Chapter 8 8

Dana:

The next morning, I could barely open my eyes. After all the crying last night, my eyelids were swollen, and it felt as if someone had poured sand into them. Lying for another half hour in Eli's luxurious bed, I finally decided to get up and start the day.

When I reached the bathroom, I flinched at the sight of my reflection in the mirror. Honestly, though, I hadn't expected much better after all those tears. To my surprise, I didn't feel like crying anymore.

I stepped into the shower, turned on the warm water, and let it wash away the misery of the night. Somehow, as I thought everything over, my mood began to rise. Why had I cried so hard? Probably from shock, and from the sheer unexpectedness of meeting my mate. After all, I had nearly stopped believing it would ever happen.

From what I could tell, he wasn't married, and I was free as well. Maybe something could come of it. And yet, I had gone straight into hysterics. No, that wasn't the way to handle it. I needed to pull myself together. No one would want to pay attention to a puffy-eyed mess. People are right when they say morning is wiser than evening. By daylight, my thoughts felt completely different-not so dark, not so hopeless. I could already look at everything from another angle.

Feeling both outwardly and inwardly refreshed, and with my spirits much lighter, I headed off to make myself some breakfast.

And Eli's kitchen... oh, it was stunning. State-of-the-art appliances, all the latest gadgets, every detail polished to perfection-stylish and modern in every way.

Although I don't really remember my friend ever loving-or even knowing how-to cook before she got married. Once, I recall, she decided to make a cake with condensed milk. You know, the simplest one: wafer layers with boiled condensed milk. And somehow, even with that, she managed to mess everything up-when she tried to boil that condensed milk. We were watching a movie at the time, and Elly completely forgot about her sudden burst of culinary ambition. The explosion shook the entire kitchen! Luckily, she wasn't standing anywhere near it when it happened. Anyway, it took us ages to clean that kitchen afterward.

After making myself a light breakfast, I sat down to eat and looked out the window. It was early August, the weather was simply perfect. I should really get out somewhere in the city, take a walk, maybe buy a few things.

My thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

- "Hi, Dana!"

- "Hey, Arthur! To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked with a smile, chewing.

- "Well, I just found out you moved to the city. And you didn't even tell your friend..." he said in such a tone that it was easy to imagine his puppy-dog eyes and theatrically pouting lower lip.

- "Everything happened so fast. And I'm still not sure if I'll be staying here or not. Things with work are still unclear."

- "Listen, how about we meet up? I'll be in the city tomorrow on business anyway, and I'll be free in the evening. Where are you staying?"

"I'm staying at Elly's place, in her city apartment. But I'm not sure if meeting tomorrow is such a good idea. I have work the next day."

"Refusal not accepted! I'll pick you up at seven. We haven't seen each other in ages."

"Well, fine. See you tomorrow," I said, hanging up.

Maybe it was for the best. A distraction wouldn't hurt, and honestly, it had been a long time since we last met.

The next morning, I shamelessly lazed around until it was time to get ready for my meeting with Arthur. As Coco Chanel once said, 'Every woman should have a little black dress in her wardrobe.' I was no exception. The cut of the dress was simple yet elegant: a fitted top with a modest but curve-flattering neckline, cinched at the waist, and a flared skirt that fell to the knee. On my feet-heeled sandals. I partially pinned up my hair and curled the ends. Just a touch of makeup, lip gloss-and done. The look turned out very light and fresh.

Surprisingly, I was ready in record time; by half past six, I was already all dressed up. Half an hour early. Always the same-either you're too early, or you're rushing and finishing up on the go.

While waiting, I scrolled through social media. I couldn't find my possible future boss there-not that it shocked me. He didn't seem like the blogger type, and he probably didn't have time for social media anyway. But I did stumble upon some information about him online. A desirable bachelor, magazine cover features, and several photos. With women. Different women.

Something stung in my chest, sharp and unpleasant. I noticed the fine fur sprouting along my hands.

Damn.

I needed to calm down, so I put my phone aside.

At five minutes to seven, I heard the doorbell.

"Hi! You look great-are you ready?" Arthur beamed, flashing a smile that showed all thirty-two teeth. He, too, had clearly made an effort: his blond hair was neatly styled into an actual hairstyle, dark blue tailored trousers sat perfectly on his frame, and his black shirt created a striking contrast with his fair features. His light brown eyes were the kind you could drown in-but, unfortunately, not me.

He was undeniably attractive, but you can't force love. Especially when I knew my true mate was somewhere close.

We exchanged a few words on the way, and soon Arthur drove me to the restaurant. Étoile had opened only recently and already had excellent reviews, a wonderful menu-and prices to match.

As soon as we stepped inside, my jaw nearly hit the floor. The place was stunning, with interior design that looked like it came straight out of the latest magazines. And somehow, amidst all the luxury, live plants blended seamlessly, creating a unique mix of comfort and style.

A young hostess led us to our table and handed us the menus.

"How on earth did you manage to book a table here?" I couldn't help but ask. Arthur just smiled mysteriously.

"Let's just say... a good friend owed me a favor, and here we are. Order whatever you want."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you!" I teased, pretending to threaten him with a smile. Still, despite my words, I only ordered a salad and some fish. Arthur made his own choice and asked for a bottle of wine.

"So, tell me-why did you run away to the city?"

"A job opportunity came up. I couldn't pass on it. And... after my grandfather's death, I really needed a distraction."

"And? Is it working?"

"Not quite yet. I just had the interview. I still need to work two trial days, and then they'll let me know if I'm officially hired."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Assistant to the secretary at a very prestigious company."

"Ohhh, so basically a girl running errands," he teased with a smile.

"Hey!" I kicked him lightly under the table. "Don't say it like that!"

"Alright, alright, I'm joking," Arthur laughed.

"Though... you're not entirely wrong. But it doesn't bother me at all. The position is well paid, and it'll be great experience to have on my résumé," I said almost indifferently. "And what about you? How are things on your end?" I decided to shift the focus away from myself.

"I'm here on business. I need to arrange with a veterinary pharmacy about the supply of medicine for cattle."

Arthur had loved animals since childhood, so it was no surprise he had become a veterinarian-and a very successful one at that. People even brought animals from other cities to him for treatment, everything from hamsters to purebred racehorses. He was also extremely popular with ladies who owned pampered little dogs. Sometimes, I honestly suspected those dogs pretended to be "sick" just so their owners had an excuse to visit the handsome doctor.

Our conversation was easy and lighthearted, filled with laughter.

Until the doors of the restaurant opened and new guests stepped inside. The fresh air from outside carried their scent straight to me.

I felt my eyes flare, my wolf instantly on guard. My gaze locked onto the reason for my sudden turmoil.

Konstantin.

He was walking through the hall, and on his arm- a woman. Not just any woman, but one who looked like a walking advertisement for plastic surgery.

Seriously? Is that really Konstantin's taste in women?!

The long-legged "miracle" floated across the floor on towering heels, her golden dress barely managing to cover her perfectly showcased rear. Her chest was crammed into the neckline, like rising dough clinging desperately to the edges of a bowl, ready to spill out at any second.

Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down to her lower back, and those lips-good grief! Painted in bright red, swollen and pouty, as if begging for attention.

Of course, compared to that kind of beauty, I was light-years away. If that was his type of woman, then I simply didn't stand a chance. Not even the tiniest one.