For a split second, I wonder if Anatoly is interested in Viviana. It would explain the nickname and why he seems to know how to connect with her.
But… no, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare.
“Besides,” I continue, “Viviana and I don’t have a relationship; we have a business deal. A mutually-beneficial arrangement.”
“So does that mean you want me to—” Raoul starts, but he’s interrupted by a knock on the door.
The woman from the first floor front desk—J… Janie? Jackie?—opens the door, an extravagant bouquet of twenty-four roses in her arms.
“These arrived for you, Mr. Novikov,” she explains. “The delivery driver was tired of coming all the way up here every day, so he left them with me.”
I wave for her to place them on the table. “Thank you.”
“They’re beautiful.” She breathes them in one l
