She removed the top bun and took a closer look at what was inside. The cow from which the burger had been derived had been well fed, which was reflected in the quality of the meat, but she could tell the animal hadn’t been cared for. It had simply been treated as a commodity.
Laramie finished her meal and pushed her empty plate away from her. She tried not to get too emotionally attached to the cattle in her herds because of the nature of the business she was in, but she made sure each of her charges knew they were valued for more than their market price. She needed to instill that philosophy in the men she had been hired to train so the people of Moscow could discover how a real burger was supposed to taste.
“This job is going to be even harder than I thought,” she said to herself as she sipped her beer. “Hopefully, the experience will be worth it.”
Now that her hunger pangs had been sated, she leaned back in her seat and indulged herself in a little people watching. Though the locale was different, the dynamic was the same. The tables were filled with friends enjoying each other’s company and couples trying to decide if tonight’s date would be their first or their last.
Laramie hadn’t been gone long and she already missed the give-and-take of going out with someone. Talking to her. Getting to know her. Trying to determine if the attraction she felt was purely physical or could develop into something more.
She stared at a woman seated alone at a table meant for two. Unlike her, the woman seemed to be waiting for someone, if her frequent glances at her watch were any indication. Her dark brown hair was worn up and away from her face. Her makeup was perfect, highlighting rather than obscuring her features. Her dark blue dress was low-cut and clung to her curves. Whoever had stood her up was an idiot who obviously didn’t know what he—or she—was missing.
“Careful,” Natalia said when she came to clear the table. “Bad things can happen to you if you were to get caught staring at another woman like that in public.”
Laramie dutifully dragged her eyes away from the gorgeous brunette across the room.
“That’s the second time I’ve been caught staring today,” she said under her breath. “I must be losing my touch.”
Natalia indicated Laramie’s glass. “Would you like another beer?”
“I’d love one, but you’d better bring me the bill instead. I have an early day tomorrow.”
Her flight to Bryansk was supposed to depart at seven, which meant she needed to be at the airport no later than five. She had asked the concierge to give her a wake-up call at three thirty in case the batteries in her travel alarm clock decided to give up the ghost overnight. If she wanted to get more than a few hours’ sleep, she needed to head back to her hotel sooner rather than later.
“Is too bad,” Natalia said. “My ex is having a party tonight. I planned on going after my shift, but I would rather not go alone. Would you like to come?”
Laramie hesitated. She wasn’t in the habit of following strange women home—or accompanying them to parties thrown by their ex-girlfriends. But everything else was different here. Why shouldn’t the sentiment apply to her, too?
“When does your shift end?”
“In thirty minutes.”
Laramie leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “In that case, you’d better bring me another beer to tide me over while I wait.”
Chapter Four
Anastasia wasn’t surprised to see Natalia Pavlyuchenkova walk into her apartment. After the party began in earnest, Mischa had warned her that he had invited Natalia so she wouldn’t be blindsided if Natalia actually decided to attend. Anastasia was prepared for the shock of seeing her ex again just a few short weeks after their breakup. What she wasn’t prepared for was the sight of the woman at Natalia’s side.
Laramie was dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing that afternoon, but she looked different somehow. More confident. More relaxed. Damn if both didn’t look good on her. The hat must have been responsible for the change in her demeanor. She was wearing a battered gray Stetson pulled low over her eyes. She looked like a gunslinger checking out the competition as she slowly surveyed the crowded room.
“Who’s that with Natalia?” Mischa asked.
Anastasia took a beat and tried to regain her bearings. Even though she hadn’t left home yet, she already felt like she was in a different world.
“One of the Americans I’m supposed to provide translation services for.”
“That’s Laramie? What is she doing here?” Mischa’s mascaraed eyes narrowed. “Do you think she’ll tell my uncle about us?”
Laramie struck Anastasia as the kind of person who could be counted on to keep a secret rather than spilling it, but leave it to Mischa to automatically assume the worst.
“She can’t tell him about us without revealing the truth about herself, too. No matter how good a trainer she is, the law is the law, and Sergei would be forced to abide by it. I doubt Laramie flew three thousand miles just to get fired on her first day.”
“She isn’t a citizen. Technically, Uncle Sergei wouldn’t have to turn her in.”
“When money is involved, technicalities don’t matter.”
Mischa sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“Aren’t I always?”
Mischa rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me started.”
Anastasia’s breath caught when Laramie’s roving gaze settled on her face. She stood frozen, uncertain whether she should acknowledge Laramie’s presence or ignore it.
“Let’s go say hello,” Mischa said after Laramie raised a hand in greeting.
“Okay.”
Anastasia fought down a pang of jealousy as Natalia wrapped her arm around Laramie’s. She couldn’t tell if she was upset because she was seeing Natalia with someone else or because that someone else was Laramie. Surely, it had to be the former because the latter could prove to be her undoing.
“Natalia, I’m glad you could make it.” Mischa kissed her on both cheeks, then took a step back. “Who’s your friend?”
Laramie extended her hand. “I’m Laramie Bowman. You must be Mischa. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Mischa glanced at Anastasia before he shook Laramie’s hand. “Such as?”
“All good things, I assure you. Your uncle sings your praises.”
Mischa’s cheeks colored under his foundation. “My uncle has tendency to exaggerate.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Laramie shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The pose caused the opening in the front of her denim shirt to widen. Not far enough to give Anastasia a peek at her cleavage, but enough to offer her a good look at the smooth skin of her chest. Anastasia’s mouth watered at the sight.
“It’s good to see you again, Anastasia,” Laramie said. “You look nice tonight.”
Anastasia hadn’t put much thought into her outfit—a purple button-down shirt and a pair of white jeans—but it gave her a thrill to know the ensemble had earned Laramie’s seal of approval.
“Spasibo.”
“You’re welcome. I think that’s what I’m supposed to say. Spasibo does mean ‘thank you,’ doesn’t it?”
Anastasia was impressed that Laramie had already managed to pick up a few phrases—even if her Western accent gave the words a twang Anastasia had never heard before.
“You learn fast.”
“I have a good teacher.”
Laramie’s broad smile made Anastasia wish she could see it more often.
Natalia looked back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”
“Yes,” Anastasia said. “Laramie and I both work for Mischa’s uncle Sergei.”
Natalia snorted a laugh. “That should be interesting.” She tightened her grip on Laramie’s arm. “Did Ana tell you she is the ex I mentioned to you earlier, or did she try to convince you that Mischa is her boyfriend? He’s not, you know. He’s simply her roommate.”
“Actually, she didn’t say anything. Duke di
d all the talking.”
Natalia laughed with even less mirth than before. “He usually does. He is the kind of person who likes hearing the sound of his own voice.”
“Something the two of you have in common,” Anastasia said in Russian.
Natalia stared at her silently for a moment, then took a deep breath and said, “I came here tonight to wish you well, have a few drinks, and share some laughs for old times’ sake. I didn’t come to trade insults with you, Ana. We’ve already wasted more than enough time doing that, don’t you think?”
Anastasia couldn’t help but agree with her. She didn’t know if their relationship had failed because they were too different or too similar. Either way, there was no denying what they had was over.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, switching back to English so Laramie wouldn’t feel too out of place. “Both of you.”
“Have a good time in Godoroye,” Natalia said as she pulled Anastasia into a brief but warm embrace.
Anastasia breathed in her scent. The perfume she favored mixed with the lingering aroma of the food she had served tonight. Anastasia missed the feel of her body. The tenderness of her touch. Being in Natalia’s arms again reminded her how good they had made each other feel in bed. And how miserable they had been out of it.
By most accounts, the end had almost been a blessing in disguise, though Anastasia wasn’t quite ready to see it that way. At times, their relationship felt like a mistake. One she never should have made and had no intention of making again. She was done with trying to find love. After all, what had it ever brought her but heartache?
Natalia pulled away.
“Don’t do anyone I wouldn’t do.” This time, her laugh finally had a hint of humor in it. She tugged on Laramie’s arm. “Let’s see if I can find some more beers you might like. I did good job last time, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” Laramie said, “you did just fine.” She tipped her hat to Mischa. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” Mischa said.
He and Anastasia watched Natalia sift through the dwindling collection of drinks. Their search must not have proved to be fruitful because Natalia quickly gave up on the beers and led Laramie to the liquor stash instead.
“Do you think they’ve slept together?”
Anastasia pursed her lips at the absurdity of the idea. “Laramie’s flight landed only a few hours ago. Not even Natalia works that fast.”
Mischa arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
Across the room, Natalia giggled flirtatiously while she poured two liberal shots of Stoli. Laramie seemed taken aback by the potency of the vodka after she downed the shot, but she was obviously basking in Natalia’s attention. The kind of attention Anastasia couldn’t give her.
Anastasia drained the rest of her beer. “At least someone’s getting laid tonight.”
Mischa gave her a consoling pat on the back. “Too bad it isn’t you.”
* * *
Laramie’s mind was reeling. The three vodka shots she and Natalia had downed in quick succession had a great deal to do with it, but her main problem was the vast amount of new information her pickled brain was being asked to process.
Anastasia was Natalia’s ex. Mischa wasn’t Anastasia’s boyfriend but her BFF. According to Natalia, Mischa hadn’t asked Anastasia to become his beard. She had willingly assumed the role. They were out to their friends, but his family didn’t know he was gay so they had spent the last five years pretending to be an item. Quite well, apparently, since Duke obviously had no clue about the true nature of their relationship.
What would he do if he did? Disown Mischa? Fire Anastasia? If society was as conservative here as everyone claimed, both options were possible.
Laramie was left wondering what it all meant. She took another shot of vodka as she desperately tried to connect all the dots. The picture that ended up taking shape in her mind was clear but complex.
Technically, Anastasia was single and free to pursue a relationship with the woman of her dreams. In actuality, though, she was caught in a trap of her own making because she couldn’t allow herself to find happiness without costing Mischa some of his. Though they weren’t romantically involved, their fates were hopelessly intertwined.
Natalia, thankfully, was far less complicated. She was attractive, fun, and easy to be with. Exactly what Laramie was in the mood for. Natalia was sending plenty of signals that she would be amenable to bailing on the party in favor of a more private celebration. Though the idea had considerable appeal, Laramie preferred to remain where they were rather than follow Natalia to her apartment or invite her back to her hotel.
She had never been averse to one-night stands before. Why was she balking now? Three reasons came immediately to mind: the past, the present, and the future.
Anastasia and Natalia had a history that didn’t seem to be completely resolved. Fate, in the form of Sergei Ivanov, had brought Laramie and Anastasia together for the moment, but they weren’t guaranteed to remain part of each other’s lives once their respective contracts expired.
Laramie had way too much going on in her professional life. If she intended to keep her sanity, she needed her personal life to remain as uneventful as possible. She didn’t do drama, and this situation was growing messier by the minute.
“Thanks for inviting me, but I think I’d better be going.”
Natalia moved closer until their bodies were touching up and down. A song Laramie had never heard before, something slow and sensual, was playing in the background.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Natalia asked, grinding her hips to the music. “You haven’t danced with me yet.”
Laramie felt like she was getting a lap dance standing up, though it wasn’t nearly as sexy as she would have expected it to be. She placed her hands on Natalia’s waist to still the movement of her hips. Natalia’s gyrations weren’t having the desired effect. They were making her nauseous rather than turning her on. Or perhaps the vodka was to blame. She gently pushed Natalia away and pressed both hands against her churning stomach.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Natalia recoiled in horror as Laramie broke into a sweat and puffed out her cheeks. She pointed frantically behind her. “Bathroom is over there.”
Laramie made a mad dash for the door Natalia had indicated. She barely made it into the bathroom before the contents of her stomach came spilling out. The vodka came first, followed by the cheeseburger, fries, and beers she’d had at Beef. All had tasted better the first time around.
After her stomach muscles finally stopped heaving, she flushed the toilet, turned on the faucet, and gathered water in her cupped hands. She rinsed out her mouth, then splashed water on her face. Her arms shook as she leaned against the sink. Anastasia’s face swam into view while she regarded her reflection in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” Anastasia asked.
“Yes, I feel much—”
Another wave of nausea hit her before she could finish her sentence. She dropped to her knees in front of the commode as she puked again.
Anastasia came inside and closed the door behind her. “This is my fault.”
Laramie flushed the toilet again, then sat with her back against the wall. The cold tile felt good pressing against her overheated skin.
“How is this your fault?”
“I should have warned you Natalia has hollow leg. No one can outdrink her. Not even Sergei.”
Laramie smiled despite her embarrassment. “Now you tell me.”
“Would you like me to take you back to hotel? I can stay with you tonight and make sure you do not miss your flight tomorrow. I will not need to share bed. I can sleep in chair.”
Laramie was touched by the offer, though part of her wondered if Anastasia was looking out for her interests or Duke’s.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ve set my alarm clock and I have a wake-up call scheduled with the front desk in case something goes wrong. I’ll be fine on
my own. Besides, I wouldn’t want to drag you away from your party.”
Anastasia shook her head. “Party is not for me. Is for everyone else. You need me more than they do.” She picked up Laramie’s hat from where it had fallen and held out her hand. “Come. We go.”
Laramie was a proud woman, but she wasn’t too proud to accept help when she knew she needed it. She gripped Anastasia’s hand and allowed her to pull her to her feet. She swayed a little before she steadied herself. She hadn’t been this drunk since she had attended a kegger in college. She had tossed her cookies that night, too, though she had managed to avoid doing it in front of someone on which she hoped to make a favorable impression.
“I’m sorry you had to see me this way.”
Anastasia wrapped an arm around her waist to provide support as she led her out of the bathroom. Mischa took a step toward them, but Anastasia waved him away.
“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”
Laramie could tell by the look in Anastasia’s expressive eyes that her statement was more than a figure of speech.
“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” she said as Anastasia led her to her bedroom.
“I don’t want to bore you.”
“I doubt anything about you could ever be considered boring.”
Laramie held Anastasia’s gaze so Anastasia wouldn’t doubt her sincerity. Anastasia was the first to look away.
“You are entitled to your opinion,” she said with a shrug.
Anastasia stuffed a change of clothes into a carry-on bag and slung the bag over her shoulder. Then she retrieved the large suitcase standing sentry in the open—and empty—closet. The walls were bare. If not for the rumpled sheets on the bed, the room would have appeared unoccupied.
“We go now,” Anastasia said briskly as she charged toward the door.
Laramie had no choice but to follow. As Anastasia and Mischa said their good-byes, she took one last look at the Spartan room. Anastasia seemed to live life without leaving much of a trail behind, but she was certainly starting to make a mark on her.
Comrade Cowgirl Page 6
