Konstantine had occupied Margo’sat least four times a week from then on. Just a little over twenty-five years later, and here they were, in the same booth they’d always sat in, eating the traditional house special burgers with chili cheese fries and fried pickles. It really didn’t get any better than the fried pickles...
“I should hire someone to shave your head,” Ivan stated.
Gasping, Konstantine jerked back, running his fingers through his hair out of instinct to protect. “How dare you threaten my precious locks just because you’re losing yours?”
His father’s signature, blank stare never changed.
Konstantine sighed. “Okay, so your hair is just as thick and lustrous as mine. I’m still insulted.”
“I’m insulted that you just used the word lustrous in a sentence, and yet I refrain from reaching across the table and smacking you for it.”
He smirked. “Because you know damn well Miss Margo would have your ass.” Margo had been the second woman to show Konstantine what it was like to have a mother. The first had been Elena Sweet. She was never one to go for Ivan’s bullying. What Konstantine couldn’t understand was what kept the two from carrying things further?
Ivan grunted from the other side of the booth and picked up his beer without a response. He found that funny. One of the most powerful men in America couldn’t work up the nerve to ask out a woman he’d been attracted to since Konstantine was still wearing pull-ups. His corporate raiding father was afraid of rejection.
Ivan had taken over Vetrov Corp. from his own father almost thirty years ago. He followed in Czar Vetrov’s footsteps and found himself vice president of his father’s corporation before he’d even hit his mid-thirties.
Soon after, he was in an arranged marriage between himself and a girl his parents thought had the proper breeding and a good familial history. Konstantine had never doubted for a moment that his father loved him, but he was well aware that if Ivan had been able to pick his own wife, his own family, he wouldn’t be edging into his sixties alone and unhappy. Anya—Konstantine’s mother—had left when Konstantine was very young.
He never stopped to think about the woman who’d abandoned him. She didn’t deserve his thoughts. She’d made her choice the day she handed over full custody of their son to her husband.
“I think Margo feels the same way about you, Pop,” Konstantine said softly, watching the small, pretty culinary genius mill about, interacting with her usual customers.
“Leave it,” Ivan replied so Konstantine did...for now. The older man looked away from Margo. “What was the sighing about?”
His lips twisted as he sat back. “I’m struggling with something.” It wasn’t a lie. Harper hadn’t answered any of his calls all day, and he knew better than to go by Sweet Treats .
“You mean your loss of dignity because you’re chasing behind Harper like a puppy?”
Konstantine tucked in his lips before nodding slowly. “I see I’m going to have to put you in a home later in life.”
Ivan snorted. “I just don’t understand why you don’t simply tell the girl you’re in love with her.”
“Oh, because you can certainly throw stones from that glass house.”
“Learn from my mistakes, Koz.” There was a quiet undertone of regret in Ivan’s voice; his eyes had strayed back to Margo.
“Her children are grown and have their own families to worry about. She buried her husband ten years ago, and from what I saw he never really appreciated her. You can sit and watch her like a sad puppy or you can be the same ruthless, no-holds-barred man I’ve seen you become in conferences and simply ask. Her. Out.”
“I told you to leave it.”
“And I’m telling you to stop being so goddamned afraid to do something that will make you happy.”
“You don’t know everything.”
“And neither do you.”
Ivan relented, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “Take
“I should hire someone to shave your head,” Ivan stated.
Gasping, Konstantine jerked back, running his fingers through his hair out of instinct to protect. “How dare you threaten my precious locks just because you’re losing yours?”
His father’s signature, blank stare never changed.
Konstantine sighed. “Okay, so your hair is just as thick and lustrous as mine. I’m still insulted.”
“I’m insulted that you just used the word lustrous in a sentence, and yet I refrain from reaching across the table and smacking you for it.”
He smirked. “Because you know damn well Miss Margo would have your ass.” Margo had been the second woman to show Konstantine what it was like to have a mother. The first had been Elena Sweet. She was never one to go for Ivan’s bullying. What Konstantine couldn’t understand was what kept the two from carrying things further?
Ivan grunted from the other side of the booth and picked up his beer without a response. He found that funny. One of the most powerful men in America couldn’t work up the nerve to ask out a woman he’d been attracted to since Konstantine was still wearing pull-ups. His corporate raiding father was afraid of rejection.
Ivan had taken over Vetrov Corp. from his own father almost thirty years ago. He followed in Czar Vetrov’s footsteps and found himself vice president of his father’s corporation before he’d even hit his mid-thirties.
Soon after, he was in an arranged marriage between himself and a girl his parents thought had the proper breeding and a good familial history. Konstantine had never doubted for a moment that his father loved him, but he was well aware that if Ivan had been able to pick his own wife, his own family, he wouldn’t be edging into his sixties alone and unhappy. Anya—Konstantine’s mother—had left when Konstantine was very young.
He never stopped to think about the woman who’d abandoned him. She didn’t deserve his thoughts. She’d made her choice the day she handed over full custody of their son to her husband.
“I think Margo feels the same way about you, Pop,” Konstantine said softly, watching the small, pretty culinary genius mill about, interacting with her usual customers.
“Leave it,” Ivan replied so Konstantine did...for now. The older man looked away from Margo. “What was the sighing about?”
His lips twisted as he sat back. “I’m struggling with something.” It wasn’t a lie. Harper hadn’t answered any of his calls all day, and he knew better than to go by Sweet Treats .
“You mean your loss of dignity because you’re chasing behind Harper like a puppy?”
Konstantine tucked in his lips before nodding slowly. “I see I’m going to have to put you in a home later in life.”
Ivan snorted. “I just don’t understand why you don’t simply tell the girl you’re in love with her.”
“Oh, because you can certainly throw stones from that glass house.”
“Learn from my mistakes, Koz.” There was a quiet undertone of regret in Ivan’s voice; his eyes had strayed back to Margo.
“Her children are grown and have their own families to worry about. She buried her husband ten years ago, and from what I saw he never really appreciated her. You can sit and watch her like a sad puppy or you can be the same ruthless, no-holds-barred man I’ve seen you become in conferences and simply ask. Her. Out.”
“I told you to leave it.”
“And I’m telling you to stop being so goddamned afraid to do something that will make you happy.”
“You don’t know everything.”
“And neither do you.”
Ivan relented, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “Take
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