your own advice, boy.”
Konstantine remained silent.
“You want Harper? Back her into a corner. Make it so her only option is you.”
“You mean the same way you did with Kimura?” he questioned, mentioning the recent deal he’d helped Ivan with while in Japan a month ago.
His father smirked. “Precisely.” Eyes twinkling the same way they always did when he was about to plan out something major, Ivan drummed the table with his fingers. “You make it so she’s fighting not to say yes, yet she knows there’s no better deal on the table than you.”
“Valentine’s Day,” Konstantine said.
“What?”
“Valentine’s Day,” he repeated. “I need to make her go out with me on Valentine’s Day. It’s a reasonable excuse to get her to see me in a different light while remaining in the same comfort zone of a friendship. I can make her believe it’s casual while really showing her no one knows her better than I do.” As he spoke, Konstantine’s mind suddenly landed on something vital. Sixteen years ago, when he’d made that bet with Harper, the biggest reward had been the kiss, but the fact she had to go out with him on Valentine’s Day had just made things so much better. He’d moved too fast the other night when they slept together, but he could fix it now; make things manageable again. His head snapped up. “Softball!”
Ivan’s brows drew down. “I don’t get it.”
“I’ll explain it on our wedding day, Pop.” Standing, Konstantine grabbed his leather bomber and threw a couple of twenties down on the table. “Do us both a favor. Stop regretting shit you can’t change and work on the things that you can.” With that said, he hauled ass out of Margo’s and went in search of a cab, his brain already formulating a plan.
***
Ivan watched his boy go, a small smile forming on his face. Konstantine hadn’t always been the easiest child to deal with. Stubborn and more than a bit opinionated, the boy—now a man—had driven him up a wall on many days, but he couldn’t be prouder if he tried.
“Do us both a favor. Stop regretting shit you can’t change and work on the things that you can.”
His son’s words rang in his head as Margo finally decided to stop ignoring his stares and looked over his way. Twenty-odd years, and so many regrets— too manyregrets. He slid out of the booth and started towars her, watching the way her eyes widened in her pixie-like face, saw the way her sienna skin reddened right around her sculpted cheekbones and knew she remembered the same thing he did—that one night they’d stopped ignoring one another, that one night he’d had her in his bed.
When he stopped before her, not paying attention to the curious glances others shot their way, Ivan heard the way she sighed, noticed how she leaned toward him. Speaking softly, he simply stated, “I need to ask you something.”
***
“You’re in my room again. Why are you in my room again?”
Konstantine looked up from the magazine he’d been so calmly glancing through while resting on Harper’s bed and answered her, “Because I’m done sitting around while you tiptoe about the house, avoiding me like I’m some lunatic waiting to get you sedated so I can take pieces of your hair and try cloning you.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Get outta my room, Koz.” Coming home had been her only option, and not seeing Konstantine’s rental car outside had given her a spark of hope that she could lock herself in her room for the rest of the night. Right now, she’d bet her last dollar the bastard had parked out back.
“No can do, Sweets,” he casually retorted. “I’ve got plans for us today.”
“I’m not gonna ask because I really don’t give a shit what you have planned. I just want—”
“Don’t care what you want,” Konstantine interrupted in that same goddamn casual tone. “You and I are going out to play softball with the neighborhood kids.”
Her head jerked up. “Koz, it’s
Konstantine remained silent.
“You want Harper? Back her into a corner. Make it so her only option is you.”
“You mean the same way you did with Kimura?” he questioned, mentioning the recent deal he’d helped Ivan with while in Japan a month ago.
His father smirked. “Precisely.” Eyes twinkling the same way they always did when he was about to plan out something major, Ivan drummed the table with his fingers. “You make it so she’s fighting not to say yes, yet she knows there’s no better deal on the table than you.”
“Valentine’s Day,” Konstantine said.
“What?”
“Valentine’s Day,” he repeated. “I need to make her go out with me on Valentine’s Day. It’s a reasonable excuse to get her to see me in a different light while remaining in the same comfort zone of a friendship. I can make her believe it’s casual while really showing her no one knows her better than I do.” As he spoke, Konstantine’s mind suddenly landed on something vital. Sixteen years ago, when he’d made that bet with Harper, the biggest reward had been the kiss, but the fact she had to go out with him on Valentine’s Day had just made things so much better. He’d moved too fast the other night when they slept together, but he could fix it now; make things manageable again. His head snapped up. “Softball!”
Ivan’s brows drew down. “I don’t get it.”
“I’ll explain it on our wedding day, Pop.” Standing, Konstantine grabbed his leather bomber and threw a couple of twenties down on the table. “Do us both a favor. Stop regretting shit you can’t change and work on the things that you can.” With that said, he hauled ass out of Margo’s and went in search of a cab, his brain already formulating a plan.
***
Ivan watched his boy go, a small smile forming on his face. Konstantine hadn’t always been the easiest child to deal with. Stubborn and more than a bit opinionated, the boy—now a man—had driven him up a wall on many days, but he couldn’t be prouder if he tried.
“Do us both a favor. Stop regretting shit you can’t change and work on the things that you can.”
His son’s words rang in his head as Margo finally decided to stop ignoring his stares and looked over his way. Twenty-odd years, and so many regrets— too manyregrets. He slid out of the booth and started towars her, watching the way her eyes widened in her pixie-like face, saw the way her sienna skin reddened right around her sculpted cheekbones and knew she remembered the same thing he did—that one night they’d stopped ignoring one another, that one night he’d had her in his bed.
When he stopped before her, not paying attention to the curious glances others shot their way, Ivan heard the way she sighed, noticed how she leaned toward him. Speaking softly, he simply stated, “I need to ask you something.”
***
“You’re in my room again. Why are you in my room again?”
Konstantine looked up from the magazine he’d been so calmly glancing through while resting on Harper’s bed and answered her, “Because I’m done sitting around while you tiptoe about the house, avoiding me like I’m some lunatic waiting to get you sedated so I can take pieces of your hair and try cloning you.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Get outta my room, Koz.” Coming home had been her only option, and not seeing Konstantine’s rental car outside had given her a spark of hope that she could lock herself in her room for the rest of the night. Right now, she’d bet her last dollar the bastard had parked out back.
“No can do, Sweets,” he casually retorted. “I’ve got plans for us today.”
“I’m not gonna ask because I really don’t give a shit what you have planned. I just want—”
“Don’t care what you want,” Konstantine interrupted in that same goddamn casual tone. “You and I are going out to play softball with the neighborhood kids.”
Her head jerked up. “Koz, it’s
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