Sacha fought the burn, and zeroed in on Jonah’s anecdote about the reality star FG had used in the campaign they’d created for a rainbow condom company. “It was crude, really,” Jonah said. “But if you understood that, you weren’t the target audience.”
“You were targeting stupid people?”
“No, more those easily influenced by shiny images on social media.”
“And where did your “celebrity” fall on such things?”
Jonah laughed, soft and low. “I’m not altogether sure. He was too busy chatting up Nico.”
“Nico? The computer man with the tattoos on his neck?”
“That’s him. I think he would be a better model than anyone we’ve ever hired, but he’s too shy about stuff like that. He’d literally rather die.”
“I thought he was straight,” Sacha said absently, not bothering to deny that he’d noticed how attractive the tall computer geek was when he’d found himself hunched over his laptop that morning, hacking into FG’s secure portal.
Jonah snorted. “Yes, well. We know how that goes, don’t we? Is anyone ever anything until they meet their person?”
“You think there is a person out there for everyone?”
“Maybe. Ask me another day. All I know for certain right now is that you, today, were some kind of angel for me.”
“An angel?”
“Yes. I need to repay you. What do you want, Ivanov? What can I do for you?”
Sacha glanced at the long, elegant fingers still tracing patterns on his leg.You are already doing it, luchik.“I am hungry,” he said. “I had four slices ofkrendelthis morning, but it is not enough for what I have in mind for you later.”
Jonah smirked. “Okay, let’s unpack that. What’skrendel? Am I saying it right?”
“No. Not even close, but to answer your question, it is the fruit bread I saw you eating this morning. Is Russian Christmas food.”
“It’s divine.”
“I know. It is the only thing my mother ever cooked.”
“She’s a bad cook? I can relate to that.”
Sacha shook his head. “She was not bad, but my father’s mother was better, so she never got the chance.”
“You’re speaking in past tense. She’s dead?”
“Yes. Long time now.”
“I’m sorry. Without the rum, I might’ve phrased that better.”
“What would be the point of that?” Sacha drained his glass and set it on a nearby table. “She would still be dead.”
Jonah flinched. “Yes, but perhaps I could’ve asked more gently.”
“My point stands.”
“Only if you want it to.”
“What does that mean?”
“Whatever you want.” Jonah finished his drink too. He leaned in, but stopped a hairsbreadth away from kissing Sacha, uncertainty flickering in his warm gaze.
He wants to kiss me.