Chapter 8

“Call me traditional,” Daniel said, “but I think I’ll avoid the hair pomade, and stick with wining and dining you instead. Maybe some flowers if I’m feeling confident.”

“Sounds nice,” Sasha said, flashing him a smile.

Daniel smiled back, then looked down at his coffee. “I’m sorry though. I hope you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Sasha shrugged. “I thought I’d feel sad about it, but maybe I was so eager to be here in New York, I just made myself like him more? I don’t know.” He huffed a wry laugh. “When I am back in Moscow, I’ll feel sad then.”

Daniel looked up at him. “He’s American?”

“Yes.” Sasha nodded. “We met online. Laugh if you want.”

Daniel smiled, but he didn’t laugh. “As long as he was nice, it doesn’t matter how you met.”