Chasing Ivan Read Online Free PDF Page A

because we didn’t want to risk ruining the virtual relationship. So we picked this date a month ago to take the pressure off, agreeing to meet if things were still going well. We didn’t even set the details, just the time and place: my flat at 6:00 tonight.”
    “Not a restaurant?”
    Emily tried replicating Alexandra’s perky head shake. “We’d both been in situations where a date didn’t show at a restaurant. So we agreed to meet out front of my building instead. If he didn’t show, or I didn’t come downstairs, then at least the other’s embarrassment wouldn’t be public.”
    “But still, giving out your address. Wasn’t that risky?”
    Emily thought about her secret. Was there any reason to keep it, given what she’d learned today? Quite the opposite, it seemed.  
    Sensing her hesitation, Alexandra kept talking. “I’m going to fix your hair up, if that’s all right. Andreas mentioned that he loved the lines of your neck.”
    “I’m in your hands. To answer your question, I wanted Andreas to have my address. I wanted him to know that I live modestly.”
    Alexandra cocked her head. “I don’t follow, but maybe that’s because I spend my days helping the wealthy to look positively rich.”
    “My father is an influential public figure, a Member of Parliament. We don’t communicate — we haven’t since my mother died — but our estrangement is kept quiet for political reasons. His position is not a big deal, other than when it comes to my love life. For years now, most of the men I’ve dated have turned out to be more interested in my father than in me. That got a lot worse a year ago when he declared his candidacy in the London mayoral race.”
    Alexandra raised her eyebrows, and then began a delicate nod. “So you began hiding your true identity, and removed any connection to status from your profile. And your modest flat does nothing to break the illusion. I guess I can see the logic in that. If you don’t mind my asking, what is your family name?”
    “Aspinwall. I’m Emily Aspinwall.”
    Alexandra’s pupil’s flared. “I don’t follow politics, but that’s still a name I recognize. Your father’s leading in the polls.”
    Emily nodded.
    “That must be exciting. Does the Mayor of London get a jet?”
    “I have no idea. If he does, I’ll never see it. But in any case I’m sure that if you’re the Mayor of London, there are plenty of people willing to lend you theirs.”
    “No doubt about that. Eighty percent of the miles on this plane are logged for favors. Gives my boss a hefty sack of IOU’s.”
    And now one of them has Andreas’s name on it , Emily thought. “You’re not looking to change employers, are you? Looks to me like you’ve got it pretty good.”
    “I do. But I think I’d rather have a British boss.”
    “Who’s your boss now?”
    “Like me, he’s Russian.”
    “Really? You don’t have an accent.”
    A mischievous look crossed Alexandra’s face and she said, “I’ve worked hard.”
    “We’re not headed for Moscow, are we?”
    “Michael didn’t tell you where we’re going?”
    “He seems to have a predilection for the mysterious.”
    Alexandra seemed to have a penchant for suspense herself. “Stand up and look at yourself in the mirror,” she said.
    They walked back to the bathroom where Emily admired the total transformation that Alexandra had wrought. She’d never looked better. Perfect hair, a fashionable dress, a flawless mani-pedi, and an exquisite gold necklace. If only she’d met Alexandra the day of her ten-year high school reunion. “You’re a miracle worker.”
    “You made it easy. You’ve got great bone structure. But I must say, I’m pleased with the result. Which is a good thing, because it would be a shame to have you looking anything but your very best … at the Monaco Yacht Show.”

Chapter 8

    I WAS ABOUT to get Oscar back on the line when a crotch-rocket roared in and screeched to a halt. It was a beautiful machine,