“Is that when you started investing in real estate?” she asked.
“Yeah. I bought a small apartment building in Finland. Made enough money from that to buy another and I’ve been expanding ever since … I don’t really need to keep expanding at this point. I have enough. But I get bored and then buy another building.”
“Dare I ask how much you own?”
“I have the exact figure somewhere but it’s close to 2 billion.”
“Wow. Are you going to make any money on my apartment building?”
He chuckled. “Not likely.”
“Because you bought it and immediately began renovating it,” she reasoned.
“That is the only reason I bought it. That and so I could be your landlord.”
“Well, maybe I’ll stop paying rent,” she teased.
He grinned from ear to ear. “I’d be happy if you did.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
Viktor’s phone vibrated as the waitress brought their food. He picked it up to read a text that came in. “We’re all set to leave at 6:00,” he said as the waitress left.
“You didn’t even call anyone!” she said, surprised.
“I texted my assistant.”
“What’s her name?” Amanda asked before taking a bite of her food.
Viktor found Amanda’s attempt to be nonchalant amusing. He looked at her with a big smile. “Jealous?”
“What? You don’t want to tell me her name?” Amanda asked, feeling defensive.
Viktor revelled in the moment before finally responding, “His name is David.”
“Oh.” She looked away sheepishly.
Viktor was amused but also curious about her sudden jealousy. “I should probably tell you that my maid is female.”
“You have a maid?” she asked as though it were a sin.
“I can’t possibly keep that house clean on my own.”
She realized that made sense. “Yeah. I suppose.” She then twirled her straw in her drink while it looked like her mind was racing.
He quietly watched her, wondering if he should ask what she was thinking.
“Is she pretty?” Amanda finally asked, trying to sound upbeat and cheerful, like she was just making polite conversation.
He leaned in close to her, resting his elbows on the table. “This is about Tatiana.”
“No,” Amanda flatly denied. “I’m just curious. Nevermind.”
“She made you feel insecure about your looks,” he asserted.
Not wanting to admit it or lie, she remained silent.
“Sweetheart, what did I tell you about diamonds?” He tried to jog her memory of their previous conversation in Italy.
“I know what you said, but that was before I knew you were dating a supermodel.”
He laughed. “Tatiana is not a supermodel. And even if she was, she’s such a horrible person it makes her ugly.”
“I’ve never looked like that.”
“I don’t expect you to,” he shot back. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how important do you think your looks are to me? 1 being lowest.”
“I don’t know. 6.”
“Wow,” Viktor leaned back feeling surprised. “You think I’m that shallow?”
“Well, you asked what I thought,” she responded, feeling put on the spot.
“I would say it’s about a 2. Obviously there has to be some attraction but most of my concern would be with your overall health, not how thin or thick you were or whether you looked like you just walked out of a beauty salon. I don’t need that.”
She quietly absorbed his words, wishing that she hadn’t let Tatiana get inside her head.
“How important are my looks to you?” he then asked, feeling a little self-conscious because of how she answered.
“They’re not important,” she answered softly. “Although you’re so handsome, I don’t think it’s even possible for you to look bad.”
“Now you’re just trying to suck up,” he teased.
"You never answered me about your maid," Amanda mentioned.
"She's in her late 40's with two grown children," he answered. "You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I think her husband would have something to say about it if I made a move," he joked.
Realizing that she was being paranoid, she conceded defeat and replied, “How about I agree to put Tatiana out of my head and we carry on with our meal?"
“Agreed.”
They finished lunch and returned so Amanda could pack her things. They had dinner at his house before heading to the airport, where his jet was preparing for their flight. They arrived at a private airstrip and Viktor drove to one of the open hangers where a large jet waited outside. He parked the Porsche inside the hanger and grabbed her luggage from the back.
“This is weird,” Amanda said as they walked towards the awaiting aircraft.
Viktor just looked at her and smiled.
On one side of the jet there was a long plush white leather sofa that could pull out into a bed. On the other side were two matching recliner chairs that swiveled facing each other with room for a small table top that could be attached to the side of the plane if needed. Running along the side of the plane with the recliners and on each side of the sofa was a small ledge where you could set down drinks. Towards the back there was a small bar, cabinets and refrigerator. At the tail end was a small restroom.
“Wow,” was all Amanda could think to say.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Viktor said as he placed her luggage in a compartment under the sofa. “We take off in 10 minutes.”
“Does it matter where I sit?”
“Not once we’re in the air but for takeoff you might want to be in a chair.”
Amanda settled in one of the recliners feeling like the whole scenario was surreal. The pilot stepped from the cockpit. He was tall and slender with tan skin, dark brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a
