CHAPTER 4
Julia
I can see Isaac moving my direction out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t look his way. He’s covering ground quickly and I know he’s going to be irritated again, especially since I’m sure he can tell I’m having too much fun.
All these guys are asking me questions about Isaac and how we met. I’m retelling the story of him saving me, adding more and more details and making him seem like more of a hero with each word.
“I see you met Julia,” he says as he arrives.
I blow him a kiss, and he tries to smile out of the corner of his mouth, but I can see he’s angry. He’s not hiding it well.
“How come you never introduced us to Julia? She’s so much fun.” one of the men from the station says.
“I was just waiting on the right moment,” he says between gritted teeth. “Right honey?”
“Right,” I say, sliding through the crowd to be next to him. I stop just short and place my finger on his chest, before running it down his uniform.
“Next vacation I’m taking is to Russia!” one of the men says.
“You got any sisters, Julia?” another asks.
“Unfortunately I am an only child,” I say. “And ever since this big guy rescued me I only have eyes for him.” I lean in and kiss him on the cheek.
I can tell Isaac wants to banish these guys to the frozen tundra of Siberia during the coldest days of January, but we’re a long way from there, and the more time I’m spending here at the Fireman’s Ball the more I’m feeling like maybe America could just be my home.
I remind myself that I was extremely unlucky when I first arrived. And those bad men? They were Russians, so I really haven’t met many true Americans yet.
Not until now.
And even though I’m surrounded by a bunch of guys that any girl would drool over, there’s just something special about Isaac that makes him stand out from the rest. He’s a leader. Now that the other guys know I’m here with him I see their body language change. The men who were feeling so confident with their chests puffed out like proud peacocks now have their shoulders rounded and are doing everything they can not to draw Isaac’s ire. It’s not just because he probably outranks some of them. It’s much more than that. Even when he’s perturbed, he still carries himself so confidently, and if anything the way he’s being so protective of me right now is turning me on even more. Just the way he’s claiming me here is enough to make my heart rate pick up like I am running from a bear.
But the bear is now him. The way he hunted me from across the room. The way he came at me like he was going to eat me alive. He’s a man who knows what he wants and he goes for it with everything he’s got.
And where I’m from women look for a strong man. It’s a tough life, and we need a tougher man to help us get through. And not only that, but we have to be tough ourselves. There’s something about Isaac in his uniform, and the way he’s biting his lip right now showing that he can control himself even though I know he would rather let loose some very strong words to these guys, leaving them crystal clear about the fact that I’m off limits to anyone but him. I like a man who can control his emotions…at least when it comes to a public setting that is. Behind closed doors it’s my job to make sure he can’t. To make sure that no matter how hard he tries to resist, he can’t do anything other than lose control with me. It’s one of the many jobs of a woman. We need to be a lady in the streets, and a freak in the sheets.
But unfortunately I had no chances to prove this back home. Although I had a boyfriend before, there was no man that caught my eye. And now that I’m finally here in the States I find myself in a fake marriage. How ironic is that?
But it seems Isaac is taking it a little more seriously than before. Is he worried that I’m going to say the wrong thing, or is he actually…jealous?
“Sorry, guys,” he says, as I see he’s trying to be as professional as possible. “I need to borrow her for a minute.”
I offer him my arm, which he takes and then leads us away from these men.
“What did you say to them?”
“I told them how you rescued me. The truth. That you are a hero.”
“What else?” he asks.
“That’s all.”
“How long were you over there?”
“Isaac,” I say leaning closer to his ear. “I was only over there for a few minutes. Some guys started talking to me so I told them how great of a guy you are.”
“Okay,” he says.
“You were the one who bought this dress for me. You were the one who set this whole thing up. Remember?”
“I know,” he says. “I just don’t want some guy trying to…to mess things up.”
“To mess things up?”
“Right.”
“There’s nothing to mess up, is there?”
“You know…the vote. My image.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about…honey. Those guys are going to vote for you and I’m sure your image has improved.”
“Why do you say that?”
“They said something about you being too serious. I told them it’s just that you take your job very seriously and you are the ultimate professional.”
“That’s good,” he says.
“And I told them you aren’t always so serious.”
“You what?”
“You want to change people’s perception of you, right? I’m helping.”
“Going off script is not the same as helping.”
He doesn’t even see the irony in his comments, because he can’t see that it’s clear that he’s the one going off script. This may be a fake engagement, but what isn’t fake is the way I can see how much he truly cares about me, much more than he’s letting on.
“So if I bit your ear right now…that wouldn’t be helping?”
“Definitely not,” he says, as I breathe out hard against his neck. His hair is cut close but I can still see goose bumps forming…on his head!
“Or if I ran my hand along your chest right now, like this,” I say, doing exactly that with my hand, “that it wouldn’t help.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m showing the world that you’re not as cold and calculating as everyone seems to think.”
“I don’t need your help right now,” he says.
“Isn’t it ironic that your cinema portrays Russian, and Ukrainian, women as cold and calculating, but here I am trying to show you how to live a little more spontaneously? How to enjoy life. I thought you Americans were so bubbly and full of life…at least that’s what your movies and TV shows led me to believe. So isn’t that true, or did I just manage to find someone who’s just as cold as the Eastern European winters?”
“We all express our emotions differently,” he says.
He’s right. And I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Maybe it’s the dress or maybe it’s the fact that such a big strong man seems so nervous of what I might do next. I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, and that includes the election. But I’m feeling a certain power over how much he’s worried about me. I never thought a small girl from the middle of nowhere on a globe could do such a thing to a mighty fireman. But I have no intention of making him uncomfortable. If anything he’s the one who’s making me uncomfortable.
I feel alive and a bit aggressive, which surprises me. I feel like grabbing him and showing him what passion and lust for life really looks like. I want to show him how to be spontaneous. The only thing that’s stopping me is our agreement. At least that’s what I tell myself.
But I know the truth. If I start, I’m not so sure I could stop.