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Natasha had heard about the Montagues and the beautiful estate with a single heir who had been available for the taking and had arranged to bump into me at some event “by accident” and we had some more “bumping” a bit later in my apartment. Our almost-twenty-year age difference didn’t bother her much. She had a goal of getting an old and titled last name with lots of money. She had neither of those things yet, but she was incredibly determined and had kept me as one of the possible candidates to fulfill her dream. What I liked about her was that she had never lied to me about it and hadn’t minded my little adventures “on the side”.

“I’m well, Sasha,” she said. She liked to use a Russian diminutive for Alexander. She thought it sounded sophisticated when we had been out but didn’t speak one word of Russian. “So, I called Christopher to see if he was still on for tonight and found out that you aren’t going with us. I thought you’d make more time for your friends and me in your extremely busy schedule.”

I detected sarcasm in extremely busy schedule but decided to let it pass. I had not been known for being terribly over occupied. Besides, it was somewhat unusual for me not to participate in a drinking outing with my university mate Christopher Deven who apparently was on Natasha’s speed dial these days. It sort of made sense because he was also one the “aristos,” which had made him a person of interest for Natasha. As far as I knew, she hadn’t made any moves towards his estate yet. Natasha had just enjoyed being seen surrounded by people who had coats of arms over their entrances. Be that as it may, I made a mental note about Christopher being mentioned but let it pass as well. “Right, I have a business appointment,” I said, looking for my robe.

“I hope she’s worth it,” she said laughing. Natasha wasn’t a jealous type, but she liked to joke about it.

“Nothing compares to you, dear,” I tried to sing the line from a famous song.

“Sasha, you’re a terrible singer. When can I see you?”