Most likely not a bomb.
Gingerly, I took the box. “Thank you, the pastries are inside. Just pulled them from the oven.”
“What is it? Open it! Open it,” Brady breathed, sidling up to me.
I pulled the string. The impatient young buck reached to help pull the lid back. Delicate gold tissue laid across the inside, and I had to snatch the box high or risk it being torn by too eager fingers.
“Not for you,” I chided.
Brady wasn’t dismayed. He hopped from one foot to the other, impatiently waiting as I broke the seal and carefully folded the tissue. Suddenly, the outdoors faded away. The most breathtaking dress lay nestled inside. My eyes singled in on the rich ruby silk. The bodice had old-fashioned lines, but with a more modern cut.
“Mama,” Brady protested.
“Sshhh,” I hushed.
Because something this beautiful needed to be appreciated. I adjusted my grip and trailed my fingers over the material. Gentlysetting the box on the ground, I pulled the garment free, pausing only to swat away the sticky fingers of the eager child.
“It’s gorgeous!” I might have a feral boy, but he was capable of showing appreciation for the more feminine aspects of my life.
“It is,” I agreed.
The back door banged open. “Oh, the dress. Right.” Rayko stomped down the steps on the small porch. “I’m supposed to give you this too.”
He plucked a card from his pocket and thrust it in my face.
I looped the dress over my arm, peeled open the envelope, and my eyes scanned the neat calligraphy.
Your presence is requested at dinner.
A cold knot formed in my stomach as I read the elegant script. No signature. No date. No details about where or when. Just that simple, commanding line that felt more like a summons than an invitation.
“Who’s it from?” Brady asked, still bouncing on his toes.
I turned the card over, searching for any clue about its sender, but found nothing. The paper was expensive—thick, cream-colored stock that probably cost more than a tank of gas.
“I don’t know, buddy.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
Rayko was already halfway across the yard, a banita clutched in his meaty fist. There were pastry flakes on his shirt and a smudge of sweet cheese filling on the corner of his mouth.
“Hey!” I called after him. “What’s this about?”
The henchman shot me a crabby look. “Boss said give it to you. I’m babysitting tonight. That’s as much as I know.”
“Yay!” Brady called. And then he took off sprinting for a bird on the fence top.
I stroked the long skirt, mind racing. Ivan summoned me. He selected this dress. My heart did a little flip, while the embers deeper in my core began to stir.
Oh, shit.I was in trouble.
At least this time, I would have more coverage than my first trip to Nosh. But when Ivan picked me up at eight, bringing another bouquet, he said we weren’t going to the nightclub. Left in suspense, I fidgeted with my skirt as he drove into the city.
My confusion only compounded when we stopped on a sleepy street corner. Ivan exited his sports car and came around to help me out. I kicked the voluminous skirt with my heel—because I couldn’t not wear heels in this gown. It would have drowned me.
Thankful for the balance of his arm, but keenly aware of the fresh mint scent clinging to him, I let him lead me to the seemingly closed shop.
“A bookstore?” I peered at the sign, hanging in the air just a few doors down.
“Mhmm.”
