“Why now?”
“That’s sort of your fault. She’s here to ‘help out.’ Also, she was evicted from her nursing home.”
Overhearing, Granny corrected, “I defected from that old folks’ home, just like I defected from the USSR.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I’m going to bed,” she announced. “Good night.”
Markus watched her walk toward the bedroom and asked, “Is she helping?”
“Uh… she did pick the kids up from school, but she brought them to bingo. I mean, is that gambling?”
Markus threw back his head and laughed. “Um, I think it depends on how much money exchanges hands. And it’s racketeering if it’s run by a criminal enterprise.”
“Well, if Orlov happens to run a bingo hall, my grandma can be part of the sting operation.” Granny would love that.
“Are you sure she’s not involved already?” he commented. He took a sip of his wine. “So I was actually dropping by to go over tomorrow’s operation.”
Gabby took a deep breath. In the chaos, she had briefly forgotten about tomorrow. Maybe all she needed to successfully compartmentalize was too much to do. If your life is a three-ring circus, you can only worry about one ring at a time.
“I have a few tips.”
She plopped on one of the high stools and grabbed a slice of American cheese from the fridge. Justin would be horrified. Last time she put out American cheese, he looked at her like she was dead to him. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
Markus reached for a slice. “You have any crackers?”
“If you’re hungry, we had meat loaf for dinner.”
“Actually, I’m starving. I went straight from work to the gym. I’ve only had a protein smoothie.”
Her gaze flicked to his biceps as she plated him up a hefty slice of meat loaf.
He shut his eyes and savored. “Mmm. Gabby Greene…” She could tell when the taste, and—if she was honest with herself—the texture hit him, because he opened his eyes and struggled to swallow. “You can’t cook for shit, can you?”
She started laughing. She couldn’t.
“It was nothing but God that we recruited you. Someone had to save your family from this.”
“You are so right. I hate cooking.” She plopped a bottle of ketchup down for him. “This should help.”
He slathered the slice in ketchup. “So my advice for tomorrow…” He swallowed a gulp of wine to wash down the meat loaf. “Number one, no heels. I want you mobile. All of your clothes should be tactical, nothing that restricts your movement.”
She flashed back to falling on the donut earlier.
“Like those black pants you were wearing on Monday.” He gave a nod of approval. “Those would be perfect.”
Maybe he just thought they looked like track pants, but she blushed anyway.
“Second, you want to keep other people out of the way as much as possible. Fran is gonna be all over you, getting in the way and messing things up. Distract her.”
Good advice.
“But mostly, relax. Let your crazy grandma take care of the kids in the morning so that you aren’t too stressed when you get to the office. You’ve got this.”
“Thanks, Markus.” She didn’t know what to say to him. So many thoughts and feelings were bubbling to the surface wherehe was concerned. She didn’t know whether to trust him or if she could trust herself. Mostly she needed some sleep.
“Do you want to take some home?” She gestured to the meat loaf. “I made it for everyone to eat for dinner, but Granny fed them chicken wings at the bingo hall.”
