Pip smiled. “We said we would.”
“Yes, but plans change,” Svetlana said.
“Not ours,” I returned.
Her gaze grew cold for half a second before she smiled wider. We sat.
Juvie took a table behind us, slightly to the right. It was close enough to move fast, but far enough to give us a little privacy. He looked bored, but his eyes were never still. The two Sidorov men stopped outside, close to the entrance.
Svetlana noticed all of it, of course.
“So much protection,” she said lightly as a server approached.
I smiled, waved my hand dismissively. “My husband worries.”
“He loves you very much.”
“Very,” Pip agreed, an edge to her voice.
Something like a warning. I glared at her. Svetlana laughed, sounding almost nervous.
A server appeared and took our orders. Svetlana ordered tea. Pip ordered an iced coffee she had no intention of drinking. I ordered a latte for the performance, too. When the drinks arrived, Pip shook hers, making the ice clink against the glass. I wrapped both hands around my cup and let the heat warm my palms.
Neither of us took a sip. Svetlana noticed that, too. Her eyes moved from Pip’s drink to mine.
“You do not like the coffee?”
I shook my head. “Oh, no. I’m letting it cool.”
Pip lifted her glass. “Letting mine sit with the ice—I like it ice cold.”
Svetlana’s mouth curved a little.
“American women are very cautious.”
“Black women. We’ve had centuries to learn we can’t trust everyone,” Pip corrected sweetly.
Svetlana blinked. Pip shook her coffee again. I almost laughed. For a few minutes, we talked about nothing, justrambled about Port Isle, the shops, and Ms. Joia’s party planning. We commented on how beautiful the water looked today. Svetlana was good, I had to give her that. She asked questions without seeming nosy and complimented without overdoing it. If she hadn’t mentioned Nikolai yesterday, I might have liked her.
At some point, I checked my phone beneath the table. There was no signal, not one bar.Jammed.Fuck. I lifted my phone slightly and frowned for her benefit.
Svetlana tilted her head. “Problem?”
“No signal.”
“That is strange.”
“Mm-hmm.”
It probably explained why people had been trickling out. Pip’s hand stilled on her straw. Juvie glanced over. I set my phone on the table, face up, just as someone complained loudly about the messed-up Wi-Fi. More people left. Svetlana’s smile remained in place, but something in her eyes changed.
“You are distracted,” she observed.
I smiled. “And you are observant. It’s just… I’m a newlywed. I’m used to talking to my husband non-stop,” I said with a sad sigh.
Pip made a tiny sound between a laugh and a cough. The front door opened. A tall man with dark hair walked in with the kind of energy like he owned the place. Svetlana brightened like the sun had entered. He wore an expensive suit with no tie. He was handsome, but nothing special. And he wasnotNikolai.
My disappointment was immediate. Honestly, it felt disrespectful. All this trouble, and Nikolai couldn’t even show up himself? All this damn chaos, road attacks, threats, family drama, and Russian violence, and all I got was an assistant villain?
