“He’s bribing them from the other side.” I pulled out my phone and dialed Dietrich. He’d barely gotten the hello out before I barreled over him. “Grig is counter offering.”
“What? Doxx, what the hell?”
“Grig is holding up the visas. He’s offering counter bribes. You have to go to the Russian consulate and shame them into this.”
I could hear things jingling and rustling in the background. “I’m on the way right now. I’m not even going to bother with trying to call. I’m knocking on that fucking Russky door.”
“Good, you owe Essie a Louis.”
“I’ll make it a Bottega.”
Essie squealed.
“You told her she’s not coming?”
“I did,” I answered and looked up at her. Rolling her eyes, she nodded. She was not an idiot, really. “She gets it.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you when I get out. How’s the drummer situation?”
“…Still in progress.”
“Two weeks, my dude. Two weeks.”
With a sigh of acknowledgement, I ended the call. Essie waited on the edge of the couch and stared at me. She’d figured it out, and I was man enough to admit that.
“Come on. We’ll go to Bergdorf. I’ll buy you some shoes.”
She squealed again, and hopped up, dropping a quick sweet kiss on my lips. “Thank you, baby.”
“Hey, I know when to say thank you.”
She grinned back at me from the door. “And how to say it.”
Aaron
To:Doxxsings321
From:DrumReaction
How’s Monday night? I have my last exam at five and I’ll be done with college for at least a year. Say, eight? Your location.
Rock on,
Aaron Donner
To:DrumReaction
From:Doxxsings321
Monday night. The doorman will let you up at the address below. Congrats on finishing your degrees in murderonomy and murderology.
Rock on,
Doxx
The fucking Dakota.
I was standing in the doorway of the goddamned fucking Dakota, asking to be let up to an apartment that was owned by…who?
