"I see pictures on the internet! She needs Russian food. Build strength."
"We're not actually?—"
"Also, I want to talk about wedding. Real wedding. Not this video game nonsense."
My hand tightens on the phone. "We're not having another wedding."
"Of course you are! First one doesn't count. No priest. No icons. No proper vows. We do it right this time. Russian Orthodox ceremony. I invite whole neighborhood?—"
"Babushka, no."
"—and we have real reception. Not arcade games. Real music. Real dancing. Your grandfather, God rest him, he would want this for you."
The mention of my grandfather hits exactly where she intended. My throat tightens.
"Babushka—"
"Sunday, six o'clock. Be there. Both of you. And wear something nice. Not your funeral suit."
She hangs up, and I lower the phone to find Christian and Roman watching me with matching stifled grins.
Christian raises a hand. "Don't even bother. We heard the whole thing."
Roman raises his glass. "Good luck with your Russian Orthodox wedding."
I turn to the passing waiter. "Any chance you could slip some poison into this?"
My two best friends laugh even harder.
"You're deep in the shit now," Christian says, flagging down another waiter for a refill.
Roman leans back in his leather chair. "So what are you going to do?"
"About what?"
"About Sunday dinner. About your grandmother. About the wife you're currently having followed like she's a corporate spy."
"She's not a corporate spy."
"Then why the tail?"
"Because I need to know if anyone's harassing her. If photographers are camping outside her apartment. If she's doing anything that could jeopardize this arrangement." I take another drink. "It's protective surveillance."
"It's obsessive surveillance," Christian corrects. "And you still haven't answered Roman's question. What are you going to do about Sunday?"
I stare into my bourbon, watching the amber liquid catch the light.
"I don't know," I admit finally. "But I have three days to figure it out."
"You mean you have three days to convince Harper to meet your grandmother."
"That too."
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
"The same way I do everything. Direct. Professional. By reminding her what she signed up for."
Roman and Christian exchange a look.
