I didn’t know if this was good thinking or not.
Though, Dimitri dipped his chin to Tex in a mob boss gesture of gratitude and respect, and I knew that was good.
I also knew that Knox couldn’t drive, so Brady had to drive him, and I was hoping a silver lining would come from this mess with it giving them more time to work their shit out.
Dimitri had our champagne (and the vodka, I went for vodka) brought to his den and we sipped while we waited for Knox and Brady to arrive. And when Dimitri was told they were there, we each got a bag emblazoned on the outside with a red foil bear, and inside was our boxed beef stroganoff and ptichye moloko.
I dumped my also ruined clutch in mine.
Mercifully, Dimitri let us walk out the back door.
Alas, Knox and Brady were waiting outside that door.
Knox was on me in a flash.
“Baby. Jesus,” he whispered, his hands moving all over me.
“It’s borscht,” I said.
He took his hands away and stared at them, palms up.
“She threw soup at me,” I said.
He looked at me.
“A lot of it,” I continued.
That was the first lip twitch I got from him.
“Do not,” I warned.
He pulled it together and said, “Let’s get you home.”
Good idea.
And I was ready. I brought a tablecloth with me.
I refused to look at either of them the whole trip back, and I knew they were reading my mood because neither spoke.
This brought me to now.
I’d finished my shower. Lotioned my body, serumed and moisturized my face, gunked the product in my hair that helped define my curls, donned panties and tee and wandered out.
Knox was lounging in front of another game.
“I put your dress in a plastic bag. I’ll drop it by a dry cleaner when I can drive again,” he shared.
I stood there and said nothing.
“I got the shoe from Jacques. Sorry, baby, I put both right in the trash. Don’t think they’re saveable.”
“Where’s my stroganoff?” I asked.
He unfolded from the couch. “Sit. I’ll get it.”
Jacques snuffled my ankle, then sat on his ass and looked up at me, disappointed that I no longer smelled of food, or was covered in it.
I moved to an armchair, not the couch, and sank in it.
