I wonder how Ace will react to Mackenzie. She’s the complete opposite of me and Vani. I’m short and dark, where she’s tall and blonde. She has a kind of regal air about her which earned her the nickname of Duchess when she first started at Verona Falls. I guess some people thought she was a bit stuck up, which wasn’t true at all. She was just dealing with a whole heap of shit no one knew about.
Will he stare at her because of her beauty? They’ve met before, I think, at a party, but they didn’t spend any time together. Same with Ace and Kirill. I hope they get along, but putting two alpha males in close confines isn’t always guaranteed to turn out well.
I take in the sight of the tall blond standing at Mackenzie’s side, carrying her Louis Vuitton bag on his shoulder, and a small, zipped-up, travel style bag in one hand, and her Stanley cup in his other. Kirill is Russian mafia, or at least his family is. His father was even more fucked up than mine, and Mack has given me some idea of what he went through as a child. I have to admit, once she’d told me, I found myself softening toward him a little. Plus, the guy can really dance. If he ever gets on thedance floor, all eyes are on him. He has something almost magical about his hips.
He jerks his chin at me. “Hey, Camile.”
“Hi. Thanks for your text.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Dah.”
I step back, allowing them in. “Welcome to my new, albeit temporary, home.”
Mackenzie hugs me again. “I’ve been so worried about you. How are you holding up?”
Ace emerges from the living room and stands in the doorway, his arm propped against the frame. I sense him and Kirill sizing each other up.
“Kirill,” I introduce, “this is Ace. The two of you are going to be friends.”
They both shoot me a look that says, ‘We’ll see about that.’
Mack takes the bag Kirill had been holding. “I brought supplies.” She holds up the bag. “Face masks, chocolate, mani-pedi kits, vodka.”
“Now you’re talking.”
“Wanna beer, man?” Ace asks Kirill.
Kirill shrugs. “Sure, whatever.”
The pair of them nonchalantly head into the kitchen.
I grab Mackenzie’s hand and tug her into the living room to sit next to me on the couch. She places the bag she brought with her on the coffee table next to it.
Should I start by apologizing for putting her in between me and Vani?
“I know you don’t want me talking about the shit going on between me and Vani, but I have to ask. Is Vani okay? You know I’d never mean to hurt her.”
“Yeah, she is, but honestly, I don’t want to talk about that, babe. If you accidentally let something slip that I’drather not know, it’ll put me in a seriously awkward position. Anyway, I assume that hottie who’s just taken Kirill into the kitchen is one of the guys you’re hooking up with.”
I press a smile between my lips, my cheeks warming. “One of them, yes.”
“Well, if the others are as gorgeous as he is, you’re winning at life.”
I don’t feel like I’m winning at anything, but I don’t tell her that.
She reaches over and unzips the bag, pulling out the vodka and a couple of plastic shot glasses. “Drinks! Come on, I don’t get many evenings away from the family. I plan on making the most of it.”
She pours us a couple of shots, and we down them. The alcohol burns a fiery path down to my stomach, relaxing the knot in my belly and turning my limbs loose.
“It’s good stuff,” she says. “Kirill won’t let me buy bad vodka. He says it’s an insult to his country.”
I giggle. “Fair enough.”
I hope the alcohol doesn’t loosen my tongue too much.
A raucous male laugh comes from the kitchen. “A raccoon?” Kirill’s Russian accent rings out. “No way!”
I glance over at Mack, and we both chuckle.
