“I agree. They didn’t know you’d be attending a public event with me.”
My throat feels tight—I half-hoped he’d think I was paranoid.
Before I can spiral, I hear the softest of yips.
“What’s that?”
He pushes a button. “The dog, Georgi.”
A bundle of fur plops through the partition and immediately bounds over to me.
“Salome!” I croon in delight, relieved when she kisses my face, totally not giving a shit that I stink, just happy that I’m here.
She’s so young that I figured she’d forget me, but she hasn’t!
“Victoria.”
“What?”
“You cannot call the creature Salome.”
“Of course, I can. Don’t be jealous, Maxim. I can appreciate other people who have a thing for decapitation, too.”
Choking out a laugh, he collects Salome and turns the wriggling bundle of fur over. “Look.”
I study the fluffy underbelly. “What? She needs a haircut, I know, but?—”
“She is a he,kotik.”
“Oh. I asked for a girl!”
“Then the person who sold you the dog is a liar.”
When he starts sounding all growly, I tsk. “I didn’t buy Salome. She was given to me.”
“He.”
“He can still be Salome.”
“No, he can’t. Charles. That would be a good name for him. A strong name.”
“Charles?! What the fuck?” I pull back to gape at him. “I’m not calling my dog, Charles! It’s not even Russian!”
“And Salome is?”
“Salome is Salome. It’s giving execution, deadly female, badass bitch, name forever immortalized. Not Charles! What did any Charles do?!”
“Rule nations? Discover evolution??”
“Bah! Salome is so much cooler. And hey, if Jamie can be a boy or a girl’s name, then why can’t Salome?”
“Why didn’t you let me pick out a dog?”
“Because I’d have ended up with a Doberman who likes to eat feet!” When his lips twitch, I grumble, “See? I wanted fluff.”
“You got fluff.”
“Charles.” I grouch. “Ha.”
