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Jazzy grimaced. “He saved me from a kidnapper.”
My eyes widened. Just as I was about to ask for more details, a familiar face popped up beside me. It was literally the last person on earth I’d wanted to see tonight. Svetlana.
Her white catsuit looked like it had been painted onto her body. She would make top models pull out their hair with jealousy.
“Katya,” she said, as she pushed a lock of platinum blonde hair behind her ear.
“Svetlana,” I semi-greeted her back.
Everyone at the table looked at us, probably wondering why I didn’t introduce them. I probably should have, but I didn’t want her to ruin my night. I had the feeling she didn’t accidentally stop by to just say hi.
She eyed me from head to toe. A sneer formed on her pouty lips.
I braced myself, but still wasn’t ready for Svetlana’s cutting remark.
“It’s so good to finally see you in something other than rags.” Her thick accent sounded both seductive and utterly feminine. “And it’s good that you are out of that house and with friends. You’ll need them since you’ll be moving out soon.”
I felt sucker punched. The threat of her kicking me out of my home, which had been hanging over my head since the last time I’d seen her, intensified tenfold.
I tried to shake it off. “I didn’t realize I was going anywhere.”
Her blood-red lips curled into a smile. “Kristoff will marry me. I will then live in his house. And you will leave, because you have pride, no? Or else…”
Clearly, the gloves were off. It took all I had not to wipe that smirk off her face. The bitch was connected. I wondered if two women from different Bratvas going fist-to-fist would be a reason for an all-out war? It would almost be worth it.
“Or else what?” I couldn’t help myself. I had to know.
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Or else I will remove you.”
Tommie snorted so hard that some of his drink came out of his nose. “You silly, plastic matryoshka doll, do you even hear yourself? You sound like a Russian cartoon character. It’s sooo not sexy. ‘Orrr elsse I riiimoovee you.’”
Jazzy glared at Svetlana. “I don’t think you realize in whose backyard you’re pissing here. Let me make it clear, you silicone-to-the-bone cold-war trash, if anyone’s going to remove anyone here, it’s us who will be removing you.”
Mary waved at someone. “More specifically, someone from my husband’s security firm.”
When the girls—and guy, as he liked to remind us—closed ranks around me, my eyes misted.
Svetlana’s eyes flared with anger. Then, like the snake in a garden, she slithered away and disappeared into the crowd.
“Who in the freezing hell was that?” Jazzy asked, looking miffed.
I downed the rest of my drink. “That was Svetlana. Kristoff’s ex.” An ex who wanted to be his future. My stomach churned.
Jazzy frowned. “We’re going to need more drinks.”
“That dolled-up Tweety Bird will kick you out of the nest first chance she gets,” Tommie predicted. “A few more drinks won’t cut it. Ask for a bottle.”
A bottle we had. Then another one, and after the first three I lost count and I told them about my crush on Kristoff.
“I love him, faults and all,” I admitted. “And he has many.”
“All men do,” Jazzy added.
I brought my glass to my lips, only to find it empty. Again. “He just doesn’t want me.” Did I sound too complainy? Was complainy even a word?
Tommie sighed. “Unattainable men. Don’t we all have that one who got away?” Then he eyed me, looking more serious. “You’re hot as sin and sweet as cherry pie. Any man would be lucky to have you. Perhaps you should stop pining for a guy who’s unavailable and get yourself out there. You only have this one life, you know.”
A waiter came by with a round of drinks. I immediately snatched a pink one.
