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“My father is owner, and it looked like you could use favor,” she answers. We clink glasses, then she adds, “Welcome to Russia, Everleigh.”
That explains the bodyguards. Svetlana’s father must be wealthy.
We drink the shots, and the alcohol tastes like dishwashing liquid. My body shudders, and I struggle not to cough. “God,” I chuckle. “It’s bitter.”
She lets out a burst of laughter, and a moment later, her face lights up, and she waves excitedly. “My friends are here.”
I follow her line of sight and see two men and four women approaching us. Svetlana stands up and hugs each of them.
While I’m watching the group interact, I think about the random encounter with Svetlana. It’s not in my nature to talk to strangers, but she looks the same age as me, so I don’t think there’s any harm in socializing with her.
Also, the energy pulsing through the nightclub is a nice change of pace. I’m tired of watching TV in the hotel room every night.
Svetlana gestures for me to follow them as they head toward a luxurious sitting area. Picking up my backpack, I join the group, and while they’re all sitting down, Svetlana pats the seat next to her. “Come. Sit down.”
She waves a hand at me while saying something in Russian. I make out the word ‘American,’ and everyone smiles at me.
Feeling out of place, I shift on the seat, doing my best to return their smiles.
This is the most awkward and impulsive thing I’ve ever done.
One of her friends says something I don’t understand, and it has Svetlana glancing over my clothes. She replies to her friend before she gives me a wide smile. “I want to ask favor.”
My eyebrow lifts, and I feel a tinge of apprehension. “What?”
“You come to bathroom with me and exchange clothes.” She shoots a glance at her guards. “We will go to dance floor, and you pretend to be me.”
Frowning at her, the apprehensive feeling grows. “Why?”
Svetlana lets out a chuckle. “I want to escape guards for one night. Do me favor. Please.”
Yeah, I’m not so sure about this.
Svetlana has guards protecting her for a reason.
“I’ll get in trouble,” I state the obvious.
She waves a careless hand. “No. You just wear my clothes and dance. Nothing will happen. You can leave after I’m gone.” She gives me a pleading expression. “I just want one night. Please.” She takes hold of my hand. “My life is ahh… suffocating. I want normal.”
We’re just swapping clothes.
Feeling sorry for her, I give in and nod.
A bright smile spreads over her gorgeous face, and I’m yanked to my feet as she gets up. “Thank you! Let’s go.”
I quickly grab my backpack. The other girls join us and surrounded by their giggles and Russian words, I’m ushered to the restroom.
“Thank you,” Svetlana says again when she shrugs off the jacket.
We begin to exchange clothes, and while I put on her high heels, I think about the long walk back to the hotel.
Hopefully, I can get a cab.
Svetlana fluffs my hair out, her eyes perusing me. “Good. This will work.”
Honestly, her guards are stupid if they don’t notice the swap.
I’m already regretting my decision to help her. I should’ve told her no and gone back to my hotel.
