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“Which is highly unexpected.” Felix nods. “Still, you shouldn’t do that again.”
“Okay.”
“One other thing. If you find him asleep, you will not, under any circumstances, approach him. You will turn around and leave the room immediately.”
What a strange request. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just do as I say.”
“All right,” I nod and heap more mashed potatoes onto my plate.
There is no way I’m buying this shit. He’s exaggerating, probably trying to scare me into spilling the beans. Yes, Sergei acted strange last night and has a reputation as a slightly unstable guy, but no one is normal in our world.
I hear the front door open and turn to see the object of my thoughts come inside, holding a helmet under his arm.
“I thought you went shopping,” Felix shouts from next to the sink. “Where are the clothes you brought?”
“Arriving by cab. I told the guy to bring the bags to the door.”
Sergei throws the helmet on the sofa, takes off his jacket, and walks into the kitchen. As he passes my chair, he reaches with his hand and lightly brushes his palm down my arm, igniting goose bumps where our skin touches. And it’s not a bad type of goose bumps.
“What’s for lunch? I’m starving.” He sits down in the chair next to mine and looks into the pot in the middle of the table. “Meatballs again? Jesus. I’m signing you up for a cooking course next week.”
“If you have complaints about my cooking, feel free to start preparing the food yourself.”
Sergei sighs, and starts piling the food onto a plate. When he’s done, he looks down at his meal, curses, and digs in. He’s obviously not pleased with what Felix prepared, but I don’t see him going into a murderous rage or whatever. As I suspected, Felix was exaggerating.
Sergei’s dog comes in from the living room, stops beside him, and starts nudging him in his ribs with its muzzle.
“Damn it, Mimi! I’m trying to eat.” He moves the dog’s head with his hand, but he does it with visible affection.
“Which breed is she?” I ask. I don’t think I have ever seen a dog that big.
“Cane corso,” he says between two bites. “I’m going to walk her after lunch. Want to come with us?”
Not a bad idea. I need to check out the area if I do manage to slip out at some point. “Sure.”
We’ve just finished with the lunch when the doorbell rings.
“It’s your stuff,” he says to me and turns to Felix. “Can you get that?”
“Nope.”
Sergei grumbles something in Russian and stands up. “Albert had a fight with his girlfriend yesterday, so he’s cranky.”
“Albert?”
“That would be me,” Felix calls over his shoulder. “Sergei’s take on a Batman joke. He thinks he’s witty.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Wasn’t that Alfred? In the movie?”
“Yes, but he says that Alfred sounds aristocratic and I’m not sophisticated enough for it. So he changed it to Albert.”
“Oh, well . . . that makes sense, I guess.” I shake my head in confusion. Those two have a really weird relationship. I turn to see Sergei taking a bunch of bags from the porch and carrying them toward the stairs. There are at least twenty of them.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Probably the stuff he bought for you. Looks like he got slightly carried away.”
