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“Never. Now, play. I will be the judge.”
Yan clears his throat. “Lia and me against Kolya and Boris.”
“No.” Adrian objects.
“Why not?” I ask.
“It’d be boring. You and Kolya against Boris and Yan would be more entertaining.”
Or more like, he’s doing everything in his power to keep me from pairing up with Yan. But whatever, Adrian will always be Adrian.
“Hold on.” Yan stands up. “Let me get some real drinks.”
I frown, not understanding the meaning behind his words as he disappears in the direction of the kitchen. A minute later, he reappears with a bottle of vodka and glasses.
Boris and Kolya grunt in approval.Right.Of course, beer isn’t a real drink for them.
The three of them definitely fit the stereotype of how much Russians love their vodka. Adrian usually prefers cognac, but he does push the beer out of the way when vodka is in sight.
At first, I’m too much of a wimp to try straight vodka. They don’t even mix it in a cocktail or drink it diluted. However, after Boris delivers a knockout in the first round, I chug down an entire glass to cool off my wounded pride. It burns my throat and I cough a few times, hitting my chest to make it go away.
“Take it easy,” Adrian whispers in my ear, his fingers drawing circles on my shoulder.
“I’m fine.” I point at Boris. “You’re going down. You, too, Yan.”
My friend lifts his chin. “I’m sorry to say this, but you’ll be collateral damage, because Kolya’s destruction is my mission tonight.”
“It’s the other way around.” Kolya’s usual calm falters as he assembles his tiles in front of him.
Once again, Boris and Yan take the lead. I swear, Boris is like an encyclopedia that keeps coming up with the right words.
I take another sip of my vodka, mouthing at Kolya to give me a six-letter word that starts withR, but he comes up empty.
“Royal,” I exclaim.
Boris stares at me with an unusual smugness. “That’s five letters.”
“Royalty.”
“That’s seven.” Yan chugs down his drink. “Give up, already, and pass.”
I don’t have the correct letters to spell any form of royal, anyway. With my two blank tiles and a load of vowels, I’m just punching in the dark for ideas.
Adrian drapes my scarf up over my shoulders and whispers in my ear, discreetly enough that no one notices him, “Regius.”
I don’t want to cheat, I really don’t, but with my blanks, I can make it work, and the way Boris is smirking and Yan keeps taunting us is getting on my nerves. So I stoop low and align the tiles in place after theR.
“That’s cheating, Mrs. Volkov,” Boris fixes me with a stare.
“Are you accusing me of being a cheater?” There’s a slight slur at the end of my words.
“Boss told you that word.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“He didn’t,” Kolya says at the same time.
“Wait a minute!” Yan slams his glass on the table. “You’re supposed to be impartial, Boss.”
