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“Don’t call me that.”
She reaches over and squeezes my cheek. “Come on, Pied Piper. Cheer up. All is well.”
“No, it damn well isn’t!” Sergey’s voice shatters the relative calm. I was so relieved to see Timofey and Ashley that I almost forgot about him.
Timofey walks straight up to him with his shoulders pinned back. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I—This is my fucking house!” he splutters in outraged disbelief. “If I want to be here, I don't need to sign the guest book."
“Itwasyour house,” Timofey corrects. It’s not cruel, but it is drawing a clear and obvious line in the sand.
Sergey’s face purples with rage. “I’m here to talk about—”
“In my office.” Timofey cuts off his father and waves him down the hallway. “We’ll talk there.”
The old man is practically vibrating, but he storms down the hallway. With one last blank look over his shoulder, Timofey follows.
48
PIPER
“Draaama,” Ashley whispers a bit too loudly as soon as the men are out of sight. “What did I interrupt?”
Everything.Ashley inconvenienced everyone here—Timofey most of all—and I’d bet everything I own that she never even thanked him.
Instead of saying that, I shrug. “I don’t know. Sergey showed up pissed. He didn't fill me in on the details."
“Who is he to you?”
“Sergey?” I ask. “He’s nothing to me. He’s just Timofey’s dad."
Ashley lowers her chin, wagging her brows suggestively at me. “What about Timofey? Who isheto you?”
No one.
My boss.
The man who makes my insides flutter and burn with anger at the very same time.
I shake my head. “I’d rather talk about why you have blood on your shirt.”
Ashley gasps and pinches her shirt, pulling it away from herself so she can see. “I do? Where is—shit! I liked this shirt.”
It’s a threadbare shirt with a graphic of some rock band I know Ashley doesn’t listen to. The way the collar hangs off her shoulder and the sleeves drape down to her elbows, I’d guess it belongs to Jason. I hope it does. The asshole deserves blood on all his favorite shirts.
“Actually, the blood is kind of a look.” Ashley tips her head from side to side, studying it. “If nothing else, it’s a good story.”
“A story I’d love to hear,” I say impatiently.
She drops her shirt and nods. “Right. Sorry. Tonight has been… wild. Unexpected. I mean, have you seen Timofey fight? If he is someone special to you, tell me now because I’m about to wax poetic about how sexy he looked clearing that room out.”
My heart leaps into my throat, making it hard to breathe. “A room? He fought anentire room? How many people?”
“Ten? Twelve?” Ashley guesses. “I don’t know. Maybe it was more than that. He could have taken on a hundred, though. The guy was unstoppable.”
I wish Timofey was here so I could give him another look over.
No. He can take care of himself. You don’t need to worry about him.
