Page 6 of Triplets for the Russian Boss

“Motherfucker,” Jerry grumbles, charging up to Kostin and planting his hands on his hips. “Go to the back with that thing, or take it outside.”

“Are you the owner?” Kostin asks, swiveling in his seat and staring Jerry straight into his beady eyes.

Jerry nods like the principal of a school. “Yes, and you’re going to get your ass kicked, unless you hop up off that seat or put the damn cigar out. Who the fuck smokes cigars these days, anyway?”

I lean away from Kostin, half-expecting him to spring up and start throwing fists, but instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket again, pulling out a thick stack of blue hundred-dollar bills. “How much to smoke here?”

Jerry shakes his head. “Sorry, buddy. The cops come in here just often enough to make smoking at the bar a gamble for us.”

“Are you a gambling man?” Kostin asks, sliding a few bills out of the stack with his thumb. “Maybe you’d like to play.”

Jerry squints his eyes at Kostin. “A thousand bucks. They’ll fine us twice that, if they catch you up here with that stinking cigar.”

“Let’s say five-hundred, then, and the other five you can win if you beat me at a game of blackjack,” Kostin says, setting the room abuzz with such devious energy that I have to steady myself in my chair with both my hands. He sure knows how to light up an evening.

Jerry looks down at the money, then back up at Kostin, then finally at me. “You put him up to this, didn’t you?”

I shake my head so hard that my hair flies over my face and sticks to my red lipstick. “I’ve got nothing to do with this.”

Jerry looks back at Kostin, who is still standing in the same position with a smoking cigar in his mouth and a thick pile of cash in his hand. Jerry shifts his weight to the other foot. “Alright, but we’re playing with one of my decks. No funny business.”

“None intended. I’m just a man looking to lose a bit of money tonight, and I don’t think Bubbles here deserves all of it.”

I shudder at the mention of my fake name. At least he never learned my real one, or it would be game over for me.

“Bubbles, let’s go to the champagne room. You’re in charge of the booze, and I’m in charge of the Christmas bonuses,” Jerry says as he greedily eyes the cash.

“You want me to join you?” I ask, although it’s already clear that he does.

“You’re coming with us,” Kostin says, curling his fingers around my shoulder and giving me a light squeeze. “Try to keep your panties dry while I take this clown’s money.”

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