Page 16 of Doctored Vows

Since I exited Maksim’s chauffeur-driven car at the Pobeda gates, I had to hustle through several other airlines’ drop-off points before arriving at Aeroflot’s terminal.

“I am so sorry I’m late. I?—”

Zoya shushes me like she also loathes apologies. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” She steals the last of the air in my lungs with a big hug before inching back and twisting us to face the airline worker at the boarding station. “This is who we were waiting for.”

“Wonderful.” I wonder just how late I am when the air hostess gestures for us to walk down the gangway a second after scanning the paper boarding passes Zoya hands her.

“She didn’t weigh my carry-on,” I whisper to Zoya as we walk side by side.

Since we redeemed credit card points for our flight, we’re not entitled to baggage—not even a carry-on. The rule is one personal item per passenger, such as a purse or a handbag. My carry-on is bigger than a gym bag and weighs over the two-pound limit stipulated on my ticket.

“I wasn’t charged for a checked-in bag either.” Zoya swivels around and walks backward before waggling her brows. “I thought it was because the baggage clerk was a breasts man.”

I laugh when she wiggles her rack from side to side. Her DDs are natural and rarely saw us purchasing our own drinks throughout college.

“If only your tatas could pay off student loans.”

She stops shaking her boobs before raking her teeth over her bottom lip.

“Z…” For one letter it drags out of my mouth for an extremely long time. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she denies with a shrug.

I don’t believe a word she speaks. Guilt crosses her features, as apparent as the deceitful flare darting through her impressive eyes.

She huffs at the mothering cock of my brow before announcing, “I got a new job.”

I wait, confident that isn’t the cause of the unease in her tone.

I’m right.

“It is at Le Rouge.”

My eyes bulge as words crack out of my mouth like a whip. “The strip club?”

She shushes me with more than a wave of her hand this time. She clamps it over my mouth.

“Could you say it any louder? The losers in economy missed what you said.”

I can’t answer her since she has my mouth fastened, but the worry blistering through me must speak on my behalf.

“I’ve looked everywhere. No one is hiring.”

When she removes her hand from my mouth with a heavy sigh, I say, “I could ask?—”

“No, Nikita. You can’t keep bailing me out.”

“You seem to forget how often you do that for me.”

She loops her arm around my elbow before continuing down the gangway. “I show up and sit with your grandma and grampies for a couple of hours. It’s nothing.”

“Seven hours isn’t a couple.” I air quote my last two words.

She brushes off my comment as if it is nothing. I learn why when she murmurs, “It’s good for my soul. They ground me.”

“Gigi will ground you for life if she finds out you’re working at Le Rouge.”

She tugs on her nonexistent collar before jumping a few steps ahead to hand the air hostess our boarding passes. She isn’t panicked about my threat because she knows as well as I do that I won’t expose her secret to anyone—not even my beloved grandparents.

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