Page 86 of Sweet Animosity

Millie’s brow furrowed. “That doesn’t sound like the man from yesterday, does it, Barb?”

My body stilled as a warbled pounding in my ears almost drowned out all sound. “What man from yesterday?”

Had they seen Var use my key to snoop around my apartment, like I suspected he’d done?

Barb pulled a plate of tea sandwiches out of the refrigerator and set them on the island as Millie added sugar to a pitcher of iced tea. “Cut the strawberries, will you, dear?”

Shrugging out of the matching jacket, I took the apron Millie offered and put it on. Then, holding the paring knife, I cut the tops off the strawberries as I asked them again, “What did you mean by the man from yesterday?”

Barb pulled out the utensil drawer and selected a few forks. “The Russian one. Or I guess I should say the other Russian one.” She chuckled. “Lord, sweetie, when you finally decide to get back out there, you really jump in with two feet, don’t you? I mean two Russian men vying for your?—”

I chopped the tops off the strawberries with more violence than was necessary as my panic rose. “Barb! Please…”

She waved her hand over her chest and neck. “The handsome man with the suit and all the tattoos.”

Crap.

Had the Russian recovery specialist hired by the Mona Lisa oligarch come looking for the paintings… or worse, me?

My hand paused on the cutting board. “Did he look like a Bond villain?”

Both of Millie’s eyebrows rose. “Why, yes! That’s how I would describe him, or like if Clark Gable were Russian and a kind of a dirty, sexy, bad boy.”

Barb nudged her with her elbow. “Well, Clark had quite a reputation. Those come-fuck-me eyes and those shoulders.”

“Ladies!”

Millie shrugged as she filled three glasses with ice. “What? We’re not dead.”

I leaned forward. “So did you actually speak with him or just see him in the hallway?”

“Yes, dear, we spoke. He was very charming. If a bit terrifying.”

Barb finished for her. “All those tattoos and the way he scowled when he found out you hadn’t been home. We figured he was jealous of you spending your time possibly with another man,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

Millie covered her mouth as she laughed. “So many men to keep track of. Well done, dear. Reminds me of me when I was your age.”

This was so fucking bad.

Part of me wanted to call Var and let him know, but my pride rebelled. My mother was freaking right. She’d always said one of these days I was going to cut off my nose to spite my face. Except now it would be taking a bullet to the chest, but at least she’d have the satisfaction of knowing she was right, which for my mother would be the more important thing.

And now I’d gotten my friends pulled into it.

“When was this?”

They looked at each other as Barb picked up a chicken salad tea sandwich. “The first or second time?”

The air seized in my lungs. He’d been to my home twice?

“The first time was yesterday afternoon. That’s when we caught him coming out of your apartment.”

So it had been him, not Var. Oops.

“We thought he was your new Russian man. He seemed very amused by that and asked all sorts of questions. But don’t worry, we didn’t answer any of them. We played mostly dumb.”

My eyes widened as I gripped the knife. “Oh, no. What did you tell him?”

Millie leaned over and snatched a strawberry from the cutting board. “Nothing because we didn’t know anything,” she said with an exaggerated wink. “I do hope we didn’t cause you any trouble by hinting about your first man, but dear, men do thrive on competition and a challenge. Judging by his response, it definitely piqued his curiosity.”

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