Page 76 of Dirty Grovel

Stifling a laugh, I duck into the café but walk past the restrooms. I find a quiet corner to skulk in while I call Jesse.

“Yes, Mr. Oleg?” she answers almost immediately.

“Heads up, I’m coming home today with a guest. I’ll need you to get one of the suites ready for her.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence.

“Is there a problem, Jesse?” I ask impatiently.

“You’re bringing a woman here?” she asks coldly. “Does Sutton know about this?”

Great.Now, even my housekeeper is firmly set against me.And the hits just keep on coming.

“No, she doesn’t, and if she did, she’d probably try and stow herself away on one of my boats again. Oksana has that effect on most people.”

“Oksana?!” Jesse shrieks. I have to hold the phone away from my ear.

“It’s still technically her house.”

“I haven’t had time to prepare!” Jesse cries, instantly panic stricken. “Ms. Pavlova is very specific about her meals. And the gardens. I haven’t been able to prune the begonias in weeks. And her suite!”

“What about it?” I ask, regretting making this call in the first place.

“Suttonis in the Ivory Suite!”

Oh, fuck me.

“Oksana will just have to make do with the Taupe Suite then,” I grit out.

“It doesn’t face the ocean,” Jesse reminds me. “The Ivory Suite is the only one that has a view of both the ocean and the garden.”

“Tough.”

She doesn’t seem amused in the slightest. “How long until she’s here?”

“As soon as I get my coffee down. Half an hour. An hour, tops.”

I hear a weird, rasping sound—a cross between a gasp and a grunt. And then the line goes dead.

That’s another woman I’ve pissed off in under ten minutes.

Now, all I have to do is throw Sutton in front of Oksana and that’ll make a hat trick.

Guess I’m an overachiever, too.

I have to hand it to Jesse: She sure can pull out all the stops when she sets her mind to something.

The foyer, living, and dining rooms are immaculate, all decorated with fresh vases of flowers. Pink hibiscus of course, because Oksana is partial to them when she’s in Nassau.

Even the dining table is set up as though the president is coming for dinner. If Jesse can pull off a five-course menu in the time I’ve given her, the woman definitely deserves a raise.

“Something smells wonderful,” Oksana declares, turning her nose up to the ceiling.

“Jesse’s probably giving herself high blood pressure trying to put together a suitable meal for you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“High blood pressure usually is.”

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