Page 15 of Her Sweet Surrender
After drying his hands, he walked to her and took one of the silver packets out of the box, stating solemnly, “You get the honor of placing the first one, young Brie.”
“Thank you, Master Anderson.”
“You’ll need to place it where it will get enough pressure to break the tab or it won’t work.”
“Understood.”
Brie took the packet from him and looked around the room. Walking to the couch, she slipped it under the cushion, strategically placing it on the frame of the furniture so it would receive enough pressure when someone sat down. She then carefully repositioned the seat cushion and smiled at him.
Master Anderson nodded his approval. “Well done.”
“What else do you have in that big box you brought?” she asked, looking over at it.
“I’ve created little booby traps, so to speak,” he stated with pride. “While you place these in unusual places around the house, I will be setting them up in more obvious places. The only catch is he won’t be able to prevent the bomb from exploding once he triggers it. Would you like to see what I mean?”
“Please!”
Master Anderson took a small contraption out of the box and walked to the kitchen cupboards. He searched through them until he found the jars of pickles. “Since we know Durov loves these with his vodka, it seems only appropriate to christen them with this gift.” He placed the contraption inside the cupboard next to the jars of pickles.
“Toss me one of those babies.”
Brie fished out a foil packet but didn’t trust herself to throw it to him without mishap, so she walked it over to him instead.
Master Anderson placed the packet into his contraption and carefully set it before closing the cabinet door. He grinned at Brie. “I suspect Durov will have activated a couple by the time he goes for the pickles. When he opens the cabinet door, the bomb will be activated, and he’ll know it’s about to blow—that’s when the fun begins!”
Brie could just imagine Rytsar sprinting to the door with the bomb in his hand, hoping to make it outside in time.
“You really are an evil genius.”
Master Anderson tipped an imaginary hat at her. “I wear the name proudly.”
Brie looked down at all of the smiling packets and shook her head. “You do realize you’re going to have an irate Russian on your hands.”
He smirked, shrugging. “I’m not worried. When he threw down the gauntlet, he knew there would be consequences.”
Because Master Anderson had never reacted to the whoopee cushion prank Rytsar had pulled on him with Brie’s help, Rytsar wouldn’t see this coming. Although there was a chance he might never forgive her, Brie was enjoying this practical joke a little too much.
“I’ll start placing my contraptions while you figure out where you are hiding yours.” Master Anderson grabbed a large handful of the foil packets and tossed them in his box.
Feeling inspired, she walked to the barstools lining the kitchen counter and lifted the front leg of one, slipping the foil pouch underneath it and gently setting it down.
“Nice,” he praised her while booby-trapping the trash can.
“Poor Rytsar,” she giggled.
“Think of every fart bomb as an expression of our admiration.”
Brie laughed as she headed to Rytsar’s bedroom. She walked into his closet and looked at his row of shoes. Placing them in the toe of the shoe would hide it but it wouldn’t provide the pressure necessary, so she chose his leather boots in the back. Brie slipped it inside the heel of his boot and carefully set it back in place. With luck, months from now, Rytsar would slip it on without thinking and the pressure of his heel would end up breaking the tab before he could prevent it.
Satisfied, Brie wandered into his bathroom. Spying the toilet, she burst into giggles. Although it was obvious and had no chance of tricking him, Brie lifted the lid and placed a silver packet smiley side up on the lip of the bowl where the bumper from the toilet seat would make contact. She gingerly put the seat down and stepped away.
The fact that it was a fart bomb made this placement the funniest yet. Brie figured Rytsar would see the humor in it when he lifted the lid to pee.
Moving out of his room, Brie headed down the hallway and caught Master Anderson staring at the bedroom Rytsar had designed for Hope. Turning to her, he said, “As tempting as it is, there are some lines that must not be crossed.” Then he grinned, “However, he will go crazy assuming that I’ve crossed them.”
Master Anderson chuckled as he moved on to the laundry room instead.
As much as he hated babies himself, Brie appreciated that he respected Rytsar’s love for Hope.
