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Without turning around, Max barked, “Don’t even think about it, Em.”
“Boy, I’m not taking any lemons.”
Not yet.
I checked over my shoulder.
Far behind us, Kaz whispered Russian to Emilio, and Tisha’s huge hand protectively held Paolo’s small one as they all journeyed forward.
Meanwhile, Baba lagged behind them with a worried expression.
I placed my view back to the front.
All our men had left the plane, except for Lemon. She remained positioned by the exit with her guns holstered.
My heart ached for Blue. It would be so weird not having her around.
Everything will be fine. Lemon will be just as good.
Walking in that direction, I checked Lemon out.
This will be fun.
Surely, Lemon would stand out in any crowd she found herself in, not only due to her impressive height, but also her striking presence. She easily cleared six feet yet, moved with an edgy grace. Today, her hair was a bold shade of bright blonde, cropped short in a pixie cut that highlighted her striking features.
I got to her. “Nice to see you with us in New Orleans, Lemon.”
She hit me with a smile. “Always a pleasure, Emily.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Max strolled by us and left the plane. “Let’s get to the scary lady before I decide to run and hide.”
“Would you chill out? I’m already nervous.” I followed him and stepped out of the plane and into the hot and humid air of Louisiana.
Jesus.
Within seconds, sweat beaded on my forehead.
I grabbed the railing, walked down the stairs, and nervously scanned the area. “Where’s Boris?”
“He’s on night duty, so I sent him to the hotel with Harlem, Valentina, and the rest to get some sleep.”
“Cool.”
Hurrying down, Max snorted. “Punk ass.”
“What?”
He hit the bottom of the stairs. “You’re scared to talk to Boris? Aren’t you?”
I dabbed at the sweat on my forehead. “I’m not fucking excited about it.”
“Just talk to him, Em. Dude worships you. Boris may have fucked up bad, but he repented with me for sure in Africa. Now he needs some reassurance that you and he are good.”
“I’ll do my best.” I got to the bottom of the stairs and waited for Kaz to leave the plane and catch up with us.
Lemon positioned herself a few feet in front of us and had her guns out, telling me she would not be playing at all with her new position.
Kaz is right. I did need a new number two. Already Lemon is better than Giorgio. If he had been here, he would have been solely gazing at Blue.
