Page 190 of Sexting His Assistant

Tonight has decided to become efficient with irritations.

Kirill is dressed better than the last time I saw him, but desperation still sits under his skin. Men like him can buy a tuxedo, a watch, a smile, but they never quite buy ease. Oleg stands beside him, broad and silent, flattened nose, ex-military posture, eyes moving too much.

Kirill smiles.

“Luka,” he says. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yes.”

His gaze moves to Nina, then back to me.

“Lovely evening,” Kirill says. “The foundation always does these things well.”

“You stopped me to discuss charity?”

His smile strains a little. “No. I only wanted to say there are no hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings,” I repeat.

“About the northern route.”

Nina shifts slightly beside me.

I keep my hand at her back. “There was nothing to feel.”

Kirill laughs softly, but it is forced. “You made your position clear. Fortunately, others are more open to cooperation.”

Oleg looks past me toward the entrance, pretending not to listen.

I study Kirill for one second longer than he expects. “Others.”

“Yes.”

“Good for you.”

That irritates him. He wanted a reaction. Men who come to hint at betrayal want anger, not dismissal. Anger makes them feel important.

Kirill steps half a pace closer. “Some people understand the value of flexibility.”

“And some men mistake a leash for support.”

His face tightens.

Nina looks up at me, and I feel her catch the meaning even if she doesn’t know the full story.

Oleg speaks for the first time. “Business changes quickly.”

I look at him. “Not for everyone.”

The silence after that is brief and unpleasant.

Kirill recovers first. “We’ll see.”

“Yes,” I say. “We will.”

I move to pass them.

Kirill’s eyes go to Nina again. “Enjoy your evening, Miss…”