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“Well, you haven’t changed. Still as uptight as ever,” he says in an amused tone, while heading for the door.

“You haven’t changed. Still as obnoxious as ever,” I shoot back, mimicking his voice.

Then, I hurl my pillow at him, just like I would have done twelve years ago.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to me again!”

Do I really have a choice? Vadim has decided to rent a room for Felix in this hotel. For as long as he needs it.

The two friends’ reunion yesterday was an emotional moment. For them, at least. I stayed away, so as not to put a damper on things, even though I would obviously have preferred to end the night differently. I left them to it and went to bed.

This morning, I find them both sitting at the table, having breakfast. Vadim gets up, beaming, and kisses me on the lips.

“Sorry he woke you up like that,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ve already talked to him about it.”

“Wow, Miss Dior, you dress like a woman now? It’s almost convincing!” Felix says before biting into a croissant.

“Oh that’s cute coming from you, with your little, patchy beard and faded tattoos,” I fire back, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “It’s crazy that you still have a teenager’s sense of style, after all these years.”

“She’s got a point,” Vadim snickers.

“Ah, so she’s finally got you wrapped around her little finger? I knew it would happen eventually!”

“What brings you to Paris, Felix?” I ask, giving him my fakest smile.

“And that’s your business, because…?”

“Maybe because you suddenly showed up in your best friend’s life, and therefore in mine?”

“Well, that’s funny. I didn’t realize you and Vadim were the same person now. Interesting…”

“Fe, answer the questions instead of being a smart-ass,” Vadim snaps.

“Fine. I’m in fashion now,” he explains. “Well, I tried. I created a clothing line—urban and classy, kind of like me. That was three years ago. I really believed in it, but it went under within a few months. I ended up broke, so I had no choice but to pick up a bunch of odd jobs, nothing exciting. And then I thought of Vadim, my brother in hard times, who always told me that if I ever needed anything, I could come knocking on his door. What I didn’t know was that his door is now made of solid fucking gold!” He widens his eyes theatrically, then bursts out laughing and slaps his brother-from-another-mother on the shoulder.

I can’t help but feel suspicious.

“How did you find him?”

“Oh, your man may not have told you, but we’ve always kept in touch, one way or another,” Felix taunts me.

“Fe, stop trying to stir up shit,” Vadim tells him.

“I had his number, that’s all. I called a few weeks ago and got some guy named Max. His assistant, I think. He told me where to find Vadim. Et voilà!” he finishes in French.

Maximilian Finn, who has since turned out to be a traitor.

“Are you really done with all the shady stuff?” Vadim asks his friend out of the blue.

“Yeah, I’m done with that bullshit. For good.”

“And do you want a job?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Oh, so he’s going to be picky, too?” I mutter.

“You’re still here?”