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“We’re going to need it.” Yuri returns with his coat and I straighten his tie. “Have a good day, handsome.”
“Fedor is downstairs and Yevgeny will be here by noon.”
He takes my face in his hands, looks deeply into my eyes, then kisses me. It’s both passionate and tender. Something that I’ve come to expect from this mobster of mine. “I love you, husband.”
“I love you, wife.”
Vlad clears his throat and I let Yuri go. “Go forth and be terrifying.”
“We plan on it. Good luck on the treasure hunt,” Vlad calls out as he heads for the door.
“I’m going to need it.” As soon as they walk out, Stasia strolls in. “Perfect timing.”
“Hello, bestie.” She hugs me and then sets her purse on the island. “How goes it?
“Fine.”
“I would expect a better adjective from a woman about to be rolling in dough.”
“I’ve been too busy feeling overwhelming guilt and annoying my husband with my constant need for reassurance to think about the money.”
“He’s been in plenty of blazing gunfights, so I doubt he blames you for the most recent one.” She sits on a stool. “He’s a mobster, not a dentist, and probably thinks of it as just another day at the office.”
“So you’re going with the logical approach, not the emotional one.”
“I thought I would change things up and try something new.”
I pour two cups of coffee and hand her one. “Speaking of new, have you thought about where you’d like your bakery to be?”
“Big investor talk for a woman who has yet to see a penny from the alleged fortune.”
“I was rolling in dough a minute ago. How did I get dumped in the pauper basket so quickly?”
“I’m uncomfortable.”
“Why? We’ve always shared everything.”
“Clothes, snacks, and drinks. Not large sums of money.”
“Think about it.”
“Is that your way of saying that you’ll back off?”
“No,” I smirk. “I’m just giving you a break until I bring it up again.”
“Like the car thing with Yuri.”
“Kind of.” I twist my hair into a knot. “Not that I would trust myself to drive his prized possession. I’m a horrible driver and would probably scratch it before leaving the parking garage.”
“Then why do you torture him a dozen times a day and beg him to let you take it for a spin?”
“I just want him to give me the keys.” I stare out the large windows.
“Because if he does, it means he really and truly loves you?”
“Kind of.” I look up. “Sounds silly when you say it aloud.”
“As so many things do.”
