He called me his son.
“Hey boss,” Dima interrupts my thoughts. The pride that wells in my chest at being called Andrei Tkachenko’s son. He told me he would earn the right to be called father. It would appear I don’t have to earn the right to be called his son, and that breaks a piece of the wall I so carefully constructed when I was younger. “You might want to catch up with Kenzi. She took your Martin.”
“Point?”
“Umm…your wife is currently hauling ass after her?”
Shit.
“Tell Vas and make sure Sully shuts down the police radios. I don’t want them being followed.”
“Got it.”
Badass indeed.
fifteen
This is ridiculous.
Stupid.
Certifiable.
Groaning, I sweep my untamed curls into my signature messy bun and take a step back from the bathroom mirror. Tilting my head, I survey the outfit, wondering what is missing.
Ah.
My gun.
Using the new holster Bailey bought me, I secure my weapon at the small of my back, shifting my oversized knitted cardigan to cover it.
There. Perfection.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
Great. Just what I need. An appearance by a Tim Gunn wannabe.
“Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?” I quirk an eyebrow at him through the mirror.
“No.” Vas drags the word out, his voice pitching slightly with his lie. “Just seems a bit… casual is all.”
I turn to face him. “You said it was a date,” I point a manicured finger at him. “Is this not a date outfit?”
“It’s a business date,” is his rebuttal.
“Well, I don’t want to sit all night in business attire.”
“Your top is too low.”
Looking down, I take in the soft, silken tank top I am wearing. It is white and fringed with a lace sweetheart neckline that prevents me from showing any cleavage unless I am leaning over. I’ve tucked it into my black jeans and paired it all with black ankle booties and a red wine cardigan.
I think it looks cute.
“My top is fine, dad.” I roll my eyes. “Why are you suddenly so fussy, anyway? You’re the one who set this up.”
The corner of Vas’s lip twitches. “I’m beginning to regret that.”
“Whatever.” I dab a small amount of perfume to my neck and the inside of my wrists. “Too late to cancel now.”