Near the bar, Pete texted the family faster than I'd ever seen him type.
Maybe I wasn't jinxed! Hell, if Nigel hadn't bailed, I wouldn't have been at this party.
A man like Dmitri Sevastyan wouldn't be signaling a server for another glass of champagne for me.
I hated to drink on a con, but for fuck's sake . . . I traded out my empty flute. "Thank you."
Dmitri took one himself. We met gazes. His spellbinding eyes seemed to hold a thousand secrets.
And could I be a bigger idiot? I knew better than to moon over a mark. I knew all the lines--
"I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself," he told me.
Huh. A line I'd never heard.
He adjusted me closer to his chest until I could feel the steady drum of his heart. He inhaled the scent of my hair, and his heartbeat sped up.
At my ear, he murmured, "Our first kiss made me burn. I'm eager for our second."
I melted from his voice, as if the sound had been hot-wired to my pussy.
"You should not make me wait too much longer, moy angel."
Did that mean my angel? When I shivered, his cock stirred beneath my ass, but he controlled himself.
I whispered, "You assume you get a second?"
"If I have to move heaven and earth . . ."
Guh. Heart thud. My con had a glaring weakness; how the hell could anyone deny him?
With an enviable social ease, Maksim began a speech about accomplishments and marriage, happiness and love. He'd entranced everyone else--were Lucia's eyes glinting?--but Dmitri overloaded my senses until I hardly registered a word.
Get cold, Vice. Work. The. Con.
After a couple of toasts, Maksim raised his glass to Dmitri and to . . . me. "A toast to new friends. May they always feel our family's welcome."
I raised my glass and drank, nearly coughing when I spied the bald Vasili in the background. He crossed his beefy arms, his gaze locked on me.
It's his job to be an asshole, I assured myself. Nature of the beast.
Everyone clapped for the charismatic Maksim, and the music resumed. Servers made their way through the crowd with platters and more drinks. One delivered a tequila bottle service with shot glasses and accompaniments, setting it on the coffee table.
Jessica slid off the couch, kneeling on the fluffy rug to begin pouring. "Let's get this party rolling!" Lucia and Natalie dropped down beside her. "Come sit with us, Blondie."
And so it begins.
Dmitri said, "You can remain here."
If he wanted something, then my job was to not quite give it to him. "I'll just be a minute." I wriggled out of his grasp to join the girls.
Micro scowl.
Jessica asked, "What do people call you? Vicky or Tori? I think we should go with Tori--"
"Vice," I rushed to say. Only my ex had ever called me Tori. Besides, Pete had already spilled my nickname. "My friends call me Vice."
"I want to know why." Dmitri leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "The word is slang for police." He sounded as if he'd given this matter a lot of thought and was frustrated to have no answer.
Again, I wouldn't give him what he wanted. "Hmmm. Maybe I'll tell you later."
Full on scowl.
Lucia said, "Will Peter come sit and drink with us?"
My cousin milled around on the periphery, ever ready to make an assist. "I think he's still working for a bit longer."
Natalie asked me, "So what do you do?"
"I used to help out with my parents' financial planning business until about three months ago. But it's a tough"--lethal--"market."
"Your investment background interests me," Dmitri said. "Perhaps you can help me make a determination about a few prospects."
Doubtful. My skill set involved selling dummy stocks like they were snake oil--not evaluating them. "Those days are over for me, I'm afraid. Now I'm a cocktail waitress here at the casino."
"How are you liking the service industry?" Lucia asked.
In Vegas? Why, I just love when customers drunkenly grope me. And married men do it best!
As I tried to formulate an answer, Natalie groaned. "My server gigs sucked. Note to self: If a restaurant supplies sporks, tips there will be nil."
She'd had server jobs? According to Pete's intel, she'd grown up on a huge farm in Nebraska and had inherited a fortune five years ago.
Lucia said, "I enjoyed cleaning houses better than I did slinging wings at a Hooters-type establishment. Scrubbing toilets was . . . purer."
Even as I laughed, I wondered why she had done either. Her mega-rich family had controlled one of the largest coastline tracts in Florida for generations.
Maybe their parents had made them work minimum-wage jobs to try to keep them grounded. Or perhaps the Sevastyans controlled their public information, putting their best face forward. I glanced at Dmitri, finding his gaze on me.
A tech genius with unlimited resources could hide a lot of dirt. Hmm . . .
"Customers can be so bizarre," Natalie said, drawing my attention. "Have you ever had a guy ask for a cosmopolitan, but he wanted it in a 'manly glass'?"
"Yes! Then there's always the guy who says, 'No, you're cut off!'"
Natalie laughed. "I've had dudes say that to me too!"
Dmitri wasn't laughing, but one corner of his lips curled, the barest hint of a coming smile. His amused expression? It looked so . . . out of practice.
Jessica handed out shots, only to the girls. Once we'd geared up with salt and lemon, she said, "Okay, ladies, start your livers. Now it's our turn to make roast toasts."
Come again?
Natalie raised her glass and winked at Lucia. "To the three types of orgasms. To the holy kind: 'Oh God, oh God, oh God.' To the affirmative kind: 'Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.' And to the fake kind: 'Oh Maks, oh Maks, oh Maks.'"
Lucia and Maksim laughed with such ease I figured their sex life must be stratospheric. With a sly grin, Lucia said, "To Natalie. She doesn't have a cherry, but that's no sin, since she's still got the box that the cherry came in."
I chuckled until I realized they might expect me to come up with one. In past toasts, I'd paid tribute to Lady Luck, but if these people expected a roast toast . . . I loved limericks, had even won a contest once, so I cobbled one together.
"Here's to my Vice-Vice Baby"--Jessica gazed meaningfully at me--"for being single, seeing double, sleeping triple . . . and having multiple."
I was still laughing when, sure enough, everyone turned to me. I raised my glass to Jessica. Feigning an Irish burr, I said, "There once was a looker named Jess, who always knew just how to dress. At a party like this, she'd land more than one kiss; who she'd fuck was anyone's guess. Slainte!"
Jessica guffawed. Natalie and Lucia howled. Aleks and Maksim cracked up.
Dmitri hadn't laughed, bu
t his lips curled again, and his eyes were lively, crinkling a touch at the sides.
Everyone seemed delighted--and surprised--by even that mere response.
Jessica commanded, "Lick, shoot, suck, my bitches!"
After that shot, the night sped by too fast. Despite an occasional glare from Vasili, I ended up having a great time. I'd had to remind myself I was working, a career first.
Dmitri was unfailingly attentive, asking if I was comfortable or if I needed anything. Once he found out my favorite cocktail, a fresh rum and Coke was always in front of me.
Jess was one of a kind, and Lucia and Nat were seriously cool. I admired how tight those two had their husbands locked up. Devoted didn't really cover it.
Whenever Nat left Aleks' side, his gaze would clock her, as if he counted the seconds until she returned to him. Maksim couldn't seem to touch Lucia enough, and he often whispered things to her that made her eyes shimmer.
My sister and I had a theory that three percent of the masculine population was good. How else could we reconcile all the scrotes we met in our business with the great guys in our family and among our KAs?
Were the Sevastyan brothers in that tiny percentage?
Maksim was the most charming of the three, confident and friendly. Aleks seemed more introspective and intense. He laughed with the group, but he didn't talk much.
Dmitri was quiet too, seeming to catalog like a computer any information I divulged. . . .
The Caly's midnight light show had just concluded when Maksim pressed a kiss to Lucia's head and rose. "I think it's time for a cigar with my brothers." Aleks stood, but Dmitri didn't.
"Come, Dima, let them do another round without us," Maksim said, then added something in Russian.
Seeming resigned, Dmitri rose. But he told the girls, "Do not scare her away."
Though they laughed, I didn't think his tone was playful. I thought his tone said, Do not motherfucking scare her away.
As soon as the brothers had stepped outside, questions from the girls came rapid-fire. "What do you think so far? Will you go on another date with him? What are your intentions and can we do a threesome?" That one came from Jess.
I answered, "I think he seems . . . nice. He hasn't asked, but I'd probably go out with him again. I'm not into threesomes, and I have no intentions."
Natalie frowned. "But you like him, right?"
I get high on his scent. His body makes mine feverish. I could suck on his tongue for hours.