“He asked if she was as beautiful as rumored.”
That slimy bastard. “And what did you say to him?”
“I told him he can decide for himself when he sees her.”
“Good. How is Kostya?”
“Lost some blood, but nothing serious. He’ll be up and running in a few days.”
“Keep him off for at least a week. Ivan can take over his duties till then. Make sure the doc comes to check up on him once a day until Monday.”
“Anything else?”
“No. Go home. Rest. You spent the whole night watching over Kostya. I’ll have Varya take over.”
When Maxim leaves, I call Nina. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.” She yawns.
“Get ready and meet me downstairs in an hour. We have to go shopping.”
“Oh?”
“I’m having some business partners coming over on Saturday for dinner. You need a dress.”
“I definitely don’t need another dress. I purchased enough clothes to last me two lifetimes last week. Vova barely managed to get everything into the car, and I don’t have any space left in the closet. There are at least ten dresses that I haven’t even worn.”
“You said you are an impulse buyer.”
“That doesn’t equal hoarder, Roman.”
“We’re still buying the dress.”
“You like throwing the money away? Is that some kind of compulsion? You can tell me, you know.” She giggles.
No, I don’t think I can tell her how much I enjoy buying things for her. “Don’t make me wait.”
“Hey, I need to walk Brando. He’ll pee on the floor.”
“Ask Olga to walk the beast.”
“I’ll tell Brando you complimented him.”
“You can also tell him that if I catch him chewing my laptop charger again, I’ll be making you slippers out of his hide.”
“Oh my God!” She bursts out laughing. “The big badPakhanjust made a joke. Are you feeling alright?”
I smirk. “One hour, Nina.”
After cutting the line, I immerse myself in the reports Mikhail sent, as well as the plans for the next week’s shipments. Thoughts of a certain black-haired woman prevent me from concentrating at all.
* * *
“How about this one?”
Nina exits the changing room in a little black dress. It has a high neckline with a hem that barely covers her ass. The cut is rather simple; however, the way it molds over her body and hugs her hips, emphasizing her tiny waist, is anything but. Combined with the strappy high heels and with her hair piled on top of her head, the result is devastating, and I find it hard to remove my gaze from her legs and her perky little ass. If she goes out into the street in that thing, she’ll create a traffic disruption.
“We’re buying it,” I say in a strangled voice, “but find another one for the dinner.”