"Why do you sound surprised?" I raise an eyebrow at him and plant my hands on my hips.
"Not surprised, Kitty-Khav. Impressed." He smiles. "Totally over the top and incredible, as usual."
I look around, a little lost with how much is going on. I'm not as detail oriented as some and rely on Zach, my father's chief assistant, to tell me when something is off. I'm so nervous about tomorrow that I've been here no less than ten times today, walking around to see the progress.
"Is that a donkey?" Petr asks, staring at the four-legged animal being led into the children's room.
"I wanted a camel but Baba said no," I say with a sigh.
He gives me an odd look I ignore. I peek into the different rooms, satisfied with how everything has come together between my first inspection this morning and now.
"What do you think?" I ask him after we tour the club.
"I think Mikael would shit himself knowing there's a donkey in the club."
"Petr!" I slap him lightly on the back of the head.
He laughs. "I love it."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Okay, good, because you have to be here for the reception in the morning," I say, pleased.
"Seriously? I've got a bottle of hundred year old whiskey waiting for me."
"No drinking tonight!" I order him. "You can't show up drunk or hung over."
"I'll be fine."
"Wait, are you even allowed to drink?"
"Kitty-Khav!" He wraps me in a chokehold and hauls me against him. "I'll be here, and I'll be capable of shaking a few hands." He gives me a noogie. I bat his hand away. "Okay?"
It's not, but this is something else I've been working on: not being quite so overbearing. I still worry about him all the time.
"Fine," I snap. "Stop it!" I wriggle loose from him and smooth out my hair.
"Seriously. This is awesome." His smile is warm, his blue eyes on me. "You're amazing, Kitty."
"I know. About time you figured that out." I look around, nervous about everything. "Did you invite that girl you met to the party?"
"Nah."
It's not like Petr to be shy around a girl he's interested in. When he says nothing further, I glance at him.
"Because …" I prod.
He shrugs.
"You don't like her? She's another Brianna? She's mean?"
"Didn't feel right."
"What does that mean?" I study him.
He's not interested in talking about it. That much I can see from the change in his expression. It's never stopped me from dragging something out of him before, and it won't now.
"If you like her, you should at least bring her by," I urge. "I'll tell you if you can date her or not."