“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.
I kept it noncommittal: “I’m local. I know better than to get involved with a tourist.” This was true. No matter what they told you, they would always leave. Men and their promises.
Lucía smoothed her long, glossy hair over one shoulder. “Dmitri really likes you. A party this rowdy is a special kind of hell for him, but he’s staying because you’re having fun.”
“He doesn’t enjoy parties?”
“He’s more of a lone-wolf type. This crowd must be trying for him.” Almost to herself, she said, “I was so surprised he recommended we celebrate in Vegas.”
I sipped my drink, logging info. “I can’t believe he’s single.”
Jess snorted. “Despite my best efforts.” She poured another round of shots. “But now I can rest.”
As if he were no longer single? “It’s all very sudden.”
“You wanna know a secret?” Natalie asked with a hiccup. Only always, Dr. Nat. “That’s how the men in this family are. Aleks told me he knew I’d be his wife after one look.”
Wait, had she just said wife in a sentence even remotely associated with me?
Lucía nodded. “Máxim told me that as soon as he got close enough to see I had freckles, he knew he was ‘fucked.’ Clearly, we had some things to work out. But the point is, he knew within half an hour that I’d be his.”
Jess was even more direct. “Dmitri’s looking at you like he’s been drowning for years, and you’re a lifeline. Another Sevastyan brother gone at first sight. Dibs on wedding coordination services!” She started singing “Tale as Old as Time.”
Could a gorgeous billionaire like Dmitri truly . . . want me want me? Or, more likely, were all these rich people crazy?
Silly, Vice. Every grifter knew that when you took your eyes off the immediate prize and your hands out of play, Lady Luck would frown upon you.
The lesson?
Never reach for the stars.
CHAPTER 5
In the hallway, Pete and I argued in whispers, sounding like two hissing cats.
“Are they fucking with you?” he demanded. “Playing games or something? Rich gulls are weird.”
“Yes! They have to be.” Once Dmitri had returned from the terrace—a mere ten minutes later—he’d seemed even more determined to make me enjoy the night, plying me with drinks and fancy foods.
The servers began treating me as if I were one of the people staying in that fantastical penthouse!
“This is the Sevastyans’ idea of a joke,” I whispered/hissed. “Amusing themselves with the peasants and shit.” Rich people and con artists were like cats and dogs. No love lost between them. “I need to bail.”
“What if it’s not a joke? Do you understand what this could mean?”
I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder. “That I maybe shouldn’t have lifted Lucía’s watch.” We weren’t usually straight-up thieves, much. And I’d never stolen from someone so nice.
No sins, still in?
“Vice!”
“I want to contribute, and even at fence value, the watch is a legit two-fifty.” I’d stowed it in the false bottom of my purse. “Gotta be insured, right? They’re so hammered, she’ll think she lost it.” The beauty of Vegas. Fresh marks flooded in every day, wearing their chum-pants as they dove into the shark tank. And they always left the city, which meant we never had to.
“You’re drinking too,” Pete pointed out. “Someone might’ve seen you lift it.”
“The bodyguards don’t even look at me anymore.” And Vasili had disappeared. Good riddance. I could’ve strolled right into any of the bedrooms, and no one would’ve stopped me. “Besides, you try telling Jess you don’t want a sixth tequila shooter.”
“So now she’s Jess? And Natalie is Nat? And you’re regular old Vice, the plucky cocktail waitress with a heart of gold?” He swore under his breath. “Do I have to remind you? We’re not like them. We’re a different breed. . . .”
In a monotone, I repeated lines I’d heard all my life: “We’re the last of the long-conners, the aristocrats of grifters. Living by our wits, smiled upon by Lady Luck. The only thing we can’t cheat is fate. . . .”
“Yet you’re melding with them? We do not meld with gulls.” Feigning a look of realization, he said, “Oh wait, you already did once.”
My ex-fiancé. The one who’d betrayed me. The one who was still attempting to win me back. “Low blow, Pete.”