Page 49 of The Brat: Prequel
TWENTY-ONE
THE FUTURE MR. VASOV
Victoria: OotD
*Victoria sends picture*
*Twenty minutes later*
Victoria: So…
Victoria: When does the courting start?
TWENTY-TWO
SHE’S MINE. AT LAST.
My eyes widen at my cellphone.
Victoria: So when does the courting start?
Holy fuck.
When I buzz Misha, he mocks, “You rang?”
“Lurch, I need a picture.”
“A picture of what?”
“Me.”
He ends the call.
I stand, head over to my bathroom, and straighten my hair up. Then, returning to my office, I grab my sports coat from the back of my desk chair and drag it on.
“Why?” Misha asks as he barges in.
“Do you know how often you question me?”
“It’s why you keep me around.” He perches on the side of my desk. “Well?” He straightens when he sees me fussing with my hair. “Is this for an internet dating profile? Brat, I can get you dates! You don’t need to go on a dating app!”
“I don’t need you to get me dates. Like I’m Quasi-fucking-modo. Just take a damn picture!” I shove my phone at him. “I think my left side’s better. What do you reckon?”
He presses my cell to his chest. “Thank God you’re dating again. Honestly, I’m just glad we’re over that bullshit with that kid—” At my scowl, his shoulders sag. “This is for her, isn’t it? For fuck’s sake, Maxim! Here I was, hoping you’d finally get laid so that the Black Death would come to an end and—”
“I haven’t been that bad.”
“HA! NOT THAT BAD?!” His laughter turns hysterical. “I swear to fuck, our enemies don’t even think about entering our turf anymore. You chop first, ask questions later! You’re worse than the Butcher of Brooklyn Beach.”
I shrug. “So? Are you taking a picture or what?”
“If you’d just fuck someone, you’d cheer up!”
“You know what, Misha? I’ll rub one out later in your honor. Now, take the fucking picture!”
TWENTY-THREE
THE FUTURE MR. VASOV
