Page 115 of A Shade of Myself
Raymond was on his hands and knees wiping up the spill from the bottle he’d broken, repeating names to himself.
“Got yourself a list of enemies?” I said, avoiding the puddle and glass shards.
He looked up blankly.
“You know, Game of Thrones? Arya’s names that she repeats?”
His face crumpled, like this was a test and he was failing.
“Nothing, huh?” I said. “It was kind of a massive pop culture phenomenon.”
“These names are people that I have to deliver the vodka to. I don’t like violent shows,” he said.
Sparkling conversationalist. “Right. Carry on.”
Marjorie sprinted past with a sheaf of receipts in her hand, talking to someone on Bluetooth about a painting that should have been shipped from Moscow. She was obviously the brains of the two assistants, and if Raymond was the muscle, he was lightweight class.
I strolled into the living room, my arms wide. “Welcome home. How was it?”
Tatiana reclined on her loveseat with one arm over her eyes. “Another successful venture. Plus, I got my fill of blini and caviar. That’s pancakes and fish eggs.”
“I know what caviar is. I’ve even tasted it. The proletariat is now allowed bourgeoise delights.”
“Even with your wardrobe? It’s all so inclusive these days,” she said with an exaggerated shudder.
“Yes, it was so much better during Louis XIV’s reign. Especially that end bit.”
Tatiana chuckled. “Touché.”
I inspected the small army’s worth of matryoshka, the Russian nesting dolls crowding the mantel. “Are you planning to animate these and take over the world?” I said. “Because creepy.”
She sat up and looked the dolls over. “They were given to me in thanks by our happy client. Expect to receive one for every possible holiday and your year-end bonus.”
“I’d rather get cash.”
“Too bad.” Wincing, she rubbed her hips. “Oy.”
“You all right?”
“I’ll be fine as soon as Emmett comes back. Where are you?!” she yelled.
“For the hundredth time, I’m coming!” There was the heavy thump of footsteps and the golem entered wearing purple leggings and a short blond bobbed wig. He held out a glass of water and two white pills.
“You could open a pharmacy with that medicine cabinet of yours, lady. I almost gave you a suppository instead of painkillers.”
Tatiana swallowed the pills. “They look nothing alike.”
“I didn’t say I confused them.” He gave her a tight smile.
“Leave her alone,” Laurent said, rolling in two suitcases with a carry-on bag slung over his shoulder. “Where do you want these?”
“Put them in the laundry room,” Tatiana said. “Except the shoulder bag. I’ll take that.”
After handing it over, Laurent left with the other luggage.
I sat down on the sofa, shoving Emmett over to make room. “Got a moment for an update?”
“Giselle already phoned me,” Tatiana said. “Excellent work, Miriam. You did exactly as the client asked.” She unzipped the carry-on and hauled out a huge makeup bag. Removing a tiny bottle, she spritzed it around her face.
