Almost Too Far (Almost Bad Boys #3) (12 page)

“I have a special talent.”

Ali’s cell phone plays Macklemore’s
Can’t Hold Us
. I grin at her.
 

She shrugs. “He’s originally from Seattle. I support local artists.” She looks at the screen. “It’s Jena. The Turban and the cop passed them twice. The second time The Turban was eyeing them suspiciously, but Melba did something… hold on, Jena’s typing more.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, just call her.”

“Look.”
 

I read Jena’s new text message from over Ali’s shoulder: “They stopped way too close to us. Melba grabbed her walker and pushed it straight at them, diverting the cop’s attention.”

“Melba’s good at it,” I comment. “Let’s take a peek.”
 

I rush to the bathroom door, open it a little, and we both stick our heads out. We can see the poker table where our friends are sitting. Melba’s walker is parked right by her chair.
 

“Oh, crap. Someone’s coming.” I push Ali away from the door when I see a tall, slim brunette walking in the direction of the restroom.
 

We pretend to apply make up in front of the mirror when the door opens and the girl walks in. “You’re so predictable,” she says in a strong Russian accent.
 

FIFTEEN

 
“I have a simple philosophy: Fill what’s empty. Empty what’s full. Scratch where it itches.”
 

Alice Roosevelt Longworth

 
“Svetlana?” Ali and I exclaim.
 

“No way! What did you do to your hair?” Ali laughs.
 

“Oh, I have some fun stuff in Oleg’s trunk.” She beams at us. “Clothes, shoes, a hat, several wigs. This one is my favorite.” She turns her head from side to side to see better in the mirror.
 

Svetlana’s a light-blonde, but now her hair is much longer, curly, and dark. Her makeup is different, too—much stronger, with her eyebrows accentuated, which makes her look like someone else.
 

“Nice.” I nod in approval, inspecting her new guise. “Hey, you’re not carrying the gun, are you?” I remember, and my smile disappears.

“Of course not. Oleg hid it in his car.” She puts her large designer purse on the bathroom counter and starts pulling out a few things. There are two wigs: one a classic redhead bob, and the other—a shiny black with blue streaks pixie-cut. “I brought you some stuff.”

“Holy crap!” I shout. “Are you for real? This is hilarious. I want the pixie one.”
 

Ali’s already trying on the red bob. “I’ve never had red hair. Kinda fun.” She looks good in red hair with her dark-brown eyes and black eyebrows. The red lipstick she usually wears goes perfectly with the new hair.
 

I’m having a hard time stuffing my long hair into the wig. Svetlana produces some bobby pins and elastic. “I’ll braid it for you,” she offers and sets on arranging my hair into a tight crown right over my temples.
 

A few bobby pins later, my hair is neatly tucked into the wig. I stare at myself in the mirror and can’t believe the change. It’s a bit freaky, but I like it.
 

“You need some blue eye shadow.” Ali produces a small cosmetic case from her purse and hands me a small set of eye shadows with an applicator.”
 

I apply it thickly and then add more mascara. The effect is great. I start liking it more and more. “I want to see Colin’s expression when he sees this.”

“It’s gonna be priceless.” Ali brushes some honey-colored blush on my cheeks, and then on her own. “He may not recognize you. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if he started hitting on you without realizing it’s actually you?”

“No, it actually wouldn’t, you dummy.” I snort. “Think about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That would make me mad.”

“Okay, time to change clothes,” Svetlana announces.
 

“What?” I gape at her.

She takes a shiny silver top from her purse and a pair of large earrings shaped like elongated feathers. There is a black, round bead dangling from each of them. “This is for you, Natalie. Ali, I didn’t have anything in your size, but I brought you this.” Svetlana loosely wraps a long, hot-pink scarf around Ali’s neck. It glistens with hundreds of sequins and golden beads. It is a gorgeous thing, and it goes beautifully with Ali’s red wig.
 

“Wow, where did you get this. I love it!” Ali exclaims.
 

“In Russia. You can have it.” Svetlana smiles.
 

“Are you serious? Thank you.” Ali’s eyes open wide.
 

“Of course. It’s yours. Natalie, change your top.” Svetlana motions to me.
 

Carefully, not to disturb my pixie wig, I pull my black-and-white t-shirt off and replace it with the shimmery silver top from Svetlana. I add the earrings and inspect my new look in the mirror. “Cool. You know how to party, girlfriend.” I raise my eyebrows at Svetlana, and she grins back. “Ali, you look fanfuckingtastic!”
 

“So are you, Davenport.” Ali carefully runs her fingers through her wig and adjusts her new scarf.
 

“Okay, ladies. Let’s go have some fun.” Svetlana stuffs everything back in her purse and motions for us to follow her to the door.
 

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Ali.

“Fuck, no.” She shoots me a glance full of mischief.
 

SIXTEEN

 
“Anyone who says he can see through women he misses a lot.”
 

Groucho Marx

The three of us manage to casually walk past the poker tables. I wink at Jena. Her jaw unhinges, and she stares at us like an idiot. She elbows Caroline on her left and Helga on her right, causing both of them to yelp in pain. I see her whispering to them. A slow, “no way in hell” smile spreads on Helga’s face. She pulls Stella close to her and says something in her ear. Both Stella and Caroline gape at us, and I look back, grinning at them.
 

Ali purses her lips and looks at them from half-closed lids. It’s so hysterical that I need to pinch myself to keep straight face. Svetlana pretends not to know anyone around and just strolls straight toward the bar, chin held high.
 

I grab her arm. “The Turban Man is standing two o’clock to your right.”

She stops and very slowly turns her head, as if indifferently scanning the room for something interesting to watch. “I see him,” she confirms quietly.
 

Ali catches on and spots the persona non grata in the crowd. “The cop’s there, too, you see?”

“I’m feeling like a freakin’ fugitive.” I snort. “Why the hell won’t they just leave? His van is parked up front with the money and a note inside.”

“And the keys,” Ali whispers. “I don’t get people. Svetlana saved his ass. Those two punks would have beat him to a pulp—maybe even sent him to the heaven’s gate—and now he’s chasing us, crying on a cop’s shoulder? Fucking hypocrite.”

“I know, right?” I agree.
 

“The best thing would be to just call another taxi and leave,” Svetlana adds.

“I know, but I owe this to Helga. I really want her to have fun tonight. I feel like shit for dragging you guys here to get her. I thought about this and realized that she deserves to have a say in how she wants to spend her own birthday. Who knows how many she might have left. So, yeah, that’s the whole point of this masquerade.”
 

“No worries. We’ve got this. You were worried about her and Colin. So stop beating yourself on… with… uhm… you know what I mean. Damn English.” Svetlana takes my arm and steers me toward the bar. “The Turban Man won’t recognize us now, and they’ll leave sooner or later.”

“I hope they will.” I sigh. “Oh, crap!” I see Colin and Libby sitting at the bar, deep in conversation.
 

A light bulb pops on, and I put my finger across my lips, indicating Colin to my girlfriends. Ali and Svetlana chortle. This is going to be hilarious. It’s time to lighten up the atmosphere.

We sit next to Colin, but he pays us no attention. Libby seems not to even see us at all. I turn my back to them. Ali and Svetlana try to remain unremarkable, but looking like they do now, they attract the whole casino’s attention.
 

“Can I have a Long Island Tea, please?” I ask the bartender in the best imitation of a nasally southern drawl I can master.
 

Nothing. Colin doesn’t even budge. The bartender smiles, eyeing Ali, Svetlana, and me by turns.
 

I tap Colin on the back. “Excuse me,” I drawl. “What time is it?”

He doesn’t even glance at me when he says, “Ten forty-five.” He returns to his quiet discussion with Libby.
 

I shrug, looking at my girlfriends. They raise their eyebrows in a silent question:
“Nothing? Not even a spark?”
 

I take my cell phone out and text him: “Where r u?”

Colin texts me right back, “At the bar with Libby. Where r u?”

Me: “I see u. Who’s the hottie next to u?”

Colin: “Some annoying southern belle.”

I smile and let Svetlana and Ali read it. They high-five me, grinning. Libby slides down from her barstool and leaves; probably to check on Helga.
 

Svetlana elbows me in the ribs, “Ask him if he’s looking for a date,” she whispers severely in my ear.
 

I nod, biting my lip. Colin’s preoccupied with his phone. I move a bit closer to him and drawl in a nasal voice, “You’re cute. Do you wanna go up to my room with me?”

He rolls his eyes and mutters, “No, thank you.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” I continue. Ali and Svetlana are cracking up. Colin’s completely oblivious to what’s going on. I can’t believe he doesn’t recognize me.
 

He’s still ignoring me, typing on his phone. A text message comes from him: “So where r u?”

Me: “Restroom. BRB.”

I slide my arm around his waist and lick his earlobe.
 

He yelps and jumps off his barstool as if he was on fire. He’s laughing, but I can tell, he’s pissed. “Hey, take it easy. Not interested.”

I turn to face him, seductively crossing my legs and leaning back in my seat.
 

Colin does a doubletake. “What the fuck? Nat?” He looks totally thunderstruck and then tilts his head back and roars in laughter. “What is this?” He fingers my spiky hairdo and looks me up and down with renewed interest. “I like what I see. Is that a wig?”

I hear Ali’s exaggeratedly twangy voice, “Hey, handsome. So now you wanna go to her room?”
 

“Ali?” He opens his eyes wide. “What are you two doing?”

“Actually three, not just two. This is our friend Svetlana.” I point to Svetlana, and she shakes hands with Colin, smiling mischievously.