Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
He happily hums and barely has time to deliver a sweet kiss before Kat comments, “Miss Grazer-”
“Which teacher is Grazer?” I interrupt, our stares shifting back to our daughter in tandem.
“Music,” my husband instantly answers.
“She thinks it’s weird you call Papa Pet.”
“Little Miss two Mai Tais who starts humming into a different type of microphone?”
“Remy.”
“And she thinks that it’s weird he wears a collar around his neck.”
“It just giant wedding ring, malen'kaya balerina,” Yavok swiftly insists.
“Miss Left at the Alter Six Years Ago clearly struggles with that concept.” Before another chiding can come out of the man I married, I announce, “Sometimes when you love someone, Katarina, you choose affectionate nicknames for them to showcase that love.”
“Da. Like Papa call you malen'kaya balerina.”
“Little ballerina!”
“A tvoy brat kroshechnyy boyets.”
“God, Vlad is a tiny fighter.” Snickers leave all of us as we shift our attention to where he’s enthusiastically punching his empty cup. “Maybe we should get him brass knuckles.”
My husband delivers a swift swat to my ass causing me to laugh louder prior to him insisting our daughter go get washed up for school.
Our ride from the estate to the private academy she attends is done mostly to the sound of her singing. To my surprise, she doesn’t want to talk about her performance from the previous night or the award she won from them for being the youngest member of the performance or even her favorite show The Loud House. All she wants is to incorrectly sing different songs from musicals at the top of her lungs, and while my daughter most certainly has the grace of a swan on the stage, she sounds more like a goose off it. Evans’s gratitude to be freed from the torturous noises is immediately expressed both verbally and physically the instant we pull away from the curb to Kat’s school.
I spend our next stretch of time checking work emails and sending my husband flirty texts that are so well received I damn near completely miss the sharply dressed male waiting for me outside my office door.
I knew he’d be here.
I was just hoping he’d have the decency to wait until after I corrected a different problem before insisting, I deal with his.
“Miss Kessler,” Special Agent Nathan Huckabee smoothly states at the same time his smug smirk expands. “Oh, wait. It’s Mrs. Kessler.”
Tucking my cell into my pants pocket is wordlessly completed.
“You got married a few years ago, but…didn’t take his last name.”
Evans’s frame prepares to move around mine when I lift a single finger to stop him. “Was there a question in there you thought you asked, or are you simply trying to prove to me that you know how to conduct a Google search?”
“I’m Special Agent Huckabee,” he extends an open palm my direction, “with the FBI.”
“I’m aware of who you are, Huckabee.”
“Special Agent Huckabee.”
“Oh, there is nothing special about you agent.” It’s my turn to snobbishly smile. “Trust me.”
Huckabee sucks his teeth and tucks his rejected honey beige shaded hand back into his dark brown suit pocket. “Would you mind if I came into your office for a moment, Mrs. Kessler?”
“Why?”
“I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
The tone I take is more genuine than he probably realizes. “You don’t wanna do that.”
“Excuse me?”
“You must’ve suffered a bit of hearing loss during your time with the Hazardous Devices Unit in Highland.” Condescendingly, I lean into his personal space and theatrically raise the volume of my voice. “I said that you don’t wanna do that.”
He twitches a glare that simply makes me beam brighter. “How do you know about my time in HHDU?”
“You’re not the only one who knows how to use a search engine, Huckabee.”
“Special Agent.”
My slow blink of indifference seems to irk him more. “You’re welcome into my office to ask me questions; however, be forewarned that it’s going to end in tears.” I remove my keycard from where it’s tucked into my blouse pocket and gently tap it against the pad in tandem with promising, “Yours.”
“Is that a threat, Mrs. Kessler?” He pushes his shoulders back and straightens his spine as if trying to prove he’s not afraid of me despite all of his instincts indicating he should be. “Did you just threaten a federal officer?”
“No, I merely made an educational guess regarding the pending situation.”
“A prediction?”
“Semantics, Huckabee.”
I strut inside past him with Evans practically glued to my back, forcing the agent to be the last in the room. Once he’s there, he grants himself a quick surveying of the situation, most likely looking for the cameras and stashed weapons he can’t see. Lowering myself into my chair has just finished happening, when he requests, “Can we speak in private?”
“We are in private.”
“Alone, Mrs. Kessler.”
“We are alone.”
“Perhaps you don’t know the definition of the word.”
“Are you looking to present me with an etymology lesson, or would you like to ask me the questions you idiotically came here to ask?”