Chapter 35
Saturday evening, Velvet Underground Speakeasy
W aiting to enact the most high-stakes, last-ditch, Hail Mary plan of her life, everything hinged on Smirnov. He said that he’d be there in half an hour, and Gabby couldn’t tear her eyes from the door.
“Waiting for a hot date?” Betty whispered in her ear.
Gabby laughed nervously.
Everyone else was worried about where the ice cubes were. This was the bad part of being undercover. Guaranteed the guys who dropped out of a plane to kill Osama Bin Laden weren’t being harassed about cocktail napkins and ice cube dimensions, but here she was hostessing at T-minus the end of her world.
“Camille, should Kramer do his presentation before or after the dessert rolls out?”
Who the fuck cares. I’m about to die.
“Camille, where do we put our coats?”
Light them on fire if you want.
“Camille, where are the tiny drink straws?”
Another state. Plastic straws are illegal, bitch.
“Camille, can you tell the performer she’s too loud?”
There was no way she was going to tell Betty Danger she was too loud. One, it was Betty, and she could do what she wanted. Two, she needed the distraction for the plan that hinged on Smirnov’s arrival. Nothing was safe from traffic in LA. He was probably stuck on the 405.
Because Fran loved managing details and she had better things to worry about, Gabby directed everyone her way. Merry Christmas, Fran.
Valentina tapped her on the shoulder, and she almost jumped out of her skin.
She narrowed her eyes at Gabby. “You’re acting like you’re the one with the hard job tonight, Agent Greene.”
Gabby laughed nervously.
“You have a problem. One of your kids is out front, something about her iPad.”
“What?”
Just like Valentina said, Kyle was standing around wide-eyed in front of the drag club. “Why are you at Uncle Justin’s club?” she asked. “And whose pants are those?”
“Why are you here?” Gabby asked, incredulous.
“I used Find My iPhone to find you. You have my iPad.”
“What?” Gabby couldn’t even with this development.
“I need it for my homework.”
Gabby looked down her nose, not believing the homework line for one second. Kyle needed it for TikTok. She grabbed Kyle’s hand and escorted her out to the street, where Granny was parked. She shut the car door firmly and said, in her most serious voice, “I will be home in a few hours. Go home!”
“Just bring out my iPad, will you? It’s in your bag.”
“NO!”
From the back of the car, Lucas said, “Can I have my pen back?”
“NO!”
Inside the speakeasy, she looked at Valentina and shook her head. “What in the hell? Why would my grandmother drive them here?”
Valentina laughed, for once looking really amused. “Did you give her the iPad?”
“No!”
Valentina laughed. “Good work holding the line. I don’t know how you do it.”
Over Valentina’s shoulder, Gabby spied her quarry. Smirnov strode into the party in evening attire. He was at least six feet, probably more, broad, with a dad bod. Truth be told, he was kind of hot.
Gabby caught his eye from across the room, and he stalked her way, grabbing a martini off a waiter’s tray without breaking stride. Everyone in this operation had James Bond training but her.
Valentina looked between her and Smirnov. “Who is that?”
Gabby laughed it off. “Another family member. I can’t get rid of them tonight.” As she headed toward Smirnov, she added, “Be right back. I need to get rid of this one too.”
“Did you bring it?” he asked, skipping even the barest of preambles. “I like parties, but I’d prefer one without the government.” A little smile quirked his lips, and he added, “Although it’s not bad to get my heart rate up now and then.”
“Well, thanks for coming,” she said, like he was an invited guest.
“I am not here to chitchat. Hand me the codes, and we’re done.”
“Be patient.”
Smirnov leaned in like he was telling her a secret, his breath caressing her neck as he said, “You realize that I have a man stationed outside your home. At my signal, he will kill your family.”
Gabby tried to still her trembling. She was scared, but she wasn’t as scared as she looked. Men never took her seriously, and now was not the moment to change that. She had spent her whole life doing as told, listening to dudes who sounded like they knew what they were doing. Phil—she’d tried to make him happy for fifteen years, and look where that had gotten her.
Kramer—that asshole couldn’t even tell the difference between her and Darcy. To him, women were literally interchangeable, Swatch watch bands, only good for serving his immediate needs. Half the guys at this party were the same, only interested in her if there wasn’t a prettier woman in sight. Smirnov was the worst—literally threatening to kill her children. Who the fuck did he think he was?
Gabby was done with being bossed around by average men. Why had she tolerated it all these years? To fit in with other moms in the pickup line? There were no good options for a regular woman with kids. Career-woman mode came with inadequate time off, six weeks of maternity leave, insane childcare costs, and limited time with their children—stresses that she couldn’t name because she hadn’t chosen that path. Until this week.
The soccer mom path came with low self-esteem and plenty of time with people who didn’t necessarily respect you or want that much time with you.
Most of the women she knew thought they were selfish for thinking they deserved more. Well, fuck that.
She did deserve more, and she definitely didn’t deserve to be threatened. Hell, she’d walked into this job because of some fucking divorce paperwork. Fuck Phil for the seek work order, and fuck Smirnov for thinking he could threaten to kill her family.
“I know you’re scared, rybka. All I need are the codes.”
She let his pandering stoke her rage, even while she whimpered. Let him think he had her where he wanted her.
Time to pull out her best Meryl Streep. She harnessed her real fear and let her breath come fast and shallow. Like she wasn’t going to make it, she rubbed her temples.
Softly and menacingly, he repeated, “Where are the codes?”
“In the back. I’ll show you.”
As she gestured to the swinging door to the kitchen, she palmed one of the darts Valentina had given her. There was an hors d’oeuvres trolley directly in front of Smirnov, but the attendant was nowhere to be found. It was her chance. As he looked toward the kitchen, Gabby jabbed him in the ass with the dart.
Smirnov gasped, and Gabby braced herself for the whole plan to go sideways. Every reason for failure raced through her brain at once: Maybe he’d been too big to dart. Did he need a double dose? What if he screamed or he fell on the floor instead of the cart? Then his eyes drooped, and he slumped onto the cart as planned. In the background, Betty yelled, “Yaaas, Queen!” almost like it was for her. Hopefully, it was for one of the bankers.
A second later, Betty appeared. “Um, Camille…”
Gabby smiled brightly. “He had one too many. Will you help me wheel him into the back?”
Without question, Betty stepped in to help, but she looked up through her lashes with a particularly sassy look. “Girl, this explanation better be good.”
“It is,” Gabby said, as they heaved the cart toward the back. It would have been her luck to get the trolley with a bad wheel that pulled to the left. “This is better than a Target cart,” she exclaimed.
Betty shouldered in and took the handle. “Let me push. He’s cute.” When she bumped him into the wall, she apologized, “So sorry, Daddy.”
“Betty!”
“You know he’s a daddy. Look at him!”
As Betty pushed Smirnov through the door to the service area, she glanced at the party. No one had noticed a thing. Everyone’s eyes were on Kramer and Orlov.
Betty said, “Where would you like your groceries, ma’am?”
Gabby repeated her usual line. “In the back is fine.”
While Gabby held the door open, Betty wheeled him into a storage room behind the kitchen, just some boxes and dim lighting. Perfect.
“What should we do with him?” Betty asked.
“I’ll take it from here.”
Betty held up her hands and said, “He’s all yours. I’m married anyway.”
Gabby laughed. “It’s not what you think, but if you can handle the party for a while, I’d appreciate it.”
Betty raised her perfectly penciled-in eyebrows. “You’ve got some ’splaining to do, Camille Walker .”
When Gabby walked back into the party, Valentina strode toward her with purpose. “It took me a minute to remember his face, but now that I did, I’m really confused. Why were you talking to Eduard Smirnov?”
At that moment, Gabby knew that Valentina wasn’t the mole, but she couldn’t risk her wrecking her plan. They were standing right next to a quiet booth, not a bad place to ride out the party… “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”