Painted Scars (Perfectly Imperfect, #1)(38)

One of the maids exits Kostya’s room just as I reach the elevator and, carrying a mop and cleaning supplies, unlocks Leonid’s room and goes inside. Bingo.

I throw the ball toward the other end of the hallway and let Brando chase it for a few minutes.

When I’m sure there’s no one around, I take the ball from Brando and launch it right into Leonid’s room. As expected, he dashes after the ball.

A mix of sounds start coming from the room. The maid crying out. Brando barking. Something

hitting the ground. More barking.

“Brando,” I call, but I don’t expect him to come. When there is a ball involved, all his training vanishes. Very convenient.

I run into the room to find the maid cowering in the corner, holding the mop in front of her in a defensive stance. Brando is ignoring her completely and chases the ball below the small coffee table in the corner. I bend as if to get the ball and hit the table with my hip, which wobbles and tips to the side. A big glass bottle of liquor falls to the floor, crashing. Brando yelps and runs to hide under the bed.

“Get the dustpan and some rags, quickly,” I say to the maid and kneel between the bed and

cupboard as if trying to get the dog.

As soon as she’s out of sight, I take the listening device from my pocket and look around. Most of the empty electricity sockets are in plain view, damn it. I almost decide to use the one next to the overturned table when I notice one empty socket located between the cupboard and the wardrobe. No electricity devices nearby. It’ll have to do. I reach with my hand, and I have just plugged the bug in when I hear fast-approaching steps.

“Come on baby, it’s okay. Come to Mommy,” I coo, reaching under the bed for Brando.

“What are you doing here?” Leonid says from behind me.

I grab the spooked dog and stand up to face Roman’s uncle, who stands at the doorway looking pissed.

“Oh, Brando ran inside chasing the ball and overturned the table. I am so sorry, Leonid. It won’t happen again!”

He looks at Brando with disgust on his face and motions with his head toward the door.

“Get that animal out of here,” he sneers.

I bend to collect the ball from the floor and then run out of the room.

Behind my back, Leonid mumbles, “Idiot.”

Smiling, I return to Roman’s suite.

Once inside, I let my lips stretch into a grin, take a bag with dog treats from the kitchen counter, and give Brando a double ration.

“Good boy.”





Chapter 12


At least a dozen different outfits are sprawled over my bed as I consider which to pick for

tonight’s exhibition. I barely managed to finish the last of the paintings in time. Mark almost had a heart attack when I told him I needed to make some changes on the big guy and wouldn’t be sending it until this morning. He wailed for at least ten minutes about not being able to include it in the catalog. I preferred it that way. I want to watch Roman’s reaction when he sees it for the first time.

Picking black leather pants and a green silky shirt, I drape them over the chair, leaving the rest on the bed. I haven’t slept in this room for quite some time anyway. All my things are here though, because other than sleeping in Roman’s bed, I don’t plan on moving in with him. Okay, that sounds really strange since, well, I do live with him.

“This is so weird,” I mumble, sit down at the vanity, and start applying makeup.

My phone rings, and I take the call without checking the caller ID.

“Nina, is everything okay?”

If I had known it was my mother, I would have let it ring. “Yes.”

“You’ve been avoiding my calls for weeks.”

“Again, yes. I don’t see the point in this call, Mom.”

She doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and then surprises the hell out of me. “Your father and I would like to come to the gallery tonight. If that’s okay with you?”

I look at my reflection in the mirror, wondering if I heard her correctly. My mother has never come to my exhibitions. She once said that my art scares her.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I say finally.

“Why?”

“Well, first, this collection is rather dark. I don’t want you to get a stomach ulcer. And second, Roman will be there.”

“Yeah, about your husband. I’m . . . I’m sorry for what I said that day. It’s just . . . I was surprised and I said some nasty things. It’s hard to understand you sometimes, Nina.”

I close my eyes and sigh. “I’m sorry I can’t be the person you wish for me to be, Mom. I never made it easy for you; I know that. But I am who I am. If you can’t deal with it and accept my choices, that’s okay. Just don’t call me anymore. However, if you can accept my life and my choices without reproach and unnecessary commentary, you are welcome to come tonight.”

“Okay, honey. We will be there.”

I cut the call but stare at the phone in my hand. Why would she change her mind so suddenly? I scroll through my phone, find my father’s number, and call him.

“Nina?”

“You told Mom, didn’t you?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Jesus, Dad.” I slump in the chair and put my hand over my eyes.