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“I’ll speak to Lissa,” she said at last. “And I’m sure Dimitri will too. In the meantime, let’s hope that if we follow your advice and expect Adrian to sober up soon, he will.”
We had just paid the check when Dimitri’s cell phone rang. “Hello?” he answered. And like that, his face transformed. That fierceness I so associated with him softened, and he practically glowed. “No, no. It’s always a good time for you to call, Roza.” Whatever the response on the other end was, it made him smile.
“Rose,” said Sonya to me. She stood up. “Let’s give them a little privacy. You want to take a walk?”
“Sure,” I said, rising as well. Outside, dusk was falling. “There’s a costume store a few blocks away I actually want to check—if they’re still open.”
Sonya glanced at Dimitri. “Meet us there?” she whispered. He gave a quick nod. Once we were outside in the warm evening air, she laughed. “Ah, those two. In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt.”
“Is that how you and Mikhail are?” I asked, thinking there wasn’t much melting with Brayden and me, no matter how much I enjoyed spending time with him.
She laughed again and glanced up at the sky, painted in shades of orange and blue. “Not exactly. Every relationship is different. Everyone loves differently.” There was a long pause as she chose her next words. “That was a nice thing you chose to do for Adrian.”
“There was no choice to be made,” I countered. We crossed onto a busier street, full of brightly lit stores with water misters outside that were meant to cool off hot shoppers. I winced at what that mist was doing to my hair. “I had to help. He didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. I can’t imagine how Adrian’s put up with that his whole life. And would you believe that what worried Adrian the most was that I would think less of him?”
“Actually,” said Sonya softly, “I can very much believe that.”
The costume store was still open, thanks to extended Halloween hours, but only for ten more minutes. Sonya wandered around the aisles with no real goal, but I headed immediately for the historical section. They had exactly one Greek-style dress left, a plain white gown with a gold plastic belt. I knelt down to take a better look. Opening the package, I felt the fabric. It was cheap, probably flammable. The dress was also an XL, and I wondered if Jill had learned enough in sewing club to take it in for me. With less than a week until the dance, my options were limited.
“Really?” a voice beside me said. “Haven’t you insulted me enough without resorting to this trash?”
Standing above me was Lia DiStefano. Her curly hair was bound up with a bright red scarf, and a voluminous peasant blouse made her petite body look like it had wings. She peered down at me disapprovingly with kohl-lined eyes.