Chicago Bratva 03: The Fixer by Renee Rose

Author:Renee Rose [Rose, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Burning Desires
Published: 2021-01-29T14:00:00+00:00

Maxim

Only Kayla can meet us for brunch, but she seemed like Sasha’s closest friend, anyway. We meet her at a beachfront cafe in Santa Monica. I’m itchy with all the people around, but I have a piece tucked in the back of my waistband, with my shirt untucked to cover it. I still don’t expect trouble—not yet, anyway—but you never know.

There’s something off about Vladimir’s death. The fact that the killer didn’t just outright announce himself and say he was taking over seems strange to me. I need to know what’s going on there to stay on top of any threat that may come Sasha’s way.

Kayla shows up still as cute and chipper as she was last night. She throws her arms around Sasha and then me like we’re old friends. I kiss her cheek and hold both their chairs like the perfect gentleman.

“Oh my God, I may have just found an agent,” Kayla gushes the moment we sit down. “She specializes in commercials, but whatever. I’ll start anywhere.”

Sasha grabs her hand across the table. “OMG, tell me everything. How did you find her? What’s the deal?”

I half-listen as the women dive deep into the story of a chance meeting at her hairdressers that netted a callback this morning.

We’re interrupted by the waitress, and we order food. I ask for Mimosas with their best champagne and the women light up.

“So if this works out, I’ll have you to thank, really.” Kayla beams at Sasha after the waitress leaves.

“How is that?” I ask.

Kayla turns her wide blue eyes on me. She’s got that Buffy the Vampire Slayer look going—a cute little dynamo in the All-American way. “Sasha’s the one who got me going to Monique, our hairdresser. She’s way out of my budget, but Sasha sniffed out the best in L.A., and that studio is where things happen. I mean, I felt like Monique practically acted as my agent with the agent. You know? Like she made the introduction while we were both sitting next to each other with foils in our hair.”

Sasha shifts in her chair and looks at her manicure. “Well, I’m happy for you, but also—I’m so jealous, bitch.”

Something twists in my chest. Sasha had dreams. Maybe I hoped she hadn’t—that her theatre degree was just some fluffy thing to do while she enjoyed college. Sasha could probably buy that agent’s agency, she could fund her own movies, but I doubted that would be as exciting as the achievement of the Hollywood dream. Getting discovered. Auditioning. Nailing the part. Making it big. Those experiences couldn’t be bought.

But no problem can’t be fixed. That’s my motto, and it’s never failed me. So I’ll have to figure something out. Something that lights my bride up back in Chicago.

Our drinks arrive, and I lift my champagne flute in Kayla’s direction. “To new opportunities.”

“For all of us,” Kayla counters, and we clink glasses.

Sasha steals a look at me. She’s been doing that since we checked out of the hotel, and I hired a driver for the day.

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