Chapter 7
“The restaurant is fine, Scooter,” Kat snapped into the telephone as soon as she picked it up. “Stop worrying.”
Scooter checked the hall again; no one was in sight. Eleanor had dragged Andy off—alone—to pay morning calls, whatever that meant. But it didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone around. “That’s not what I called about,” Scooter said, dropping into Ukrainian. It wasn’t likely that the maid service or the cook spoke Ukrainian.
“Then what is it you need?” Kat slipped into Ukrainian with the familiarity of stepping into an old and comfortable pair of shoes.
“I need you to tell me I’m not screwing up,” Scooter said.
“Are you screwing up?”
Typical Kat. Scooter would have almost smiled except he was too goddamn worried. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t think so, but…oh, Go
