Free Almost Broken Up (Almost Bad Boys) by A.O. Peart

look for money she owes me. You stay here and watch this guy, okay? Oh, be gentle with Lenochka, please.” Svetlana looks pleadingly at Ali and me and adds, “It will not take long.”  
    I huff and shake my head. “Fine. Just hurry.”
    They walk up the vast staircase and disappear behind the double doors on the second floor.  
    “Why are we staying? Let’s go. This is crazy.” Ali grabs my arm and pulls me away from the door.  
    “No, wait.”
    “Why?” Ali’s eyes are huge.  
    “I don’t know. I just don’t want to leave her alone. She seems like a nice girl.”
    “Are you out of your mind, Nat?” Ali looks at me as if I’m mad. I probably am, but I can’t help my curiosity taking over.  
    The escort turns to us, and I almost regret not being able to enjoy the superb view of his perfect ass clad in tight jeans. But the front view is as good—the tight muscles of his stomach and chest are easy on the eye.  
    Ali whistles and crosses her arms. One of her brows lifts in appreciation. “So where did you come from, ace?”
    He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and smiles sheepishly, shrugging. “I’m just a companion.”
    “And a fine one for sure.” Ali purrs.  
    I smack her on the arm.  
    “Heeeyyyy,” she protests, twisting her body toward me. “You gotta admit he’s yummy.”
    “Did you forget what the hell is going on around here?” I swipe my arm, indicating the whatever I’m trying to indicate—maybe just the fact that we are freakin’ trespassing and our new friend is holding someone at gun point upstairs.  
    Ali shrugs. “Such fine masculine body is becoming a rare commodity these days.”
    My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “And that’s your excuse to salivate over… uhm, what’s your name?”  
    “I’m Josh.” The guy puts his hand out, and Ali shakes it, beaming at him. She’s so in her element.  
    My phone vibrates in my pocket. There is a text from Colin, “So what are you doing tonight, babe? Getting into some trouble with Ali?”  
    Okay, did I send the S.O.S. vibes to him? Or is he a mind reader, because this hits way too close to home. I need to text him back, or he will call to check on me. While Ali flirts with Josh, I start typing, “Yeah, something like that. I should be home later. Will call you. I love you.” And then I yell, “Svetlana, get your ass over here!”
    “You both stay downstairs, would you? I’m going to drag her out of there.” I walk up the stairs with the kitten snuggled in the crook of my arm, admiring the architecture and the tasteful interior decorating. As soon as I get closer to the upstairs doors, I hear the women argue. I enter and see Svetlana, towering over Amelie, who’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered designer shoes.  
    “Not my fault that your feet are so big, Svetlana. Maybe you should look into men’s sizes.” Amelie throws an empty shoe bag with the Prada logo printed on over her shoulder and glares at Svetlana.  
    “You French midget.” Svetlana stomps her foot. “And where do you shop? In kids’ department?”
    This is odd. “What’s going on here?” I ask.  
    They don’t pay me any attention, but continue bitching at each other. Between Svetlana’s rough Russian accent and Amelie’s strong French one I have a hard time understanding what’s happening. On top of it, they both throw foreign words into the conversation. My head starts to spin. Svetlana’s gun is nowhere to be seen, and I’m hoping it’s safely tucked into her Hermes purse.  
    “Svetlana, Amelie! What the hell? What is this? A shopping spree?” I yell.
    They look at me, finally silent. Svetlana explains, “She only had five thousand dollars in cash, which is the sum she borrowed from me three weeks ago.”
    “So let’s go. You’ve got your money back.” I motion her to the door.  
    “I need interest too.” Svetlana puts one hand on her hip. “She promised to pay back in one week. It’s been