She hasn’t been very far from me tonight. Apparently, the girl has it in her head that she’s going to be the next Mrs. Stepanov.
Of course, Jasmine doesn’t deign to respond, so Jhené turns to me. She hooks her arm around mine possessively. “Which blonde is she talking about, Anton?”
Jasmine stares at the two of us with amusement. The older she gets, the more readily her claws come out. It’s how she compensates for the boredom in her personal life. Apparently, the third husband is turning out to be quite the disappointment. Easy on the eyes, but no one is home upstairs.
“You do seem to have a thing for blondes, don’t you, Anton?” Jasmine asks.
“Which blonde?” Jhené asks again, growing frustrated.
“I’d say you’re about to find out,” Jasmine says with a little chuckle.
I turn just in ti
