“Eyes on me, Konstantin!” Pasha barks.
“Jesus f**k, man!” Kostya cringes. “Don’t do that. Only my babushka calls me by my full name, usually when I’ve f****d something up.”
“Contracts. Now.”
“What the f**k has gotten into you? Did you change your f*****g personality along with your wardrobe? Christ.” He grabs a stack of papers out of the drawer and tosses them on the desk in front of Pasha. “Here.”
Pasha starts signing the contracts, but his left hand retains its hold on mine the entire time. He’s wearing jeans and a black sweater today. I tried to convince him to put on a suit, but he said no.
Kostya pretends to be busy with something on the computer screen, but I notice him throwing a quick look at me every few seconds.
Once Pasha is done signing, he pushes the papers to the
