Cal didn’t have a goddamn clue how Natalya had got her hooks in him. She hadn’t even done anything.
He tried to recall the stick that the girl had been, growing up like a w**d before she…grew out. Always overshadowed by her friends.
It wasn’t that Natalya Lamont was some sort of weakfish—even as a girl she’d had a spine made out of steel. It even showed in her dancer’s posture, so poised that she made everyone else appear to be slouching just a little. Too bad Frau Schmidt, the only decent dance teacher for thirty miles around, had died when Natalya was still a kid or she might have really become something.
No, it wasn’t that she was overshadowed.
It was more as if her two friends were such amazing distractors.
Becky was just so out there, a whirling dervish of energy and ideas. She’d
