The Dysfunctional Affair

job. I could do worse than Nadine for a wife. My mother isn’t religious, so I’ve never been baptized, I might as well be Russian Orthodox. If your mother has told my mother,” Zeke shrugged.

  “Wuss,” I muttered, feeling the effects of the whiskey and Vicodin.

  “That would be correct,” Zeke answered. “Are you drunk?”

  “Yes.” I took the bottle and finished it off. Ivan produced another from an unknown location near his leg.

  “I thought we might need several while we brainstormed ways to get you out of getting married.” Ivan offered.

  “I could get killed instead of kidnapped,” I offered with a hiccup.

  “This has just been boiled down to the base: death or marriage.” Ivan brought out another bottle, setting it next to the other unopened one on the table. “I might need to go back to the liquor store.”

  Hangovers

  In the morning, I felt like crap. I had passed out at my dining room table. Ivan and Zeke were still passed out. I thought about pointing out they were crappy body guards, but the truth was, I didn’t care. They deserved to be passed out. I didn’t remember most of the night. There were over a dozen whiskey bottles scattered around the room.

  Even more surprising, Alex and Sebastian were both passed out in my living room. At some point, we had called in reinforcements, probably for the booze and not our protection. Anubis, my largest Great Dane, let out a small yowl. There was an empty bottle of whiskey next to him. He stood up, took two steps, and face planted. My dog was drunk. He flopped onto his side and let out the yowl again. It was a sound I had never heard from him.

  Marduk, his brother, answered the yowl with a similar noise. Baldur got to his feet and staggered to the water bowl. He lapped at the water, one foot off the ground, his butt slightly lower than the rest of his body.

  “The Great Danes are drunk!” I shouted.

  “Jeez, Nadine,” Ivan groaned.

  “My dogs are drunk. How did my dogs get drunk?” I asked.

  “I don’t remember,” Ivan answered. “I don’t remember much after Alex called me. Did they ever come over?”

  “Yes,” I kicked Alex’s leg. She groaned. “My dogs are drunk.”

  “It was your idea,” she rolled over. “You’re the one that gave Anubis an open bottle to commiserate with us about your upcoming nuptials.”

  “Wow!” Anthony walked into the room. I hadn’t heard him enter. My dogs all yowled again. “Are they drunk?”

  “Yes,” I snapped at him. “In theory, it was my idea. I feel bad for them.”

  “You should feel bad for yourself. Your mother is going to pick out invitations this afternoon. You’re getting married on Valentine’s Day.” Anthony told us.

  “That’s impossible. It’s January. These things take time.” I told him.

  “Not with your mother.” Anthony looked around. “Oh, I’m guessing that’s what the whiskey was about.”

  “Yes,” Zeke stood up. “We realized we couldn’t talk her out of it, so Ivan came over with whiskey. She’s done this before.”

  “I know,” Anthony answered. “Hangover breakfasts?”

  “If I eat, I’ll die,” Ivan told him. “I need to call work and Amy.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Anthony said. “Amy called and asked me to check on you. She’s the one that told me about Melina picking out invitations today. Amy called work for you and said there was a family emergency. Zeke, you good?”

  “I’m great,” he started singing I’m Getting Married in the Morning.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot you,” I told him. “If you keep shouting, I’m going to shoot you too. And we are not having breakfast, my head cannot stand the idea of pots and pans banging around. I don’t think the reality will be any easier on me.” I glared at Anthony. He smiled back.

  “Hey, if she shoots you, you might be able to get out of the wedding,” Ivan offered.

  “Is there any more whiskey?” I asked.

  “No, the dogs finished off all the bottles,” Sebastian sat up on my living room floor. “After everyone passed out, there were a couple of bottles left. Anubis, having had a taste, decided he wanted more. They managed to figure out how to open the bottles.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked Sebastian.

  “Because I didn’t drink like you guys,” Sebastian looked at me. “I had three shots, and I can handle that. I did attempt to take the bottles away from the dogs, but Baldur snapped at me.”

  “That explains why they are all drunk,” Zeke shrugged. He turned his phone on. After about thirty seconds, it began sending alerts faster than my head could handle. He paled again.

  “Zeke? What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  “My mother is on a plane, headed here,” Zeke turned his phone towards me. I read the text message and hung my head. I was fairly certain this day could not get any worse.

  “Okay, ignoring Zeke and I’s wedding for a moment, have we made any progress with Amanda Reed?” I asked.

  “Kenzie has tracked her to somewhere in Spain,” Anthony said. “She hopped on a plane before the whole incident with your mother happened.”

  “We’ve got the husband in protective custody. He’s willing to turn on the mob to save his skin. The US Marshals pick him up today.” Ivan told me. “However, until you find the mob’s money or Amanda Reed, they are going to keep coming after you.”

  “Well, they can deal with my mother,” I snapped at him. It actually wasn’t a bad idea. She’d made stronger men cry. I was getting married because of her. She really was a force of nature. I’d give them to her and they might decide the money wasn’t worth it.

  “We could start a war,” Anthony offered. “It would buy us some time. If the Russians find out that the Italians are trying to kill you, it might piss off the Russians enough to cause some friction.”

  “I think we’ll use that as a last resort.” My family had been in all sorts of things; they were members of the KGB, Spetznaz, and now the new Russian police. The Russian Mob didn’t like us very much. To make it worse, my mother had once brokered a deal between the Russian Mob and the CIA in a sting operation. It was why the Russians had tried to kill me, on more than one occasion. However, in recent years they had backed off because my family in Russia was just as determined as my family in the US. My mother’s brother had moved to the top of the ranks and loved busting down the doors of mobsters. His son did it too, but wasn’t a cop. He was more like Anthony. It never ended well for the mob when my cousin, Vasili, came into their houses. “See if Vasili can meet with Kenzie in Spain.”

  “Kenzie and Vasili?” Alex looked at me. Alex was my first cousin on my mother’s side. Kenzie was my first cousin on my father’s side. However, they were friends with each other and knew each other well. Kenzie would have made an excellent Russian woman.

  “We need resources, Vasili is a resource,” I looked at Alex. “The worst that can happen is Vasili gets tasered or hit with a hammer. He’ll complain about it, but I’ll just give him more money and the problem will be solved.”

  “Or Kenzie marries him and he becomes ex number six,” Alex said. Kenzie had been married and divorced five times, despite being only a year older than me. She had no children and despite owning a thriving business, she was always broke because of alimony.

  “She’s never been attracted to Russian men and Vasili is definitely Russian,” I shrugged. “I don’t have any other ideas. If you do, I’m all ears.” Alex was quiet.

  “Then I think I should go too,” Anthony said. He frowned. “If the lot of you think you can keep from having a repeat drunk fest, that is.”

  “No promises,” I told him. “Just wait, one day, my mother will sink her claws into you, and you’ll be the one getting married.”

  “I am aware of that possibility,” Anthony grabbed his phone and called Lucy. Lucy called back after a few moments to give
him the itinerary. “So, breakfast?”

  “Good lord,” I groaned. Baldur was passed out on the stairs. Loki was passed out a few steps further up. There was no way I was getting up them. “I can’t get upstairs to change.”

  “Yes, but now you have pans, so we can cook,” Anthony told me.

  “You guys cook,” I looked at the clock. “I’m going to go make calls.”

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Devlin, Vladik, and Liam,” I answered.

  “They already know.”

  “I expect them to know; I’m hoping they have a way out of this mess.” I told him.

  “Which mess?” Ivan asked.

  “Well, they all work for agencies with initials, not names. Maybe they can give me something on Amanda Reed,” I started dialing Liam. “If not, maybe they can help me and Zeke disappear before our mothers meet.”

  The three brothers smart enough to move away were no help. They wouldn’t abuse their positions to find out information about Amanda, although Liam was interested in the mob angle, since he worked for the FBI. Not one of them had a single clue what to do about my getting married. They all wished me luck and said they were requesting time off to attend.

  My phone rang. The number that came up made my stomach churn. It was my cousin, Katya. Katya’s parents owned a furniture store. I was sure she was calling to congratulate me on the wedding.

  “Hello, Katya,” I answered.

  “Nadine, I’m so happy for you,” she said with a slight accent. Most of my cousins were first generation Americans. That