Whiskey Sharp: Unraveled. Lauren Dane

but he was an absolute fool for babies and animals. He was my number one fan and my touchstone. When he paid attention to you, you knew he heard everything you said, though he would steal your food if you turned your back, and you never left your iced tea unmonitored if he was around.

      Sure, he had flaws, like all humans. But the fact that he wasn’t my biological father wasn’t one of them. He came into my life when I was just four and he was every bit my dad.

      I’ll miss him every single day, but damn, I’m so grateful I had him.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Praise

       Dedication

       AUTHOR NOTE

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

       CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

       CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

       CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

       Extract

       ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

       AUTHOR NOTE

      THERE IS NO actual Bootleggers’ Building. I took the history of the area and took a little literary license to create it for Whiskey Sharp to live in. Pioneer Square, the part of downtown Seattle I set the book in, is real though, as is the Underground Tour.

       CHAPTER ONE

      Two years ago

      THE OLD-FASHIONED RED, white and blue barber pole lazily spun inside a glass case just outside the front door to Whiskey Sharp. Jaunty, she thought. A good sign. Classic and simple.

      The bell over the door jingled as she opened it and stepped inside, greeted by the scent of sandalwood and mint. Scissors snipped and clippers hummed and it felt very much like a place she’d like to stop and stay awhile.

      A broad-shouldered gent with a vest and a crisp white button-down shirt came over. “Welcome to Whiskey Sharp. You in for a cut?”

      “I’m actually looking for Alexsei Petrov.”

      Broad Shoulders gave her a slow head-to-toe look. “He’s just finishing up. He’s booked today, so if you want him to do your cut, we can get you in tomorrow.”

      “I don’t need a cut, thanks. I just need a few minutes of his time. Irena Orlova sent me.”

      Broad Shoulders relaxed at the mention of Mrs. Orlova’s name. “Okay. Just hang out here for a bit. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

      Maybe thanked him and moved to the small waiting area near the windows, taking in the space as she tried not to be nervous.

      Whiskey Sharp was all wood and brass. An old-school barbershop area was off to the right with individual chairs and stations. Guys with tattoos and suspenders worked on men from their early twenties into their fifties.

      The floor was hardwood. Oak, by the looks of it, well-worn to a shine near the doorways and points that got a lot of traffic.

      And in the back, opposite the barbershop space, there was a long bar with stools fronting it. She’d heard the place had just started serving alcohol in the evenings for several hours. Small tables and a few group seating areas dotted the space in deep forest green velvet and cognac tanned leather.

      Old-school. And yet very clean and elegant. The kind of place you could hang out in and relax a little.

      Somehow, seeing it like that, with all the beauty in the deliberate choices made in decorating and the feel of the workers in the place, her nervousness seemed to ebb.

      She could do this. She knew her way around a haircut and shave. She just had to convince Mrs. Orlova’s nephew of the same.

      * * *

      ALEXSEI