“You keep watching those girls,” Kostas said to Miklos from where they stood in the office overlooking the dance club. “Who are they?”
“I have no f*****g clue,” Miklos groaned in frustration. “When they first came in, they reminded me of my wife and her two friends, but I think it’s only because she’s on my mind and she always has her two friends with her. If you look around this club, there are more trios of women than you can shake a stick at."
“Which one looks like Dimitra?” Kostas asked curiously.
“The curvy one,” he let his eyes dwell on the woman in the private booth swinging her hips far too enthusiastically. She was drunk, in fact all three of them appeared wasted from his vantage point. “Her hair isn’t red though.”
“Did she dye it? Maybe she’s here being sneaky.”
“Helios said
