“There really is someone else.” He looked the way she’d felt when she discovered that the healthy cookies she’d bought at the bakery near her apartment in The Loop neighborhood of downtown Chicago were really calorie-laden carb balls.
Dammit, everything was confusing right now. Once again, he took her silence as an affirmative, and Roman looked like he’d been struck.
He stood then, holding his hands out in what seemed to be surrender. “Sorry. I didn’t realize—”
The door pushed open and Babushka breezed through.
Lothario had retreated to his doggie bed. He lifted his head up, gave a little grunt, and settled his head back on his paws.
“Thank you both for your help.” Baubushka bustled in like she lived there.
Sadie happened to know she did not.
“It vas such help,” Babushka continued on. “Now, you go get to know each other better vithout responsibility.”
Um. What?
Roman’s expression had changed when she’d told him she was committed. It hadn’t shifted back to the relaxed Roman of before.
“Babushka.” Roman stood. He gave a slight shake of his head.
“Chill out.” Babushka waved her hands toward him, ignoring whatever his message was. “Have drink. Make me a grandchild.”
Sadie’s mouth dropped open. She tried to stop it; really, she did.
“I do not judge,” Babushka said.
“That’s not happening tonight,” Roman said, like it was an issue of timing and the problem was the particular night and not the fact that it was never going to happen.
“This is disappointment.” The frown lines around Babushka’s mouth intensified. “You make me sad, Roman Dvornakov. I am dying woman and you break my heart.”
Roman glanced toward the ceiling, apparently searching for divine inspiration but, from experience, Sadie knew all he’d find was a vaulted ceiling.
“You aren’t dying,” he said.
“Ve are all dying.” Blowing him off, Babushka hurried toward Sadie. “My Sadie. You are good for Roman. You vill make him very happy.”
Okay. Seriously. What? Sadie’s clients often played games. She was good with it. She usually had no problem following along, but right now?
“Sorry?” Sadie asked.
Babushka held her palms to Sadie’s cheeks, squishing them together. “It is truth.”
Generally, Sadie had a don’t-touch-my-face rule when it came to people she’d only recently met. But given that she had no idea what was going on, or what Babushka was talking about, she didn’t move.
“Roman announced tonight that you are getting married.” Babushka lifted her hands in praise like she was at church on Sunday.
Sadie shot her gaze to Roman.
He looked a little guilty.
Again, she’d ask, what?
“You said that, Babushka.” Roman squeezed his grandmother’s arms. “Not me.”
“He says this in front of everyone at the vedding.” Babushka lifted her shoulders.
“You said that in front of everyone at the wedding,” Roman countered.
“Why on earth did anyone say it?” Sadie glanced around to see if she was on one of those television shows where they jumped out and exclaimed that they got you good. “And at which wedding?”
“Ve vere just at the vedding, dear.” Babushka gave Sadie a look like she thought Sadie had perhaps faked her way into law school.
“Sadie, I’d like to introduce you to my babushka,” Roman said, making literally no sense at all.
Sadie slid her gaze to Roman. “We’ve met, Rome.”
More than once, as a matter of fact.
“Ahh, but you don’t know that she is a master manipulator.” Roman’s lips dipped down into a frown. “And she’s working to manipulate us.”
“Manipulate us into what?” Sadie asked.
“I’m pretty sure she’d like it to end with lots of great-grandchildren.”
Babushka glared at him. “You are very bad grandson.”
“I’m your favorite grandson,” Roman assured, confident for a guy in a tiff with his grandmother.
Babushka switched tactics. “You and Sadie need some time to get to know each other. This is all.”
“We actually do know each other,” Sadie replied.
“I’m not playing games.” Roman grabbed his suit coat, set his house key precisely on the end table, and started for the door. He stopped. Turned. Caught Sadie’s attention with only a look. “Sadie.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been great to see you. You know where to find me. Whenever you’re free”—the last word held an abundance of meaning—“I’d love to catch up. Officially.”
Actually, Sadie had no idea where to find him. She opened her mouth to say that.
It didn’t matter, given that Roman strode out the door before she could even form a word. The door clicked behind him.
Sadie, Babushka, and Lothario all stared at the space he’d vacated.
“This is vhat ve vill do.” Babushka snapped her fingers for Lothario.
He scrambled into place at her left, sitting like he was on duty and not like he’d been eyeballing Roman’s shoes barely five minutes earlier.
Babushka sprang into action like she was a conspirator in the planning of Sadie’s life.
Oh dear, Sadie was nearly certain she would not like whatever Babushka was about to suggest.
“Ven he comes back inside, you vill act surprised.” Babushka made her eyes big, as though letting Sadie in on a huge secret.
There was a moment in a trial when an attorney knew they’d lost. It didn’t usually happen at closing arguments. Earlier on in the presentations and arguments, there was generally a strange acceptance that settled into the marrow of their bones. A strange peace that preceded losing the battle.
That’s the exact feeling Sadie had in that moment.
The odd numb along with a determination to sally forth and give her best effort.
Babushka gave a sly grin. “Then, you vill offer to—”
The door burst open and Roman marched inside. “You know I love you, but you cannot do things like this and get away without any consequences.”
An utter picture of Madonna-esque innocence, Babushka lifted her chin. “Vhat are you going on about?”
Roman’s entire face had gone the interesting reddish-orange shade of Eli’s famous vodka-tomato sauce. He didn’t speak to his grandmother. He turned to Sadie instead. “She let the air out of my tires.”
Oh. Seriously? Dayum. Babushka was serious about her manipulations.
Sadie wasn’t sure whose side she’d end up on, but maybe she’d end up with a new client. It’s not like she had no experience with the other branches of law. Divorce law just happened to be her specialty.
“Vandalism is a pretty big accusation,” Sadie said.
That was neutral. It threw no one into the line of fire.
“Vhat are you saying?” Babushka asked as though she were a fifth grader and they were on a field trip to Mars.
Roman leveled a death-ray stare her way. “I think you know what it means.”
Babushka sighed, a touch too heavily. “This one, he is difficult. I love him. God bless him. Is good thing he is handsome.”
“My tires. They have no air,” Roman said through gritted teeth. “Someone let the air out of them.”
“Oh dear.” Babushka shook her head. “Vhy vould they do this thing?”
“That’s what I’m asking you,” Roman said.
The numb had passed and Sadie was certain she should probably say something. She just had no idea what that might be.
Babushka beat her to it, tsking and saying, “This is not good neighborhood.”
Roman looked as though he might throttle his grandmother. “It’s a gated community. And now I have to find someone who can come fill them up.”
“You just said they are no good tires. No air in tires is not good tires.” Babushka lifted Lothario and stroked his head. No
t to say she had a whole evil genius schtick going on, but it wasn’t totally absent. “You make no sense, my grandson.”
Roman shoved his hands on his hips, his murderous expression making Sadie’s alarm bells ring louder.
“I’ll call roadside assistance.” He searched the pockets of his suit jacket. “Shit. Where’s my cell phone?”
Sadie sorted through the throw pillows on the sofa, but her gaze snagged on Babushka as the woman’s poker face slipped.
Oh crapola.
“Did you take Rome’s phone?” Sadie did her best to channel the attorney she brought into the courtroom. The one who took no shit. “Because that would be theft.”
“Roman should take better care of his things. He misplaces this. He loses air in tires in that.” Babushka acted as though all of this were perfectly normal.
“Hand over the phone.” Roman’s words were the sharp edges of ice and hard as stone.
Babushka made a face that, frankly, would’ve made the Queen of England jealous because of its regal nature. “I’m certain ven time is right, your phone vill be found.”
Babushka didn’t seem like the type to get caught. She was the type that perpetually got away with offenses.
Hands on his hips, Roman stared his grandmother down.
She stared right back.
“You can use my phone,” Sadie suggested. She handed it over.
Roman made the call. There was a lot of grumpy silence followed by “mmhmmm” and “okay, sure.”
He handed Sadie back her cell. “They’ll be here in four hours.”
“Where do you need to go, Rome?” Sadie asked. “I can take you there. We’ll sort out the tire issue tomorrow. I know a guy. I’m sure he’ll help.”
Babushka seemed utterly disinterested in Roman’s predicament, instead making kissy faces at Lothario.
Roman finally looked away from the ceiling to Sadie. “I need to go somewhere there is alcohol and no family.”
Sadie could make that happen.
“You’re sure you’re good staying with Lothario?” Sadie asked Babushka.
The dog was perfectly capable of spending a night alone, but Sadie didn’t feel comfortable with that option at the moment—what with all the stress of the night and the changes he was about to go through with the baby coming home.
Babushka grinned a huge smile. “Of course. You kids go and have good time on your date.”
“We’re going to discuss this later.” Roman was not pleased, to say the least.
Babushka apparently was done with him and pretended not to hear.
“I think you two need a break from each other.” Sadie slipped on her shoes. “Let’s go find someplace you can unwind and forget about your tires.”
“Perfect,” Roman said, his deep voice going an octave lower.
Sadie ignored the way her insides thrummed at Roman’s voice, grabbed her handbag, and started for the door.
Roman pointed toward his grandmother. “We’re not done.”
He said the statement to his grandmother, but it felt a lot like it was also directed at Sadie.
And that was exactly what gave her heartburn.
Then her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
Eli.
Chapter Six
“Really, it’s fine.” Roman followed Sadie as she hurried down the polished tiled floor of the hospital entrance and pressed the button to the elevator. Louise was slung over his shoulder because he didn’t trust what his grandmother might do to her if he left her in his car. He wasn’t taking chances leaving her in Sadie’s ride, either.
“We can call you a car on my phone?” Sadie offered, rummaging through her handbag. “Or you can use my phone to call your brother or sister. That is, if they’re not part of the Babushka brigade. I could just call them, explain it all. That way it’s not weird. Or maybe it would be weirder if I did it? Maybe you should do it.”
God, he’d missed the internal debates she vocalized.
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
She frowned at him. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Trust me, you’re helping.” He wanted to touch her more than he wanted anything. His body practically pulled to her. “I’m just enjoying you. I forgot how much I missed listening to you argue with yourself.”
“I don’t argue with myself,” she said, but she didn’t look convinced.
“We all have our special gifts.” He adjusted the bag carrying Louise so it didn’t dig into his shoulder.
“Do you want me to call a rideshare for you?” Sadie asked.
Yes, she could do that. Except, he was actually enjoying spending time with her. Even if they were heading to the maternity ward. Anyway, he had no place to be that night and he was fairly sure that the Dvornakovs wouldn’t find him in the waiting room of Labor and Delivery at St. Luke’s.
He started to tell her just that when the elevator pinged and the doors slid open. Still digging in her purse, apparently having forgotten her line of questioning, Sadie hurried inside. She barely glanced up to ensure she didn’t run into anyone.
Luckily, the elevator was empty.
Roman followed. He pushed the button for the fourteenth floor. The elevator doors closed and the car started climbing.
“Got it,” she declared, yanking the iPhone free. “I’ll just call that car. But…” She traced her bottom lip with her teeth like she’d always done. Then she gave a hopeful look to the camera bag holding Louise. “You think since you brought Louise, she might be willing to take a few photo—” She swiped her thumb across the screen and gasped. “Oh my God.”
Her face went pale as she stared at whatever the hell was on the screen. The blood drained from her cheeks.
His body tuned into protective mode. Roman tapped down his raising heartbeat with techniques he used when photographing a particularly gnarly battlefield. “Sadie.”
Gravity was apparently heavier on her side of the elevator cab because she fell backward against the side.
Now he was officially flipped out. All the battlefield techniques weren’t going to work when Sadie had that look of shock on her face.
Then she grinned and did a fist pump in the air.
“Sadie?” Roman asked.
“He’s really here,” she said, not looking up. Excitement radiated from her pores.
“Sadie?” Roman asked again.
She lifted the screen so he could see.
A brand new, totally squished baby face filled the screen.
Sadie’s eyes misted, even as a perma-grin plastered to her lips. “I’m an aunt.”
Yes, she was. This was why they’d driven to the hospital in the first place, wasn’t it?
He studied the snapshot. Even squished, the kid was cute. Full shock of black hair, cute little nose, red cheeks.
“He’s a handsome guy.” Roman’s tone went gentle without him even trying.
Sadie’s jasmine-scented perfume wrapped around him, drawing him closer. Jasmine and happiness and the scent of a life he wanted so badly it pulsed through him.
Her pupils dilated when he stepped toward her. Her breath hitched. She was practically inviting him to kiss her. A girl in a relationship didn’t act like Sadie did around him. Didn’t run her thumb over his lower lip or lean into him like it was the most natural reaction.
He would’ve asked, too. But the elevator arrived at their floor and the doors slid open.
“I’m an aunt and Marlee had a baby,” she said, totally awestruck.
“That’s why we’re here, nohchnaya babachka.” Roman used the endearment from all those years ago. He didn’t kiss the crown of her head, but fuck, he wanted to. They needed some relationship status clarity before he went any further with her. “You’re going to be an awesome aunt.”
Sadie marched straight to the glass-paned windows surrounding the nurses’ station. She hit the button. She gave a quick explanation of who they were and why they were there, and the locked doors buzzed open.
A nurse met them at the other side.
“I can wait here,” Roman suggested.
Sadie shook her head and motioned for him to follow.
Right. Photos.
“Or not.” He strode behind her.
He shifted Louise against his shoulder again. “Sadie?”
“Uh-huh.” She kept marching after the nurse, not even glancing his way.
“I can’t follow you in that room without them knowing I’m here. It’d be weird.”
Sadie stopped at that, turning to look at him. “Oh right. Um…”
“If they want any pictures or anything of the kid, I can make that happen.” Yeah, taking pictures of his brother and the woman he loved at their wedding followed by pictures of a newborn? Despite the fact his tires were flat, and his phone was stolen by his grandmother, and Sadie might have a boyfriend, the night did not suck.
Sadie swiped at more tears and nodded. “Let me just ask them.”
Then she followed the nurse.
Roman loitered outside the room while Sadie went in to do the aunt thing.
“They’d love it if you’d take some pictures.” Sadie’s voice sliced through his thoughts a few minutes later.
He glanced up. “Yeah, okay.”
He pulled Louise from his bag and did a quick check and adjustment of her settings.
“Go on in, I’ll follow in a second. I want to get some candids. You won’t even know I’m there.”
Candids were his specialty. One would think that a guy with the bulk of Roman couldn’t blend into the background, but he’d perfected that art over the years.
Sadie went back inside.
Roman waited a few beats. It used to be that posed photos were a necessity when he came home, and his mom had always insisted he do a family photo shoot. He used to think they absolutely sucked the life out of the enjoyment of capturing a moment.
He had preferred the real kind.
The unexpected.
These days, the posed shoots offered the control he craved after the chaos of combat photography.
On that note, he carefully opened the door so it made no noise and quietly closed it behind him. He was so silent the three of them in the room—well, four if you counted the kid—had no idea he’d joined.
Do Me a Favor: A second chance, hilarious rom com! (Mile High Matched Book 4) Page 7