Brek flashed a toddler-esque grin. “True.”
“What do you guys want anyway?” Roman asked, focusing on sorting the images into various folders to send to the client.
“We came to either give you shit advice or watch you brood. We have multiple options available for all men diving into relationships.”
“First, I think we have a family issue to deal with.” Roman ran his palm over his forehead.
“We always have family issues to deal with.” Jase pushed up and stood.
Roman fiddled with the mouse in his hand. “I asked Babushka to help me woo Sadie.”
“Woo?” Brek asked. “Seriously? Do people actually use that word?” He paused for apparent dramatic effect. “In this century?”
“Convince Sadie to fall for me—like Babushka did for Jase and Heather.”
“I know what it means. I just didn’t know people still used it or that you’re such a romantic that you use words like ‘woo.’ You should catch up with my wife. She loves old TV shows that use words like that—woo, twitterpated, fiddle faddle.”
Jase stopped pacing. “What the hell has Velma done to you?”
“She says I’m becoming cultured.”
“You buy into that?”
“Fuck no.”
“Can we refocus the attention in the room back where it belongs?” Roman pointed to his chest. “On me.”
Jase continued speaking as he carefully picked up one of the props Roman used for wedding shoots—a vase to hold the bride’s bouquet. “Fine. Tell me you didn’t ask our slightly insane grandmother to help you woo Sadie, because that would be totally insane.”
“He can’t help it. He’s twitterpated.” Brek grinned a wry smile. “I like big words.”
“You heard me, assholes,” Roman grumbled. “I think the whole thing has gone off the rails though. It looks like, in order to get closer to Sadie, Babushka is trying to figure out how to divorce our dead grandfather. When I asked questions, Sadie excused me from the conversation.”
Brek raised his eyebrows. “Huh.”
“Huh?” Roman asked.
“Looks like you really fucked up,” Brek continued.
“Did you really expect anything else?” Jase asked, picking up Louise. “She’s Babushka.”
“It’s the fuckin’ truth,” Brek added.
Yes, yes, he had expected Babushka to be a whole lot more planned with her endeavors.
“Don’t touch my camera.” They were free to give shit advice, but no one—and he meant no one—touched Louise.
“I have a feeling this whole thing is about to get totally fucked.” Brek eyed Jase as he set Louise back on the counter.
Roman clicked the mouse harder than necessary as he dragged and dropped. “I don’t think I’m at the fucked stage yet. I’m still just getting screwed.”
“Nope. Definitely fucked,” Brek said. “Fucked. Fucked. Fucked.”
“Ignore him. He’s not allowed to cuss at home, so he tries to get his quota when he’s with me,” Jase said.
“Seriously, though. Why would you sic your grandmother on Sadie?” Brek shifted like he’d been the victim of the siccing. “That shit’s just wrong.”
Jase started pacing again. “Because Roman is…” Jase paused, grabbed his phone, and squinted at the screen as his fingers flew over it. “Because Roman is fraught and distressed and distracted.” He grinned as though he’d hit jackpot. “It’s the only explanation.”
“Maybe I am a little fraught and distressed.” Roman drew out the last word. “I’m not distracted.”
Shit, he’d gotten distracted and dropped the image into the wrong folder. He scowled as he fixed his fuck-up.
Brek made a snort sound and shook his head. “I thought we were through with all this bullshit once Eli found Marlee. Not gonna lie, I was kinda sad. This is the fun part.”
“Fun for who?” Roman asked, frustration bubbling.
“Us.” Jase picked up the vase again and tossed it between his hands like a football. “This is gonna be more fun than usual.”
Roman leveled a stare at him.
“What’s up, fuckwads?” Zach tossed open the door and settled in on one of the chaise lounges Roman had set up. “What’d I miss?”
“Well.” Jase drew out the word. “I personally brought our brother three referrals for weddings in need of a photographer. Brek here is having liquor distribution issues so he’s avoiding them and hanging out with me and trying to get in his quota of fucks for the day so he can go home and talk about being twitterpated.” Then he pointed to Roman. “Rome here is having not-getting-laid issues so he enlisted Babushka to help him—because he’s a fucking moron.” He gestured around the room. “It’s just a great day to be alive. The sun is shining, birds are chirping—”
“It’s raining outside.” Zach pointed out the window. “I don’t think the birds are out.”
Jase glowered at Zach, still tossing the damn vase. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Roman said to Zach before he stood and headed for the minifridge he kept in the closet so Babushka wouldn’t see it and get pissed he wasn’t buying soda from her break room. He grabbed a beer for himself, held one out for Zach, tossed Brek a can, and ignored Jase because he could.
Brek snorted. “Never a dull moment with the Dvornakovs.”
“It’s the truth.” Zach fist-bumped Brek.
Jase paused while arranging some fake tulips into the vase and raised his own fist to get in on the action.
“You are both shit brothers, you know that?” Roman asked.
“You should call Anna. She’d love to help you with your project,” Zach mused.
“My project?”
“Anna totally buys into all the love bullshit. She’ll help you,” Zach confirmed.
There was no way he would be involving his sister in anything. One Dvornakov woman’s assistance was plenty.
“Can I be serious for a second?” Jase asked, still arranging the fake red tulips.
“Can you ever be serious?” Roman asked.
“Har,” Jase replied. “Seriously, though, is Sadie the one?”
Roman stared at the mouse cursor on his screen as it blinked at him. “Yeah.”
“Then you’re doing the right thing, man,” Brek said, the words deliberate.
“Babushka threw Heather and me together. It was not the most fun I’ve ever had, but it led to the best thing I’ve ever had.” Jase pointed the vase at Roman. “And that’s the fucking truth.”
Wow. Jase could do serious. Who knew?
“I’m into Sadie,” Roman confided.
“I got that,” Jase said. “I want to help you make it work with her.”
Maybe Roman’s baby brother could be an ally in all of this.
“How do I get in on this moment?” Zach stood from the lounge, holding his arms wide. “I wanna sign up for this program.”
“You’ve got to meet someone first.” Jase tossed a tulip at his face. “We all know that’s not happening anytime soon.”
“How do we know that?” Zach picked up the flower from where it had fallen on the floor.
“Because Babushka’s busy helping Roman fall in love,” Brek said, a smug smile taped to his lips.
Roman paused mid-gulp as the door to his studio pushed open.
Sadie. Sadie with a red face and an expression that would freeze rain into Colorado snow on sight.
“Good, there are multiple Dvornakovs present. I need one of you to come and remove your grandmother from my office.” She paused before adding, “Please.”
“And here we go.” Zach sat back down and tossed his booted feet over the edge of the lounge, totally lounging.
“What’d she do this time?” Jase asked, innocent like they hadn’t just been discussing the situation.
“She’s decided she’s my new receptionist,” Sadie huffed.
Brek snorted.
Roman tapped down the grin he felt. Maybe Babushka
did have more of a plan for all of this after all.
“That’s Roman’s fault.” Jase pointed a fake tulip straight at Roman.
Roman swatted it away.
“She’d probably be really good at the receptionist thing,” Zach said. “People love her.”
“I don’t want her to be my new receptionist, but she won’t leave. And she’s answering my phones.” Sadie said it like this was not what she wanted in a receptionist. “And pimping me out to potential clients.”
“That’s a bad thing?” Roman asked.
“Have you met your grandmother?” Sadie’s eyes bugged out. “She’s offering them services that are decidedly not legal.”
Well, shit. Yeah, that was probably a very bad thing. Also, not at all helpful in his personal quest. He’d need to discuss that with his grandmother.
“I thought Babushka was working with you.” Jase scowled toward Rome.
“She was,” Roman replied. “I guess that’s changed in the past thirty minutes.”
“I thought she was working with Heather at the cookie shop?” Zach asked.
“She quit.” Jase shrugged. “Said Roman needed her more. But she left her recipes with Heather, so all is well on that front.”
“Call my office,” Sadie said, already punching numbers into her cell. She handed it to Roman.
“Your office is just down the hall.” Roman pointed out. “We could just go down there.”
Sadie shoved the phone toward him again. “You have to hear this.”
“She’s going to know it’s your phone. Caller ID?” Roman said.
“My number is unlisted.” Sadie pinched her lips.
“Ah.” Roman kicked back while the phone rang.
“Sadie’s office,” his grandmother said on the other end of the line.
“It’s supposed to be ‘Law Office of Sadie Howard.’ Not ‘Sadie’s office.’” Sadie waved her hands like that would help the situation. “That’s not how she says it though. Is it?”
Roman shook his head.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Zach asked.
“No.” Clearly, by the way Sadie said the word, this was important to her. If it was important to her, then it was important to him.
“Hey, Babushka.” Roman couldn’t help it. He grinned.
“Roman,” Babushka replied, excitement in her voice. “You called for Sadie. She is not here. She’s out vith a man.” The last part was said low. “Very handsome. Good hair. Beard. Very manly.”
Roman glanced to where Sadie stood with her arms crossed, pissed as all get-out.
“Sadie’s here with me, Babushka.”
“Vonderful,” Babushka chirped like she hadn’t just been caught mid-lie. “Ask her over tonight for pirozhki.”
Roman held the cell away from his mouth. “She wants to know if you’ll have dinner with the family.”
Sadie tossed her hands in the air. “I already told her I have plans with a frozen microwave dinner.”
That didn’t sound fun at all.
“Seriously?” he asked. “Pirozhki is a huge upgrade from frozen whatever-you’re-having.”
“It’s true,” Brek added. “Babushka does good grub.”
“She switches out the milk for vodka in all her recipes,” Zach added. “It totally makes dinner with my family pretty awesome. You should try her mashed potatoes.”
Sadie made a gah sound.
“Hold tight, Babushka. Sadie is considering your offer of cooking for her,” Roman said into Sadie’s cell.
“I am not.” Sadie shoved her hands into her hair.
“I don’t think you understand how Dvornakovs work.” Brek leaned forward conspiratorially.
“Nope, definitely not.” Jase nodded along. “Thanks to dumbass here, she’s going to need a crash course in Russian grandmothering.”
“I have no idea what any of this means.”
Roman couldn’t help it. The fire in Sadie was back and, yeah, it was pissed-off fire. But there was that kindling again. He was onto something.
“Tit for tat,” Brek replied. “They want you to come to dinner. Ask for whatever you want in return. It’s how they operate.”
The light dawned on Sadie as she turned toward Roman. “Will she stop answering my phone?”
“Now she’s getting it.” Jase sounded oh so very proud.
“Sadie wants to know if you’ll stop answering her phone if she comes to dinner?” Roman asked.
“Then who vill answer?” Babushka asked. “There is no von else here.”
Roman pulled the cell away from his ear again. “She wants to know who will answer the phone?”
Sadie closed her eyes. “It’s like I’m arguing with the doorknob.”
Roman knew the feeling. He’d lived in the same universe as his babushka all his life.
“You want my advice?” Jase asked.
“No,” Roman and Sadie said in unison.
“I am vorking. Vhat do you want?” Babushka sounded a touch annoyed.
“If Sadie agrees to dinner, will you stop answering her phone?” Roman made the mess, so he’d have to help sort it out—pick up all the junk and separate it into the right bins.
“Of course, she is boss. I vill do as she asks,” Babushka said. “If I do this thing, vill you do photos for her? Vat you call the shot in the head?”
“Headshot?” Roman did a slow blink.
“Yes, that. Ve need photo for the vall vhere customers vait.”
Roman held the phone away from his ear and covered the mouthpiece with his thumb. “Will you come to dinner if she stops answering your phone? I’ll throw in a free session for headshots.”
Sadie’s left eyelid was twitching. He definitely owed her a gift certificate for a massage when this was all said and done. “Maybe.”
“Then she’ll stop answering your phone.”
He’d see to it.
Chapter Fourteen
“Is there a specialist who can come and do an evaluation?” Sadie asked, speaking through the Bluetooth speaker in her Camry. She’d already pulled to a stop outside of the Dvornakov home—Roman’s parents’ house—when Tonya had called with an urgent sea creature situation.
“They said they’d send someone. He’s just so not himself,” Tonya said. “Can you ask Rex’s attorney to ask Rex to diffuse some lavender essential oil while he’s here? It’ll calm everyone down.”
Sadie made a mental note to investigate whether or not fish did, in fact, have nostrils and the ability to smell. Just in case Rex balked at this one.
“I don’t see how I can leave tomorrow,” Tonya said.
Technically, Tonya had to leave, given it was Rex’s turn to stay at the house and care for the fish—including Roger, who had gotten lethargic as of late.
Sadie resisted the urge to drop her forehead to the steering wheel of her parked vehicle. “Do you want me to call Rex’s attorney and explain everything? We all have the same goal here.” For the fish to be well adjusted and settled during and after the divorce and for Sadie to enter into her Denver practice with a solid win under her belt.
“I can see how tonight goes.” Tonya’s voice got muffled as she shifted the receiver. “See if he perks up. But I think it might be best if I stay longer this week.”
As long as Rex went along with that, it’d be fine. However, Rex still contested every part of the divorce, so Sadie saw that the compromise would likely be cohabitation for the next couple of days if Tonya refused to leave.
According to Sadie’s research, there were thirty thousand species of fish and, clearly, Tonya and Rex had an entire saltwater tank filled with the neediest of those species.
“I’ll check in tomorrow and we can regroup then.” Sadie prayed that the hopeful tone she’d intended came through. “In the meantime, please call if there’s anything else I can help with.”
They disconnected and Sadie stepped out of her car.
Tonya’s case was proving to be bigger than Sadie could have ever guessed—
both in billing (man, she required a lot of long phone calls) and in Denver legal circles.
The squirrely attorney, David, had let it slip he was in the midst of an aquatic custody dispute with Sadie.
His implication was that she’d lose.
Which meant she’d win.
She’d get the case settled and tie the whole thing—fish tank and all—with a ribbon to cement her status as one of Denver’s best divorce attorneys.
The big leagues would welcome her and, once there, it wouldn’t take much for her to grow to a point where she could bring on some associate attorneys and really make a go of her law practice.
She pushed the lock button on the key fob, waiting as Roman pulled up to park behind her. He’d invited her to ride with him, but she’d elected to drive herself. Not because she was concerned about a fish emergency, per se, but because dinner with the Dvornakovs being on her evening agenda didn’t mean she was going to give up her transportation if she needed to bail.
A semblance of control in the situation seemed both reasonable and necessary.
After glancing at the imposing house at the end of the driveway in the posh neighborhood, Sadie shivered. Inside. Not outwardly. No one needed to know that dinner with Babushka and the rest of the Dvornakovs made her—
“Nervous?” Roman asked as he walked up next to her.
She slid her gaze to meet his from under her lashes. “Would you believe me if I said I’m not nervous?”
“Maybe.” He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip.
“I make it a point not to show nerves,” Sadie continued.
“Ever? Everyone gets nervous.” He looked remarkably unconvinced. “Why hide it?”
“Showing that kind of emotion is weakness. Unless it’s a situation where vulnerability is needed. In those cases, I make sure I have the appropriate amount of nervous energy.”
Roman’s expression—the way his eyes widened and his eyebrows dropped at the same time—was priceless. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They started up the driveway toward the front door. He seemed to slow down so that Sadie could keep up, but that wasn’t necessary. She could keep up with the best of them.
“Sometimes a little weakness is a good thing,” Roman mused.
Do Me a Favor: A second chance, hilarious rom com! (Mile High Matched Book 4) Page 15