“It’s a figure of speech, Dmitri.” Taube tossed an ice cube at him. “Let her have this one. It’s the first I got her to remember.”
Kitty’s eyes were wide with surprise. “You’re new to speaking English?”
“I’ve been speaking English for years,” Sofia confided. “But not the English you use.”
“Hence the curse words being all over the place.” Dmitri proceeded to clap his hands and more staff appeared and set out with, thankfully, palatable meals.
I’d had borscht a few times in my life and they were a few times too many.
This appetizer, however, consisted of a delicious smoked salmon terrine.
Sofia drew Kitty into a conversation about her shoes, and seeing as she’d relaxed, I nodded when a server came around for seconds.
With myhangerquenched and neither man coming out with their intentions, I became aware that Sofia, Taube, and Kitty had drifted onto newer topics and were busy laughing about some mishap of hers in a recent lecture—which had her move to Poughkeepsie making sense. The biochemistry program at Oakwood, the closest Ivy League school, was superlative.
Satisfied their focus remained elsewhere, I texted Rory under the table:
Me: Ilya Levin. Dmitri Turgenev. Any insights?
Studying the men, I noticed that Dmitri appeared at ease at one end of the table, his lips twitching as Sofia disparaged a professor in one of her classes for being a moron. Ilya, on the other hand, watched me.
I could feel his attention like fire ants crawling over my skin.
Could sense that he wanted something fromme.
Cursing Rory for not getting back to me with any intel on the guy, I waited until the sorbet course to state, “I’m disappointed, Sofia.”
Head whipping to the side, she widened her eyes once she found me. “Why?!”
“Because I thought you invited me so we could meet in person. Instead, it seems as if I’m here on business.”
“It does seem like that, doesn’t it?” She pulled a face. “But?—”
“The timing is off,” Dmitri inserted on her behalf. “The moment I knew about the Summit, I pulled in a favor with Maxim. She’s wanted to make contact with you for a long time and she even requested it as a birthday gift. As for Ilya…” He huffed. “Ever since Sofia came to live in Poughkeepsie, he often lingers like a bad smell.”
A smile danced on Ilya’s lips. “I have to make sure my favorite person is well looked after.”
“Don’t tell Yseult I’m your favorite,” Sofia teased. “Or Graham. He’d cry like the snot he is.”
Ilya’s jaw tightened at the first name.
Yseult? Graham?
“Graham’s the biggest brat of them all.” Dmitri tsked, shooting me a pointed look.
Why did I feel like a coded message lay tucked within that statement?
“Gets it from his father,” Ilya agreed. “The Bracktons think they own the world, not just the US. Graham Jr. is the most annoying man in the West and that’s saying something, considering you have plenty of suitable candidates.”
“How do you know the Bracktons?” Kitty inquired, her voice hesitant—sensible considering our earlier conversation.
“Graham Sr. was my stepfather.”
Taube lifted her wineglass to him. “You’re welcome.”
His lips twitched. “My endless thanks for erasing him, Cin.”
“That’s why you’re in the States?” I pressed. “His funeral?”
