“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.”
