He’d barely laid eyes on the lot of them when both women shrieked in unison and jumped back from whatever they were looking at.
His first instinct was to reach for the gun stowed beneath his suit jacket, but he checked the instinct as soon as Emerson’s delighted cackling registered. “What is going on?”
The abrupt question from an unexpected guest—particularly one of his size and in so gruff a tone—might have startled most people, but the trio merely noted his arrival and offered warm, welcoming smiles.
“Roman! You missed it!” Emerson stood, pushed his chair back with his knees and waved Roman closer. “I’m making a volcano for my science project and it just exploded.”
Halting behind Emerson and Evette, he peered over their heads.
Indeed, there had been an eruption. One that had exploded from a muddy mound and reeked of soap and vinegar. “It looks very...messy.”
Both women shot him wry looks, the likes of which expressed their humor at his lacking word choice.
Emerson didn’t care. Just started wiping up the excess threatening to make its way off the thick cardboard base and onto the table’s gleaming surface. “Being messy is the best part.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Evette said, handing over a fresh wad of paper towels. “I’m pretty sure your daddy paid three fortunes for this table, and I’m not gonna be the one that tells him we have to have it refinished.”
“Ha!” Cassie was already engaged and doing her part to contain the red lava oozing in all directions. “Like Sergei would care. He’d be more inclined to double down and see if he could make a volcano twice as big.”
She wasn’t wrong. Emerson might be Sergei’s son through circumstance and subsequent adoption only, but one would never know it by the way he doted on the almost nine-year-old. “And why are you making a volcano, moy zaychik?”
Emerson wrinkled his nose at the endearment. “I’m not a rabbit. And it’s my science project. I have to turn it in on Friday, but wanted to practice once before school.”
Roman refused to debate the rabbit part. Anyone who’d seen how somber and serious the child had been when he’d first come into their life would not only agree, but also celebrate Emerson’s liveliness now. “An educational endeavor.” He nodded to Cassie and Evette and backed away. “I believe you’re correct. Sergei will demand a chance to demonstrate his support of higher learning.”
“And there’s my reason for getting this cleaned up before he and Kir get home from Houston!” Evette grabbed the roll of paper towels and glanced at Roman. “Have you heard from them since they landed?”
Roman nodded. “Just before they went into their meeting. Assuming negotiations stay on track, they should make their six o’clock fight with no issues.”
From the side of the room, a cell phone rang, the muted sound coming from the purse perched on the elaborate buffet table.
“Oh!” Cassie said, wiping her hands and hustling toward the buffet. “Maybe that’s Kir.”
Roman hoped it was. While the concrete company merger between Sergei’s Louisiana holdings and the Texas company would mean more income for the family as a whole, keeping up with local ventures alone had Roman working double his normal hours. If he wanted to have time to visit St. Patrick’s before dark, he’d need to get a move on. He looked to Evette and lowered his voice so as not to interrupt Cassie’s conversation. “I’m dropping today’s receipts on Sergei’s desk. Do you need anything before I go?”
Before she could answer, Cassie’s sharp voice cut across the room, drawing everyone’s attention. “Whoa-whoa-whoa.” She shook her head and stared at the floor. “Back up and say that again a little slower.”
Instincts honed on the streets of Russia flared in an instant, a heightened prickling against his skin and muscles poised for action. Evette and Emerson ceased their cleaning and narrowed their attention on Cassie as well.
It couldn’t be Kir on the phone. His long-time brother-in-arms was as calm and collected as they came. Particularly when speaking with his bride.
The frown on Cassie’s face deepened. “You’re sure they’re gone?” Her eyes widened and her body got straight and stiff. “Are you okay?”
Emerson looked to Evette.
Evette looked to Roman. “What’s going on?”
Roman didn’t know, but he was damned sure going to find out.
“Okay. Okay. Hang on.” Cassie dug in her purse and pulled out a small notepad. “Give me the address again.” She pulled the lid off her pen and tossed it onto the buffet. “4738 Clouet Street?” A pause. “Okay, give me about twenty. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Oh, no she wouldn’t. Roman knew which parish Clouet Street was in and hell would freeze over before he let his brother’s bride anywhere near it.
Cassie punched the end button on her screen, threw her phone in her purse and hung it on her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to her avid audience. “Hey, guys. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
Roman was in her path before she could take three strides toward the kitchen. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She tried to go around him.
He side-stepped and blocked her again.
“Would you stop it!” she said. “I need to help a friend.”
“Your friend lives in Desire. You’re not going anywhere near that neighborhood.”
Cassie’s head snapped back. “Says who?”
“Says me. And your husband. And your vor.”
“Oh, boy,” Evette murmured. She cleared her throat and tapped Emerson on the shoulder. “Kiddo, how about you run upstairs and wash that clay off your hands. Momma needs a minute to talk sense into your aunt and uncle.”
Emerson eyed Roman and Cassie with a mix of mirth and concern, but clearly wasn’t about to argue with his mother because he gave up his chair and headed toward the stairs, wiping his hands on a towel along the way. Just before he ducked out of sight, he paused and offered, “Don’t be too mad at him, Cassie. Uncle Kir wouldn’t like it if you went somewhere bad while he’s gone.”
Uncle Kir wouldn’t like it if she even thought about going to Desire alone, whether he was in town or not.
“Go,” Evette said with a wave of her hand. “And try not to get mud everywhere.” Not waiting for her son to hit the stairs, Evie faced Cassie. “Now, back everything up and tell me who this friend is.”
“Not you, too,” Cassie said.
“Oh, yeah,” Evie fired back. “Definitely me. Maybe once upon a time I’d have thumbed my nose at caution and gone wherever I wanted, but I learned firsthand how my ties to Sergei can be used against him. You’re in the same spot with Kir. That means you gotta think before you act.”