Across the table, Roman chuckled.

Kir didn’t seem the least deterred by whatever was said. Merely cleared his throat and lifted his chin a notch. “Allow me to introduce Cassie McClintock. Cassie, this is Sergei Petrovyh.”

Sergei extended his hand. “Miss McClintock. We’re very happy to have you join us.”

Cassie took the hand he offered, his grip firm, yet not frighteningly so. “Please, just call me Cassie. Miss McClintock is way too formal for me.”

“You sound like my bride. Though, I must confess, I enjoy the formality now that she carries my surname.” Sergei motioned to the woman beside him. “Cassie, my wife, Evette.”

Before his introduction could fully die out, Evette was on her feet, her beautiful hazel eyes bright with excitement. “Girl, am I glad to meet you!” She wrapped Cassie up like she’d known her for years rather than seconds then stepped back and motioned to the open seats to her left. “I saved you both a spot so I can hear all about the girl that’s got Kir so kerfluffled.”

Kir? Kerfluffled?

Surely, they weren’t talking about the same guy. And what kind of mob wife used the word kerfluffled?

Evette motioned to the other people around the table, starting with the big guy in the chair next to Kir. With loose auburn hair to his shoulders, a big build and attire to rival Kir’s, he looked like a Scottish warlord turned fashion model. “This is Axel McKee, and next to him is his wife, Lizzy Hemming.”

“Oh my God!” She quickly shook hands with Axel and offered him an old-fashioned how-do-you-do, but the majority of her attention was on the brunette rockstar who rose to her feet beside him. For the last year, Lizzy Hemming had all but dominated the charts, her powerful voice and exceptional music casting a wide net for followers.

Cassie held out her hand. “I’m thrilled to meet you! I’m a huge fan.”

Lizzy accepted Cassie’s outstretched hand. “Glad to meet you, too. Always good to meet a fellow music lover.”

Keeping the introductions moving, Evette motioned to an older lady across the table. “This is Dorothy. I’ve known her as long as I’ve been alive. My momma worked at her diner in Mid-City when I was little.”

“Diner as in Dorothy’s Diner?” Cassie said. “That was one of the first places my aunt Frieda took me when I moved here. I had two helpings of blackberry cobbler and that was after I’d already gorged on pork chops and potato casserole.”

A proud smile curved Dorothy’s thin lips. Despite her gray hair and wrinkled face, there was an undeniable strength in her demeanor. “That’s the one, child. You and your auntie come visit again, this time you ask for me. We’ll get ya fixed up with something extra special.”

Evette waved at Roman next to Dorothy. “If you know Kir, I’m gonna guess you already know Roman.” Her gaze locked on the young boy next to Sergei and her smile deepened. “And this handsome boy is my son, Emerson.”