“That’s a damned fine idea.” Axel shifted his focus to Kir. “We’ve got a show here in New Orleans in late September. Ye should bring the lass and let her work her magic.”

“Oh...” Cassie shook her head. “It’s just a hobby. I’m not a professional.”

“But you’re very good,” Kir stated firmly. “I saw the pictures you’ve hung in your home. When we met for coffee, the passion you felt for photography was evident, and you mentioned the first night I met you that you’d once wanted to pursue it as a career.”

“Of course, I did. When I was sixteen. But it’s not realistic.”

Lizzy barked out a sharp laugh. “Who cares what’s realistic? People told me I was stupid for slogging from one bar to another for years, but look at me now.”

Roman nodded, his gaze uncomfortably keen and locked on Cassie.

“Ye want something, ye just do it,” Axel said. “Anyone who tells ya different can bugger off.”

Seven people around the table.

All of them strangers but one.

And they’d shown more kindness and acceptance in little more than an hour than her own family had shown in years.

A slow burn fired along the bridge of her nose, and her gaze blurred. “Thank you.” She fixed her attention on the mostly empty plate in front of her, fought to keep her breathing steady and prayed the tears wouldn’t spill over. “It does sound like fun. I’ll definitely think about it.”

Her bottom lip quivered, and her lungs hitched. She leaned close to Kir and whispered. “Would you excuse me just a minute? I need to run to the restroom.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Just rose, nabbed her clutch and tried to nonchalantly navigate her tear-blurred way through the restaurant toward the restrooms at the front of the building.

It took a good five minutes hiding in a stall and focusing on nothing but slow steady inhalations before the threat of a full-on crying jag subsided. Another two or three before she trusted herself to step in front of the mirror and repair what she could of her makeup.

She’d been so wrong about these people. Kir was right. Somewhere along the way, she’d painted them all as dangerous, self-serving people who sat around figuring out ways to take advantage of others. The truth? They were kind. Personable. Fiercely loving and loyal to each other.

Behind her, the bathroom door opened.

Evette stepped through, scanned open stalls, then locked on to Cassie in front of the ornate vanities. “Oh, thank God.” She pressed a hand to her heart and strolled toward Cassie. “For a second or two, I was worried I was gonna have to come out of this bathroom without you and send Kir on a full-scale search.”

She rested one hip on the marble ledge and cocked her head. “You took off mighty quick out there. You okay?”

“Embarrassed more than anything.” Cassie jerked her head toward the dining room beyond. “You guys caught me a little off guard. Actually, everything tonight’s caught me off guard.” She shook her head and let out a shaky, ironic laugh. “Maybe I’m pre-menstrual, or something.”