“It’s a bad idea because while he might be smart, witty, gorgeous and stellar in bed, the guys at work say he’s also a mobster.”

Frieda’s eyes got wide and the comprehension in them likely mirrored the same shock in Cassie’s own eyes when she’d figured out who Kir worked for. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“He’s like Alfonsi?”

“No. Alfonsi was the boss of his organization. Kir works directly for the boss of his family. A guy called Sergei Petrovyh.”

“And this Sergei guy is a jerk like Alfonsi, but Kir is a good guy?”

Such a straightforward, simple question. But for all the digging she’d done in recent months, she couldn’t corroborate the information she’d been given. “The truth is, I don’t know. Rumor has it Kir and Sergei moved here with another friend of theirs about a year and a half ago and that they’ve got deep Russian mafiya roots, but I can’t find one shred of evidence that ties them to organized crime. Honestly, I can’t even find a source that will say a single bad thing about either of them. I can’t tell if Sergei’s just got them too scared to talk, or the rumors are all wrong.”

“And you know this because you’ve been working on a story about them?”

“I wouldn’t say I was working on a story.”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“I don’t know. Considering a story? Maybe?”

Aunt Frieda stared down at her, an eyebrow cocked high and one side of her mouth screwed up in a rare show of consternation. No doubt, that agile mind of hers was going warp speed and closing in on the very thing that had stuck in Cassie’s craw for months. “So, basically, you thought this guy had the potential to be the one, but he’s got a mobster label on him, so you cut him off.”

“Right.”

“Now, half a year later, your boss is nagging you to pick up the pace on some new stories, so you’ve started digging hoping you’ll find some juicy story, but you can’t. You feel like shit because you actually thought about crossing this Kir fella when he not only helped you out, but is still ringing your bell.”

Cassie slunk a little deeper in her chair, hung her head and fiddled with her phone. “The whole scenario didn’t sound that bad when it was stalking around in my head.”

“It never does. And the truth is, you might have been smart to dodge this guy. Just because you haven’t proven the rumors, doesn’t mean they aren’t true. Nothing wrong with being cautious.” Frieda’s voice softened and she stepped a little closer. “But I’ve never known you to be the type to undercut someone who helped you out.”

Engaging her phone, Cassie thumbed up her email account. “Easy for you to say. My editor hits me up nearly every day for what I’m working on next. If I don’t come up with something soon, they might give my weekend anchor slot to someone else. It took me two years to nail that seat.”