Seduce Me by Jo Leigh

heard this routine a thousand times.”
    He stared at her as the voices became almost operatic in their shouting. “The food must be fantastic here.”
    Natalie laughed, and it was as if the heaviness that had bowed her since his phone call had lifted. Okay, so maybe friend could be allowed back on the table. “It is. Both of them are incredible cooks. So are their wives, but to them it’s not life or death.”
    “So, can I order this infamous dish? What was it, chent?”
    “Cholent,” she repeated. “It’s a slow-cooked stew and, sorry, you can’t get it tonight. It’s only served on Thursday and Friday. Most people buy it by the quart. It’s actually not on the regular menu. However, I took the liberty of ordering dinner. A sampling of traditional dishes.”
    “Thanks, that sounds perfect,” he said, leaning forward, his hand on his water glass. “I’m just sorry it has to be a short night. I’ve got this cocktail party to go to. It’s a work thing. I’m up for a promotion at my firm, but since the last case was so successful, I’ve got some outside interest as well. So while it’s called a cocktail party, it’s actually an interview where you can get drunk during instead of after.”
    Although she was pleased his engagement at nine wasn’t a date, she didn’t want to show it. Instead she said, “I didn’t realize you weren’t happy at your firm.”
    “No, I am,” he said. “But it would be dumb not to explore what’s out there. The firm hosting tonight’s affair has a very high success rate and impressive clients who bring in really challenging cases.”
    She chuckled, although she didn’t envy him. “Wow. Big night.”
    “Yes.”
    “No wonder you look so dapper.”
    He rolled his eyes, but before he could comment, the kitchen door opened again and most of her family walked out, several of them carrying dishes. Zoya, who was nineteen, arrived at the table first with a bottle of the same red she’d brought them last time. “Be prepared,” she whispered quickly to Natalie. “Mama mentioned your friend was a lawyer.”
    Natalie winced. As the juggernaut of Ukrainians approached, with murder in their eyes and their English, she touched the back of Max’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “At any moment, feel free to run.”
    His right eyebrow rose as the first plate, with three different kinds of pierogi, was placed on the table. The second dish was borscht, the third, kasha varnishkes, and the fourth, fish in aspic. Basically, a buffet of starters.
    “You are attorney,” Uncle Victor said, loud enough for the people across the street to hear. “I want to hire you to sue the pants off my thief of a cousin. Tonight!”
    Max’s other eyebrow rose, and the look he gave Natalie was mostly one of surprise, with a little panic mixed in.

9
    M AX WASN ’ T SURE what to do. Natalie was into film—maybe this was some kind of cinema verité and there were hidden cameras behind the paintings. She’d warned him before that her family was nuts, but...
    “I actually don’t take personal cases,” he said, but he didn’t think anyone was listening. The other man, who looked a great deal like Natalie’s uncle Victor, was promising to hire his own attorney, and saying that he would end up owning both restaurants. Victor would have to explain to his children why he had made them poor and homeless because he was a recipe thief.
    Max leaned over the table, careful of his clothes. “I thought he was the brother-in-law.”
    “Also third cousin.” She huffed an impatient sigh and said, “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” forcefully enough that the men shut their mouths. Boy, she looked great with that fire in her eyes. “I’m here with a guest and you’re embarrassing me. I won’t tell you twice.” Her glare traveled from uncle to cousin to Aunt Hanna, then to several people in aprons. He knew some criminal lawyers who could take lessons.
    The straight back, the determined expression and the