"And you!" She points at Christian. "That camera, it is too close to stove. You want fire? You want lawsuit? Move!"
Christian immediately adjusts the camera placement.
"Your grandmother is scary as hell," he mutters to me.
"She's protective."
"She just told Roman he whisks like an American."
"She's not wrong."
The next two hours are controlled chaos.
We film the main segments—Harper walking through the menu, demonstrating techniques, bantering with Roman and Christian while I handle prep work in the background like the world's most awkward sous chef.
Babushka provides color commentary that definitely won't make the final cut but keeps everyone entertained.
"Harper, you are too nice to the turkey! Be firm! Show dominance!"
"Babushka, I don't think turkey responds to dominance."
"Everything responds to dominance! This is why my Vitenka is successful! He dominates the boardroom!"
I close my eyes. "Please stop talking."
"I am helping!"
By the time we sit down to eat—cameras still rolling—my dining room looks like something out of a magazine spread.
The table seats twelve comfortably, but with just the six of us (Harper, me, Roman, Christian, Christian’s wife Lucia who arrived late, and Babushka), it feels intimate despite the size.
Harper sits at one end, I sit at the other, and everyone else fills in between.
The food is spectacular. The conversation flows. And for the first time in years, my home doesn't feel like a museum.
It feels lived in.
Roman raises his wine glass. "I'd like to propose a toast. To Victor, who finally learned that having friends over won't actually kill him."
"And to Harper," Christian adds, "for performing the miracle of making Victor Kade host a dinner party."
"It's not a miracle," I mutter. "It's strategic content creation."
"It's character growth," Roman insists. "And we're documenting it for posterity."
"You already said that."
"It bears repeating."
Harper is laughing, and Babushka is beaming, and even Lucia looks amused by the whole situation.
"You know," Christian says thoughtfully, setting down his fork with a soft clink, "I don't think I've ever been to this penthouse before. Actually, I'm not sure anyone has."
"That's not true. The housekeeper has been here."
"The housekeeper doesn't count," Roman says. "We're talking about social visits. People you actually want to see."
"I want to see the housekeeper. She keeps my home functioning."
