The next day, right after work, I rushed home to get ready for dinner with Josh’s family. After a sweep of gloss on my lips and a dab of blush on my cheeks, I changed into a floral dress and cardigan.

When I finished, I reached for Hawke’s phone in the bottom of my purse to check if he had called, but he hadn’t. I’d received a few random texts from him, telling me where he was, and in return, I’d texted him about parts of my day, taking pictures of what I had been baking.

The door buzzer broke me from my thoughts. I slipped on my jean jacket and checked my hair in the mirror hanging behind the door one last time, and then I opened the door.

“Hey,” Josh said. A nervous smile played on his lips.

I pressed my back flush against the wall to let him in, my eyes taking in his attire. He looked business casual in a cream polo shirt and slacks. His hair was parted to the side, which only accentuated his young features. He was Gap, J.Crew, Banana Republic. All of the above. You couldn’t take the yuppie out of the shoe salesman.

I tugged self-consciously at my skirt. “Am I underdressed?”

A dimple emerged on his cheek, subtle but noticeably there. “No. You look”—he paused, as though he were searching for the right word—“perfect.”

My ears warmed from the compliment and from the way his eyes scoured my face. “Thanks.” I slugged his shoulder in a friendly way. It was my go-to when Josh had me all flustered.

When we walked out of my apartment building, his newly waxed BMW was sitting against the curb. I could practically see my reflection; it was so shiny.

“Oh, you’re so fancy. I see we’re taking the Beemer today.”

He automatically reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers, our hands drawn together like bagels and cream cheese. After he opened the door, I slid into the car.

“If we could take public transportation to where I used to live, I would. It’s better than taking the car they bought me when I graduated. Another bribe gift.”

When we were on the highway, I started to sense his anxiety from the way he rubbed the back of his neck, the crease between his eyes, and the way he chewed on the corner of his mouth, as though it were his snack.

“Josh?”

He didn’t answer, seeming lost in thought, his eyes blankly staring at the cars in front of us.

“Josh,” I said louder.

He turned and blinked, finally breaking out of his daze. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I offered my hand, palm up, and he didn’t hesitate as he linked our fingers.

The strain in his shoulders relaxed at my touch. Funny how that worked—how a gentle touch calmed us both.

“You’ll be fine,” I soothed.

His eyes focused back on the road. “I only believe it because it’s coming from your mouth.”

The rest of the ride was silent, and my eyes widened, the farther we drove from the city. The houses seemed to morph into bigger and badder residences. I lowered my window, taking in the sights of the manicured lawns and the scent of the fresh air mixed with the newly cut grass.

Josh pulled down the long drive way and stopped at the front security station. Out of the miniature house by the gate came a guard, tall in stature and dressed in all black. He walked to our car and smiled. His teeth were the whitest teeth I’d ever seen, a contrast to his dark suit and bronze skin.

“Josh.” The guard’s eyes squinted, lighting up.

“My man, Stan.”

They did a unique handshake, and I couldn’t help but laugh at their interaction.

“You haven’t been home in months.”

Josh nodded, seeming a little sheepish. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

The guard peered into the car and gave me a small wave. “I see that. Is this your woman?”

“Nope.” Josh cupped one hand by his mouth and coughed out, “Not yet.”

I shook my head, but again, I laughed. Josh couldn’t help his charm. It was embedded in his DNA.

Stan placed his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “One of the most real and genuine guys you’ll ever meet.” Stan, the man—aka Josh’s wingman—stepped away and tapped the top of the car. “Josh, don’t be a stranger. Nice meeting you, young lady.”

The iron gate swung open, and my eyes took in the rolling meadows, green lawn, and the massive mansion in the horizon.

Josh’s eyes flickered toward my direction. I couldn’t do anything but blink, press my nose to the window, and take in the curved driveway bordered with lilies and roses. The flowers seemed to separate Josh’s parents’ house from the glitz and glam of the others. The driveway widened out and circled to a front entrance, an expansive entryway with dark wood double doors.

A sheepish grin touched his face. “This is actually a downgrade from our house in Manhattan.”

My eyebrows flew to the roof of the car.

“But I won’t let what I had frame who I want to be.” He let out a long breath. “Ready?” He shifted the car into park, stepped out, and opened my door.

He was so focused on the entrance, like the boogeyman was inside, that it made my stomach churn.

“It’s fine.” I bumped my shoulder against his. “They haven’t met Sammy, the Softy. She turns mean, grumpy old grandfathers into big, huggable teddy bears.” I smiled to ease the tension in the air, and it worked when I saw the corner of his mouth tick up.

“Sammy, the Softy? Really?”

It had been the first thing to pop into my mind. I shrugged. “Let’s go.”

At the door, he entered a code, and we stepped into the foyer. I heard laughter coming from somewhere inside.

I lifted my head, noting the high ceilings, chandelier, and crown molding that accented the room. A double staircase fanned in the front, leading to the second floor.

“Homies, I’m home,” Josh cooed playfully.

If it weren’t for the light sweat from his palm clasped against mine, I wouldn’t have even thought he was nervous.

I plastered a smile on my face, ready for the evil man. This situation had pushed out my protective side. Hardly anything rattled Josh, so the little that did had me on edge and ready to rumble. I mean, how bad could Grandpa be?

Josh’s dad, Albert Stanton III, entered the room. His friendly demeanor was that of what I remembered when I had seen him at the restaurant for Josh’s birthday. Casey and her boyfriend strolled in right next to Albert Stanton II, the grandfather.

His grayish hair was parted neatly to the side and had a little wave, just like Josh’s. But that was where the similarities ceased.

His grandfather’s stern eyes scanned me from the top of my head to the bottom of my non-designer shoes. The chill in his stare froze the blood pumping through my veins.

“Joshua.”

If you listened hard enough, you could hear the disappointment in his tone, as though Josh’s name should have been Albert Stanton IV.

“Grandfather.” Josh released my hand, approached him, and pulled him into a genuine Josh hug.

I tried to ignore the way his grandfather’s whole body stiffened, as though he weren’t accustomed to the physical contact.

Josh motioned for me to come over. “I’d like for you to meet Sam.”

“It’s great to meet you. I’m Al.” His firm hand took mine in a friendly shake, a contrast to his judgmental eyes. Then, he turned to Josh, dropping my hand. “Where’s Jennifer?”

Josh’s face blanched, his jaw tightened. His voice was tense as he said, “We broke up. You know this.” The chill in the air dropped to arctic cold.

If Josh had thought me coming along for this family dinner would lighten the mood, he’d been wrong. From Al’s face, I could tell I was subpar compared to Jennifer.

“Well, who’s hungry?” Casey slipped her arm through mine. “Sam, it’s great seeing you again. Let’s go to the dining area.”

I smiled graciously. She had a knack for shifting the awkwardness in the air.

She squeezed my arm and discreetly said, “Old G looks a bit hard at first, but deep down, he’s a big, fluffy panda.”

I glanced back at the older male, who had a permanent frown etched on his face. Panda? More likely a grizzly bear that would maul you when you turned your back.

“Robert, dear, have you met Josh’s Sam?” Casey motioned to the taller male.

Robert was the only one wearing a suit jacket, and I wondered if he had just strolled in from a work event. The crease in his pants only accented his height. His slicked-back hair and dark green eyes reminded me of a banker.

“Hi, I’m Josh’s friend.” I took his hand in mine and gave him a firm handshake.

Robert quirked an eyebrow and shared a knowing glance with Casey. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It was obvious that Josh had mentioned me to his sister. Taking in her secret smile, I wondered if he had divulged my life story.

“Friend, eh?” His face broke out into a smile. “That’s a first. In high school, girls fell at his feet.”

I frowned. “Oh, I thought he was with Jenny all through high school.”

“That didn’t stop other girls from trying.” Casey laughed as we entered the dining room.

A long chestnut dining table spanned the center of the room, surrounded by twelve chairs with exquisite carvings along the edges. The fine china plates on the table were outlined with a trim of gold and set with what looked like sterling silver flatware.

“Do you want a drink, Sam?” Casey tipped her head toward her brother and called out, “Hey, Joshy, take Sam with you to the wine cellar.”

When Josh’s eyes met mine, he threw me a thankful smile, all teeth. He held up a finger and excused himself from his father and grandfather. “I’m going to take Sam on a tour. I’ll be back.”

Al’s disapproving eyes were like laser beams focused on the middle of my forehead, but I ignored him.

Josh gestured with his chin toward the kitchen door, and I followed. After entering the kitchen through the double doors, my nose was bombarded with a glorious whiff of basil and paprika and also the scent of something sweet. I scanned the area, appreciating the stainless steel professional oven. An older woman was setting the food on the kitchen island. She had a head of gray hair that hung below her chin and a grin so wide, I could see all her teeth.

“Joshy!” She practically bum-rushed him.

He picked up the tiny lady and swung her around. “Nora, my favorite person in the world.”

She grabbed his face with her wrinkled hands, looking comically shorter than him as she held him. “Look at you. You’re getting handsomer every day.”

She pinched his cheeks, and Josh winced.

“Was there any doubt?” he said with a laugh.

When she released him, her eyes became fixed on mine, suddenly all-knowing. “So, you must be Sam.”

“I am.” I threw Joshy a sideways glance, wondering what he’d told this woman.

“I’m Nora.” She took my hand in hers, and the warmth radiated up my arm. She exuded peace and kindness and warmth. “She’s beautiful, Josh. Your description of her didn’t do her justice.”

I placed my hands on my hips. “So, what did Josh say about me?” I asked, my tone pinched and playful.

“Only the bad stuff,” he joked.

Her eyes crinkled at the sides. “He told me a few things. About how he met the most beautiful, sassiest girl by selling her shoes and how she’s the best cook in the world. At one time, I was the best cook in the world. Cooked for this boy since he was an infant. Now, he seems to have moved on.” Her eyes lit up with an inner glow.

Josh motioned between us. “It’s really a close tie.”

“Boy, don’t lie to your Nora.” She shook Josh’s arm. “This man right here is one of a kind. You’ll never find another like him.” She patted his heart. “Right here—this is what good men are made of.”

It was Josh’s turn to blush, and I laughed. It was fun, seeing him in the hot seat. We were a lot alike in where we didn’t take compliments well.

“I should know,” Nora said. “I raised this boy.”

He pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. Internally, I swooned at the sweet gesture.

“Yes, Mom and Nora were the best of friends. I’m sure she can tell you stories of when I wasn’t much of an angel, but we must get wine.” He pointed to the cellar in an exaggerated motion and slung an arm around my neck. “I only take the special girls to the cellar.” He winked. “Sometimes, they never make their way back.”

“Nice meeting you, Nora!” I yelled behind me as Josh tugged me toward the stairs.

The dark gray walls narrowed, the farther we descended.

Even though I knew Josh had been joking about not making my way back, my skin chilled at the drop in temperature. “Um, should I be afraid?”

His hand squeezed mine. “Remember? I’m your Prince Charming, white horse and all. I won’t let the boogeyman get you.”

We walked down a narrow hall and entered a massive wine cellar that would rival any restaurant. The soft purr of the cooling machine filled my ears, and I angled closer to Josh, feeling the cold in the cellar. Smooth racks of cherry wood were situated on the wall, holding endless bottles of wine. The low light overhead shone on the labels.

Jaw opened and in awe, I took in row upon row of bottles organized by date.

“So, what’re you thinking?” Josh asked, spreading his arms wide for me to pick.

“I’m not a wine connoisseur or anything. I’m sure you know more than me.”

“No, you’re the chef,” he encouraged.

“A pastry chef,” I corrected. “I know dessert wine, like what goes with cheesecake, custard fruit tarts, and apple pie. Other than that, I know nothing.”

Josh peered over my shoulder and pulled one out, holding the brown tag attached to the neck of the bottle. “Each one is sorted by the name of the wine, the vineyard it came from, its type, and the vintage.”

Impressive though I was clueless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled. “It’s all right. Just pick one, so I can drink the whole bottle to drown out the disappointment in my grandfather’s voice. He’s like a broken record.” His light expression suddenly slackened, and he ran a hand through his short dark hair.

It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. His grandfather wasn’t fair. Josh should be able to do what he wanted with his own life and future without feeling guilty about it.

“Pick one,” he said again, tapping his foot and giving me his impatient face.

“No.”

“Do it,” he insisted. He poked at my side. “Do it!”

I scrunched my nose before shutting my eyes. Josh was relentless when he wanted to be. One day, he’d make a brilliant lawyer, one that would make a difference.

“I never give in to peer pressure, but since you’re being a brat…eeny, meeny, miny, moe.” I plucked a bottle out. The tag said Monthélie 1er. cru Les Clous 2013, whatever that meant.

“Dinner is ready.” We heard from the top of the stairs. It was Casey.

I placed the bottle of wine in Josh’s hand. “If it sucks, you picked it.”

He shrugged. “I probably won’t remember a lot from this night. Not if I can help it.” He went silent for a moment. “Can we just hide out in here?”

I reached for his hand. “You brought me here as a buffer, so just know I’ll be buff-buff-buffing away. I won’t let him get another word in.”

He nodded, his eyes almost hopeful, and he swung our hands between us, leading us up the stairs.

It was like Thanksgiving dinner. Nora had prepared a feast with turkey, stuffing, and potatoes. It was as if I were at a five-star restaurant, being interviewed to see if I was good enough to hang out with a Stanton.

At the table, Josh was to the right of Al while Albert, Josh’s father, sat to the left.

Casey brought me into the conversation by asking about my career as a pastry chef.

“So, what restaurant do you work for?” Al asked.

I smiled. The judgmental look on his face could not be ignored, but it didn’t matter. I was proud of what I did. I loved what I did. And, if anything, I could say that I did it for myself and paid my own bills.

“I work at Sheldon’s Italia downtown.”

“Her crème brûlée is to die for,” Casey sighed. “Like, so good.”

“You haven’t tried her chocolate soufflé,” Josh added, his eyes brightening.

“So, do you plan on working there forever?” Al asked.

The lightness in the atmosphere evaporated like an industrialized vacuum had drawn in the cheerful atmosphere and expelled an awkwardness that had the mood shifting. When Josh’s jaw tensed, I placed my hand on his lap and squeezed his leg to placate him.

“No, sir, I don’t.”

“What’s your next step? Head chef?”

I gave him a gracious smile. “I’m currently applying to Le Cordon Bleu in Chicago, and, yes, I want to be the head pastry chef one day. Maybe head up my own restaurant.”

“Oh,” was all the old man could say.

But, from that one word, I could tell what he thought of my grand layout for my future.

“That’s my plan.”

“Isn’t Jennifer pre-med?” he asked, turning to Josh, as though I hadn’t even spoken.

Josh stood, making his chair fly back. The movement was so abrupt that I flinched, and so did Casey. The air thickened with discomfort, but being Samantha Clarke, I clenched my teeth through it.

“Dad, Casey”—Josh gave them each a curt nod— “I’ll see you next weekend.”

Al glanced around the room and gave a cynical laugh. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, playing innocent though there was no innocence in his eyes. His comment was meant to demean me.

I tugged at Josh’s shirt, hating the torment in his eyes and wanting him to sit. I’d come here to be the buffer, and I begged him with one look to calm down.

Josh’s jaw was set in stone, his eyes fixed with fury. “If you want to degrade me and what I want to do for a living, go ahead, but don’t be rude to my friend. She loves what she does, and by the way, she’s very talented. Most of all, she’s happy, but that’s something you don’t care about.”

“Josh,” I whispered, still tugging at the end of his shirt.

He extended his hand. “We’re leaving, Sam.”

One look in his eyes, and I knew he had already made up his mind.

I pushed my chair back as I stood. “Thanks for having me.”

As we headed to the door, Casey chased us, pleading with Josh to stay. Albert started arguing with Al. Robert tried to play the mediator between them. It didn’t sound cordial, more like a full-on war was happening.

Without releasing his hold on me, Josh kissed the top of Casey’s head. “Love you.”

“Josh, please.” Her eyes were pained and pleading and tired.

“I can’t.” He shook his head. “He’s just said too much. I tried, Case, but he’s a broken record. Nothing ever changes. I can’t take it anymore.”

She hugged him and kissed his cheek, understanding seeping into her eyes. “Okay.” Then, she turned and pulled me in. “I hope to see you again, Sam.”

“Joshua!”

Every part of Josh’s body stiffened.

When he didn’t turn, the tone in Al’s voice softened. “I just want to talk.”

Josh held my hand so tightly, I thought my fingers would break, but I squeezed his back just as firmly, letting him know I was right beside him and had his back. His eyes were hard when he turned to his grandfather.

“Joshua, I flew all this way to see you,” Al said gruffly. There it was again—the shameful undertone in Al’s words, as though Josh owed him something, anything, most likely everything.

Josh stayed silent, his eyes still troubled, mouth shut, shoulders tense.

“Ten minutes. You’re not even going to give your grandfather ten minutes of your time?”

The silence and their stare-down ticked on forever until Josh tipped his head in a curt nod.

I touched Josh’s arm with my free hand. “I’ll be in the foyer,” I whispered. “Go talk to him.”

His strained eyes met mine, the cold a contrast to his normally warm demeanor. I gave his hand one final squeeze before stepping away. I could still see them both down the hall.

Nora was at the front door with my jacket, her eyes downturned. “Never did like that grouchy old man.” She winked.

I was pretty sure Al and Nora were about the same age.

Then, I heard it.

Al’s infuriated voice boomed in the background. “What do you mean, no? What kind of money will you be making as a lawyer? I can guarantee, you will make a hundred times more at Stanton.”

Nora’s light hand touched my shoulder, her eyes squinting in anger. “Robert has already quit his job and is working for Stanton.”

Great. Now, Casey’s boyfriend was working for the family business? No wonder there was more pressure on Josh.

“Are they moving to New York?” From what I understood, Stanton Steel was headquartered in New York.

“Robert works out of their Chicago office. That’s where Albert works. But he has to travel to New York at least once a month. Who knows what will happen when the old man retires?”

The rumble in Al’s voice brought us to silence.

“This is our legacy. We built this from the ground up, and what? You’re going to let this company be led by a bunch of investors? Tell me why.”

“Because that’s not his passion,” Nora said, answering for Josh but only loud enough for me to hear. “Because Josh is like his mother and lets his passion lead his life, not money or power.”

When Josh remained quiet, his grandfather shouted, “This is bullshit!”

Josh remained still, taking it like the man that he was, but I cringed. I couldn’t stand watching this. I wanted to help him, but I knew getting in between them would only make things worse.

“You’re only taking this route, the lawyer route, because you know you’ll have access to your trust fund in a couple of years. Well, guess what? It’s not going to happen.” Al’s nostrils flared. “You’re going to walk out on this family when we need you? I’m retiring in less than five years. It takes years to groom the CEO. Your father has been in this business for longer than you’ve been born. You need to start now, but you’re telling me no. You’re telling me we put you through Yale for business, only for you to go to law school? You’re a disgrace to this family. A disappointment, damn it!”

Albert stepped between Al and his son, but it didn’t stop the nasty tone of the old man.

I gripped my stomach. Every word that put Josh down was like a punch to my gut. Harder and harder, until one more word would have me on the ground.

Nora’s eyes narrowed. Though she was short and a little round, I believed this woman could throw down, regardless of her age.

“I’m sorry,” Josh finally said, his voice strangled. “Grandfather, safe travels home.”

He turned and approached me, followed by his whole family. I hated the agony and anger and disconnect in his eyes.

His jacket was already in my arms, ready for him. I wanted out of here, but more than that, I wanted him out of here.

But his grandfather kept talking and talking and blabbing like his words mattered. “You walk out that door, boy, you have no more trust fund to depend on because that’s for the Stantons, which you are not! You hear me? You’re not getting a dime.”

Albert blocked Al’s path from moving forward. “Just go, Josh!” he said.

Josh couldn’t get out of the house fast enough, and I trailed behind him, down to the curved driveway, past his car, and away from the house, away from the chaos, away from the crazy old man.

“Josh!” I called out.

But he kept going and going until I rushed toward him and placed a consoling hand on his back.

“The worst part is”—a heavy sigh escaped him—“I hate being a disappointment to this family. Fuck…” He blew out a slow, jagged breath, one where it sounded like it hurt to breathe. “Fuck!” He kicked a planter on the edge of the driveway and knocked it over. After staring at it for a moment, he seemed to think better of it and began to pick up the dirt with his hands.

I reached down for him. “Stop, Josh. What are you doing?”

I tried to pull him up, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’m cleaning up my mess.” His voice quivered with pain and underlying anger.

My heart cracked at his sullen tone.

Sighing, I dropped to my knees and joined him, scooping up the dirt in my palms and dumping it back into the pot.

“Sam…what the hell?”

“I’m helping. We help clean up each other’s messes, right?” I smiled sweetly, as though picking up dirt in the middle of the night in front of this palatial mansion was the norm.

He swiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, sat cross-legged on the driveway and pulled me onto his lap, dirt and all. His head dropped to the crook of my neck where I felt his soft breaths leave his lips and touch my skin.

“I appreciate you so much. You know that, right?”

My fingers threaded through his soft dark brown locks as I held him against me, needing to comfort him, needing him to cheer up. “I’m pretty damn wonderful,” I said with a chuckle.

But then something wet touched my neck. I didn’t know if it was from leftover or fresh tears, but it sucker-punched me in the chest, and the crack in my heart broke into pieces, like shards of glass scattered on the floor. Heat formed behind my own eyes.

“I just want to hold you until this passes. Until I calm down.” He let out a few breaths, in and out. “I feel like the biggest jerk right now.”

When his body shook with tremors of guilt, I knew it was my mission to make the guilt go away because that was what I did. “Living your life doesn’t make you a jerk.”

He nodded against my neck, his warm breath blowing kisses against my skin.

“I know it doesn’t feel like that right now.” I rested my chin against his shoulder. “It will. In time, you’ll realize it was the right decision.”

I glanced out at the silent night and the twinkle of the stars above us. They were so calm and quiet, in opposition to the chaos happening in the house and in Josh’s life.

After five minutes, his breaths evened out, and he pulled back to search my face. “So, I’m officially broke now. You still want to be my friend?” There was a hint of humor behind his tone, despite the seriousness in his words.

I smiled because my joking Josh was slowly making an appearance. I’d missed that dude.

“I guess,” I said, feigning disappointment.

“Would now be a bad time to ask you if I could move in?”

I laughed. “Sure. You can sleep in Chloe’s room.”

He laughed, too.

Sitting on his lap felt so wrong and right at the same time. I loved consoling him, and the comfort of his touch brought a familiar warmth to the center of my chest. But we were just friends.

We stared at each other for a moment, and then I kissed him on the cheek. And, for the first time tonight, he smiled…this time for real.