We get into the car, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. I’ve never felt lighter. My strained relationship with Destiny had been such a crushing weight on me ever since—

“Dominick,” I blurt out. “Do you think my sister caused my block? I mean, not blaming her, but the way our relationship soured, and—”

“Don’t read too much into it,” he says. “Besides, I’m out of that business. The only one I will be getting pregnant is you, and we know your block is cleared.”

I laugh. “You’re soo romantic. I guess that went about as well as it could have, right?”

He nods. “Only a few moments where I thought you might tear her throat out, but they passed quickly enough.”

“I wasn’t that mad,” I lie.

“Well,” he says, “Why don’t we keep going while we have so much momentum built up?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Call your parents, and tell them that I’d like to invite them and your sister and Dillon to dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” she asks, sounding suddenly nervous. “I don’t... they don’t even know there’s a Dominick!”

“So, tell them you’re seeing someone, and that the someone is named Dominick, and that Dominick wants to take the family out to dinner.”

“You make it sound so easy, in three simple steps like that, but it’s not that simple.”

“How so?” I ask.

“Well, the fact that I met you by hiring you. Also, the details of what the organization did are all over the news, so my parents will figure out…”

“The kinky sex stuff,” he says, grinning.

“God,” I whisper. “My parents are so vanilla, they’d never—”

“You’d be surprised,” Dominick interrupts. “Your parents have probably done some pretty kinky stuff in their day, hell, they might even still do it all the time. It’s not like they’d advertise it to you.”

“God,” I say loudly, and I put my hands over my ears. “Please, please, I don’t want that mental image. Spare me, Dominick.”

“Call them and get the dinner set up,” he says. “Or I might just try to paint you a more vivid picture.”

“Okay, okay, I’m calling!”

* * *

When I finish doing my makeup, I walk out of the bathroom of our hotel room and see Dominick wearing a suit.

“Uhh,” I mumble. “I was thinking more the Olive Garden.”

“Come on,” He says, adjusting his tie. “It’s the first time I’m meeting your family. I’m paying, and I want them to know you are important to me.”

I suck air through my teeth. “I didn’t bring anything fancy to wear.”

He opens up his suitcase and pulls out one of my nicer dresses. “I packed it in for you, just in case.”

I frown. I suddenly get a feeling that something is going on behind my back. I can see various gears in Dominick’s head turning, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t buy that he’d pack that dress in there “just in case,” and I don’t really understand why he’d have to make the dinner this fancy.

I take the dress from him and side-eye him skeptically. “You’re up to something.”

He gives a perfectly innocent, gorgeous smile, and holds his hands up as if I just accused him of murder.

I put the dress on and touch-up my makeup, and I come out to see him pacing. “You’re ready? Let’s go.”

He pulls up to the restaurant. It’s one of those “New American” places, the kind of cooking you’d see on something like Top Chef. I can tell just by the architecture of the building that it’s the kind of place where I could order something “deconstructed” and with a “foam emulsion.”

Dominick hands the keys to a valet, and he takes my hand, leading me toward the door.

He holds the door for me, and as I step into the lobby, I’m awestruck by how fancy everything is. There’s a floating pillar of flame in a glass tube, which is suspended from the ceiling. There’s a white piano in the corner, and a woman in a cocktail dress is playing some type of eclectic jazz fusion, singing in a raspy, folky voice.

I look up and see my parents, Destiny, and Dillion. All are dressed up nicer than I’ve ever seen them. Did they get the memo too?

Dominick walks up beside me and squares his shoulders toward my father. The two men look each other in the eye—my father looking up significantly to meet Dominick’s.

“Mr. Morningside,” Dominick says. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

He reaches a hand out, and the two men give each other a stiff handshake.

Destiny and Dillon wave, and I see my father’s face soften when we smile at each other. We must have smiled at each other before, after the big fight, but I realize that I’m really smiling now. I’ve forgiven Destiny, and it feels so good to have that weight off my chest.

Dominick and my father let go of each other’s hands, and he shakes my mom’s hand.

I see some kind of... something passing between them. It’s like Dominick already has a bond with my parents, but I don’t know how that could possibly be the case when they’ve never even met before. I must just be imagining things.

Everyone starts small talking with each other, and I sigh relief when neither of my parents mentions Dominick’s former job.

A waiter comes up and guides us to our table.

We are sat at a table with a black tablecloth topped with crisp white napkins, folded ornately like pieces of origami.

“This place sure is fancy,” my dad says, whistling.

“Dominick wanted to make a good first impression,” I say, grinning and holding his hand.

“It’s working,” my mom says.

“Let’s just hope the food is as good as the decor. I’ve heard it is... but you never know until you taste it yourself,” Dominick says.

My dad presses his elbows onto the table and leans forward. He looks at Dominick and says in a low voice, “If you can’t tell already, I’m kind of a meat and a potatoes guy.” He looks down at the menu, then back up at us, “I don’t have a clue what to order.”

“I’m thinking, I’ll just order for us. We can all get the same courses, and if you don’t like anything, it’s no big deal, because there will be plenty of courses to try.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dillon says. “I’m a buffet guy anyway.”

When I just ask the waiter for water, my parents give each other looks. They know Destiny is pregnant already, so when it’s just Destiny and I that don’t have a real drink, I feel like they are already suspicious, especially when they start looking at Dominick and then at me.

They know how and why we met now, which is embarrassing as hell, but I’m super thankful to them for not saying anything about it.

Dominick orders a bunch of different dishes, and the waiter starts bringing them out one by one, and I realize they are doing it as “courses,” meant to be eaten in a certain order.

Each new dish looks like a work of art. The appetizer is some of the most delicious bread I’ve ever tasted, with a brilliant, emerald green mint sauce that I’d never have thought to combine with bread.

The second appetizer is a soup with saffron and truffles. It tastes incredibly light, but it’s bursting with flavor. Each flavor melts into the next, exploding into a brilliant burst on my tongue like carefully timed fireworks.

The main course is a king crab dish. The waiter tells us that they received a fresh shipment direct from Alaska. The plate looks like some kind of abstract painting, there is crab meat, streaks of brightly colored sauces, seared scallops, and lemon zest. I slide pieces of meat across the different sauces, and every bite tastes fresh and exciting.

“This is incredible,” my Dad says. “I think I’m not a meat and potatoes guy anymore. I’m... whatever the hell this is.”

By the time dessert comes, I can’t even eat anymore. I’m done.

“Come on,” Dominick says, elbowing me.

“Too full,” I say. “I don’t want to ruin the experience by stuffing myself.”

The dessert looks incredible. It’s ice cream and pastry on a bed of dry ice. There are brightly colored macarons—pink and green and yellow—pressed into the ice cream like a bouquet of flowers.  Each of our plates is releasing a pillar of smoke as the dry ice evaporates, keeping the dessert perfectly cold.

“Just try some,” my Dad says. “You’ll regret not even trying it, Maddie.”

I shake my head stubbornly, and Dillon and Destiny give each other worried looks. Destiny takes a spoonful and eats it. She makes a huge show of how delicious it is, then she looks me dead in the eye. “Maddie. Eat it.”

“Fine, just a bite.”

I slide my spoon into the ice cream, it’s soft as silk, and I get one of the little macarons onto my spoon. I bite into it, and it explodes with an almost sinfully rich flavor.

Wow. It is good. Maybe just two bites then.

Soon I realize I’m going to eat the whole thing, but as I slide my spoon in again, I feel it press against something hard and metallic.

“Huh?” I say, hitting the spoon and feeling the metal object slide around. I can’t actually see it through the fog of the dry ice.

I slide it off the plate and out of the smoke, and it lands on the black tablecloth. It’s covered in white frost from the dry ice, but it’s definitely a ring. With a big stone on it.

Suddenly all of the looks between my family and Dominick start to make sense. Dominick’s insistence on taking us out tonight clicks, and I realize with a burst of intensity and tears forming in my eyes that—

He’s down on one knee beside me, and he’s snatched the ring off the table. There’s still some ice cream on it, which melts in his hands, and I see the brilliant diamond on the ring as he holds it up for me.

“Madrigal,” he says. “Will you marry me?”

Destiny and mom squeal, and dad and Dillon try their best to not tear up. My dad doesn’t quite manage to hold all the tears back.

“Yes!” I shout too loudly.

I see all the other tables turned toward us already. A gorgeous guy like Dominick going down on one knee is going to turn all the heads anyway, so maybe I can shout “yes” as loudly as I want when he’s proposing to me.

“God, yes!” I say, even louder.

I jump out of my chair and fall down on my knees in front of Dominick. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face into his strong shoulder.

He finally starts to pry me off, and I look up at him with an embarrassing amount of tears.

“The ring, Maddie,” he says, grinning.

He takes my hand gently, and slides the ring onto my finger.