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“You know that at least one of them did,” Neil said. While his tone was conversational, I knew every possible tone of his voice and how it correlated to which emotion. The reply was terse and defensive, though I doubted either of our guests would notice.

“So, is your granddaughter here?” Susan asked, shifting topics.

“No, Olivia is with her grandmother.” Neil paused. “I suppose you’ve read all about her, too?”

“Hey!” I laughed. “I didn’t make Valerie out to be that bad.”

“I admired the fact that you could sound as objective as you did,” Susan said, genuine kindness in her voice. Then, to Neil, “And I’m glad you came through your cancer okay. And the transplant.”

The word electrified the air between us. That was the whole reason she was here. Not because she wanted to get to know me. At least, not aside from what she’d read in my books.

Thankfully, the caterer stepped into the room. “Mr. Elwood? We can serve at any time. Just let us know when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” He stood, as eager to escape the moment as I was. “I think we’re ready, now.”

Susan and Travis followed us to the dining room.

“Oh my god, there really is a tree on your table,” she said, her jaw dropping in an expression so similar to one of mine that it took me aback.

“Y-yeah, I think they heard that people from Michigan were coming, and they were like, ‘Quick, what’s the state flower? We have to make them feel welcome!’” I was so relieved they laughed at my joke.

“Where should we…” she asked, gesturing toward the table.

“Oh, either side is fine,” I said with a wave of my hand. Like this was all super casual, when we were about to be served dinner by hired staff in our home. We both sat across from Travis and Susan, and I immediately found myself apologizing. “I’m sorry, we don’t usually have people waiting on us in our house. I just didn’t want to be stuck in the kitchen cooking.”

“You wouldn’t have been, darling.” Neil winked at me, then explained to them, “I do most of the cooking.”

“I thought you guys would have had this enormous mansion and servants and stuff,” Travis joked.

“Well, they do have, don’t you?” Susan asked. “I remember that part in your book. It’s in London?”

“No, there’s a townhouse in London. The manor house is in Somerset,” Neil answered automatically.

I resisted the urge to knee him under the table.

“And this is our home when we’re in the city,” he went on. “But we have a house in the Hamptons where we usually stay.”

“I’m not sure it technically counts as being in the Hamptons.” I didn’t knee him, but I did nudge him a little. “It’s in Sagaponack.”

Yeah, that made it all better.

“Wow. You really did well for yourself, Sophie,” Travis said.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Neil’s posture tighten up. I quickly grabbed his hand. “I really did. I never planned on having a husband or a family, but I ended up with a great one.”

There. I would just pretend Travis hadn’t been congratulating me for snagging a rich husband.

A uniformed waiter entered with soup, and we all sat far too silently as he served us. Neil thanked him when he was finished, and we were alone, again.

“Is this potato soup?” Travis asked after his first bite.

“Leek and potato,” Neil confirmed. He’d carefully planned the menu with the caterer, as determined to make the night a success as I was. It was the small amount of control he’d had over the situation.

And that was it. We’d run out of the things to talk about. And we’d only just been served the first course.

The silence was like a lead boot on a scuba diver, dragging us down deeper and deeper into an abyss of social despair.

Maybe we should have asked El-Mudad to come with us. He was way cooler than either of us. He could have come to our rescue.

Finally, Susan put down her spoon. “I was going to wait until after dinner, but I think we need to talk about the reason I’m here.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It feels wrong not having it out there.”

“Exactly.” She smiled gratefully.

“And there’s no reason we can’t have a nice, friendly dinner just because we’re talking about a serious subject,” I added quickly. I might as well have put a big flashing “PLEASE LOVE ME!” sign on my forehead.

But to my surprise, Susan’s smile grew even warmer. “Right, exactly. I think, earlier, I gave you the impression that I didn’t want to be around you or…”

“Or get to know me. That was the impression I got, yeah.” My voice sounded so small.

“I know how hurtful that was of me, and I’m sorry.” She looked down at her bowl. “I think that’s something we need to talk about privately, though. No offense to the guys.”

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