I smack his shoulder, scolding, “Get it to it. I’m dying here!”

It’s telling that I’m not worried he’s backing out. That thought never even enters my mind because I know we’re a team, but I am worried if whatever this is requires easing me into it.

“My mom called yesterday,” he says. He goes on to tell me about the gala and his mom wanting to invite my family. “I tried to tell her that there was no way it’d work. I knew you wouldn’t want the stress with everything we’re trying to get accomplished, but—”

“But it’s hard to tell your parents no,” I say, clenching my teeth. “I’m worried about getting our families getting together at all. But at a fancy charity event?”

“I know. I told Mom it wouldn’t be good for Papa’s health, so we could probably get a pass for him and maybe Nana, but we’re roped pretty hard into it.”

I growl. “I don’t want to be in any more paparazzi shots, and knowing our luck, there’s going to be some crazed Ross Andrews fan who reports every faux pas I make.”

We’ve managed to stay out of the society pages for the last few days, and I’d really like to keep it that way after the initial article that painted me so poorly, especially after the fresh burn of Colin echoing the same insult. It’s not that I care what he thinks at all, but I know he’s repeating the gossip about me and Ross that’s circulating through that entire crowd.

He reaches over, taking my hand. “If it helps, I’m right there with you. I try to avoid these galas and events because Mom does them all the time, and I spent years as her golden child show pony. She meant well, was just proud of me, but it only gets more awkward the older you get.”

“But we have to go?” I ask, wishing there were a way out of this.

His lips screw up, and he nods. “We do. Mom and Courtney tag-teamed to get me to agree on the phone, which means Dad definitely knows by now. If we don’t show up, I’m afraid it’ll raise red flags.”

I pale, knowing that’d be the kiss of death for us right now. Morgan doesn’t believe us already. Refusing to show our faces to his cronies would only demonstrate that he’s right to have doubts.

“Okay, so we’re stuck, but we’ll handle it. What about our families?” I shake my head. “Fuck, Ross. I really didn’t think about how our families are supposed to get along. I mean, your Mom and Dad are okay, but Papa and Morgan? Talk about polar opposites. Or Nana and Morgan? Though that one might be fun.”

Okay, it might be a little evil to take some sick joy in the thought of Nana verbally fileting Morgan to shreds, but I’m not going to admit that out loud.

“Those two? What about Nana and Mom?” he asks, both of us smiling at the image of Kimberly trying to converse with Nana or Aunt Sofia. Kimberly probably wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise. “Although I do think our mothers could get along decently. They used to be okay when Abi and you were going back and forth between houses. Maybe they can build on that?”

“So we’ve got one possible match and several landmines. What could go wrong?” I say, throwing my hands wide and scooting back under the covers. Maybe I can just hide out and not have to deal with any of this. That’d be okay, right?

Ross leans over me, searching my soul with his eyes. “So, we’re all in?”

I bite my lip but nod. “Okay . . . but I’m still worried. I want it on the record that I think this is a bad idea.”

He boops my nose, and I shake my head, refusing the tease. “Noted.”

*

“Mom?” I ask as soon as I hit my office, wanting to get this out of the way. “I’ve got good news.”

Okay, well good news isn’t quite the word I’d use for this, but dammit, I’m going to try and see this from Mom’s point of view.

“Hey, honey, I was just about to call you. What’s up?” Mom asks. Even as she asks, she sounds distracted, but I dive in to get this over with.

“There’s a charity event, and Mrs. Andrews was hoping to turn it into a family affair to give everyone a chance to meet before the wedding.”

“Really?” Mom asks before her voice fades and she yells from a distance, “Yes, Mama! I’m telling her now! I know I need to get to work!”

“What’s going on, Mom?” I ask, confused. She should be at work, but it sounds like she’s at Nana’s. Terror shoots through me. “Oh, God, is Papa okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, the old goat is fine. It’s just that . . .” she sighs, and I know she’s only half talking to me because I can hear her shuffling and moving around on her end of the line. “Three of your cousins are scheduled to arrive today. You know . . . Vanessa, Estella, and Marissa?”

“Which Marissa?” I ask, grinning. There are a lot of Ms in my family.

“The Triplets. They just finished their first year of college,” Mom replies. “Which is why I’m heading out now. Seems they found one of those last-minute ticket deals, so they’re coming in a few days early for the wedding. I don’t begrudge the tight budget and bargain hunting. Really, I’m just glad they can come, but . . .” her voice drops, and I wonder if Nana’s in the same room with her. “I’m glad they’re staying with Mama so I don’t have to listen to their constant singing.”