“I’m back!” Layla walked into the kitchen with Sam behind her. “Who needed the cayenne?”

“Over here.” Jana Auntie held out a hand. “I heard he likes his vindaloo extra hot.”

Vindaloo? Extra hot? Daisy’s skin prickled in warning.

“This is so exciting!” Mehar Auntie clapped her hands and spun around, almost knocking the box from Priya’s hands.

“Mehar! Go outside and dance with the girls,” Jana Auntie said. “They’re rampaging through the house. I think they might have broken the furniture in Daisy’s room. When I went in there to find them, everything was in pieces.” She gave Daisy a sympathetic look. “We’ll make sure it’s all fixed up for you. They must have been jumping on the bed. I can’t believe they would be so naughty.”

“It’s okay, Auntie-ji.” Daisy grimaced. “I was trying to redecorate, and it . . . all came apart.” She looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”

A smile spread across Priya’s face. “Out for coffee with your fiancé.”

“My fiancé?” Daisy’s knees trembled and she grabbed the counter. “What are you talking about?”

“Limb!” Salena Auntie pinched her cheeks. “Limb is coming to meet the family.”

* * *

• • •

LIAM trusted his instincts. Growing up with an abusive alcoholic meant that he had learned to read the subtle signs of impending danger. A tense phone call. A heavy footstep. A raised voice. He knew all the triggers, and he knew when to make himself scarce.

His instincts had screamed at him to make himself scarce before he’d walked into the small café around the corner from the Patels’ house. But one smile from the man who had been like a father to him, and he knew he’d made the right decision when he’d called Mr. Patel the previous day and asked for a chance to explain.

Mr. Patel stood to shake Liam’s hand. “I was glad to hear from you. I owe you an apology. My behavior at the hospital wasn’t good. I should have heard you out, but it was all such a shock.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Liam said. “I’m the one who was in the wrong. Daisy was on my motorcycle.”

“And you saved her.” Mr. Patel shook his head. “There will be no more talk about it.”

A waitress came to take their order, and they talked briefly about Mr. Patel’s trip to Belize and Liam’s work as a VC until they’d been served. Liam sipped his coffee, unsure how to begin.

Taking pity on him, Mr. Patel gave an encouraging nod. “So, you wanted to tell me what happened the night of the prom . . .”

Liam poured out his soul, telling Mr. Patel the full story about the accident and his decision to leave San Francisco. He left nothing out except Sanjay’s involvement. He’d made a promise, and that part of the story was Sanjay’s to tell.

He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d walked into the café, but tears, spilled coffee, and Mr. Patel jumping up to pull him out of his seat for a hug wasn’t it.

“Liam . . .” Mr. Patel choked on his words. “I knew you were a good boy. I knew you had an explanation. I won’t say I wasn’t hurt, or that my heart didn’t break for Daisy, but now I understand.” He pulled away, still holding Liam by the shoulders, his teary eyes intense. “What you did . . . the sacrifices you made . . . I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own son.”

Liam swallowed past the lump in his throat. Christ. Where were the damn napkins? Why had he agreed to meet Mr. Patel in such a public place?

While Mr. Patel apologized to the server who had come to mop up the table, Liam sank into his seat, grateful for the chance to gather his thoughts. Beyond his wildest dreams, he’d been offered forgiveness, sympathy, and understanding. He was worthy. It should have been enough. But there was one more thing he needed.

“Daisy told me all about your distillery problem, your fake engagement, and your dating plan.” Fully recovered from his emotional outburst, Mr. Patel wasted no time as soon as he was seated at the table with a fresh cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry.” Liam’s hand tightened around his cup. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I shouldn’t have asked her to—”

Mr. Patel cut him off with an abrupt wave of his hand. “The time for that is past. The question is, what are your intentions?”

“I love her,” Liam said quietly, grateful for the opportunity to discuss Daisy without having to bring it up himself. “I always have. I want to marry her, if she’ll have me. I want to spend my life trying to make her happy.” He caught his breath when Mr. Patel frowned. “If you approve . . .”

“Hmm.” Mr. Patel’s lips quivered at the corners. “You would have to meet the family.”

“Of course.”

“Lucky for you, I asked them all to get together at the house this evening.” He finished his coffee in one swallow and pushed out his chair. “Let’s see what they have to say.”

 Friday, 6:16 P.M.

 LIAM: Confirming Impromptu Date #7. Patel residence. Objectives: Beg Daisy’s forgiveness, meet Daisy’s family, eat delicious food.

Liam’s palms began to sweat as soon as Mr. Patel pushed open the front door. He needed to get a grip. He’d sat through meetings with some of the biggest venture capitalists and CEOs in the business. How bad could one family dinner be?

“I just got your text. What are you doing here?” Daisy accosted him in the hallway between piles of shoes. If she hadn’t been wearing a curve-hugging gray minidress printed with Marvel superheroes and a pair of naughty schoolgirl knee socks, he might have been able to give her a coherent response, but all he could do was stare. One week seemed like a lifetime, and he drank her down like he was dying of thirst.