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“It’s Rosie,” I say.

His eyes are light brown, like Brett’s, but the warmth isn’t there. I wonder if it was ever there.

“Rosie. Oh, nice.” He looks over at his wife.

“So, Rosie, where did you go to college?” Celia asks. “I wasn’t sure if it was Harvard, Yale, or Princeton.”

“Harvard, Yale, or Princeton?” I can’t stop myself from laughing. “What made you think I went to Harvard, Yale, or Princeton?”

“She didn’t go to an Ivy League school, Mother.”

“Oh. Stanford then.” Celia sniffs, and I look over at Brett.

He shakes his head. “Mother, Rosie didn’t go to college.”

“Oh.” Celia steps back and sniffs. “I see. Darling, did you tell Brett that Veronica is going to be here this weekend?”

“Not yet. I’ve only just seen him.” Tyson looks over at Brett. “Veronica Carnegie will be here this weekend. She’s on vacation.”

“Vacation from what?” Brett says. “She doesn’t work.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to, does she, dear?” Celia says with a sniff as she looks back over at me. “And pray, dear Rosie, what do you do?”

“I’m a waitress. I work at Mama’s Kitchen. It’s Dalton Leone’s restaurant. He’s Brett’s friend.”

“Dalton Leone? Who, pray tell, is that?”

“Now, now, let’s all go inside and have a drink,” Theodore says.

I swallow hard and look over at Brett. He gives me an apologetic look. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Normally, parents love me, but I’m definitely not of the class or echelon the Sellecks want. I watch Celia and Tyson make their way into the house with Theodore and Lena behind them.

“Don’t worry; you’ll love my sisters,” Brett says. “You okay? You still want to go through with this?”

“I’m doing it for you,” I say, nodding slowly. “But, boy, they’re tough.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

We make our way into the foyer, and my jaw drops once again. There are white marble floors throughout, and right in front of us is an impressive staircase leading to the second floor. To the right of the entrance is a long wooden table, and above it hangs a gold mirror.

“I’ve got you both on the third floor,” Theodore says. “You’ll be in the Roosevelt Suite.”

“Oh?” Brett looks surprised. “Both of us?”

“Well, yes, of course. You’re dating, aren’t you?”

“But I know you normally don’t let your grandchildren sleep in the same bedroom with their …”

“It’s the twenty-first century now, Brett. Of course you’ll share. This is the first time you’ve ever brought a girlfriend home. That means something.”

“Okay, well, thanks.” He turns to me. “I hope you’re okay with that.”

“Why wouldn’t I be, Brett?” I beam at him. “I love you so much. Of course I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”

My eyes shoot daggers at him because this was not the plan, and I hope things don’t go off track.

“Is Brett here?”

Two girls come running down the hallway. They look around my age, and they grin at me immediately. Both are beautiful, with long, dark hair.