Mr. Harper follows with his own hug, then steps back to make introductions. "And this must be the new man in Charlotte's life we've heard about."
I extend my hand, flashing my most charming smile. "Sebastian Montgomery. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
"Barbara and Douglas Harper," Mrs. Harper says warmly, shaking my hand. "And this is our son Ethan, and his fiancée, Olivia."
Ethan steps forward, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he shakes my hand. His grip is slightly too firm—a cheap power move that almost makes me laugh.
"Sebastian," he says, sizing me up. "Great to meet you. Charlie's been... mysterious about you."
"Has she?" I keep my tone light. "I'm an open book. Ask me anything."
Olivia offers a practiced smile. "So how did you two meet? Was it at work? E said that Charlie was always married to her job."
I feel Charlie tense beside me, but before she can respond, I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
"We are colleagues, yes," I confirm, "but our connection was instant. Hard to focus on marketing strategies when the most captivating woman I've ever seen is sitting across the conference table."
Charlie looks up at me, and for a moment, the surprise in her eyes is real. I continue, unable to stop myself.
"I spent three meetings straight just trying to work up the courage to ask her out. When I finally did, she turned me down." I grin, looking down at her with genuine affection. "Twice, actually."
This gets a laugh from the group, and Charlie's lips curve into a smile. "He was persistent," she adds, playing along. "Eventually, I figured anyone willing to face rejection that many times deserved at least one dinner."
"And the rest is history," I finish, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Ethan's expression tightens almost imperceptibly. "Well, that's... sweet."
Margaret claps her hands together. "Why don't we all move to the dining room? The food is getting cold, and we have so much catching up to do!"
As everyone moves toward the dining area, I hold Charlie back leaning down to whisper, "You okay?"
She nods slightly, then surprises me by turning her face up to mine. "Thank you," she whispers back, and then—in a move I wasn't expecting—she stretches up and brushes her lips against mine in a soft, brief kiss.
When she pulls back, there's a flicker of something in her eyes I can't quite read. "For the audience," she adds quietly.
"Right," I say, though I'm not sure anyone was even looking our way. "For the audience."
We follow the others into the dining room, where a long wooden table is being set with steaming dishes of sushi, sashimi, and other Japanese delicacies.
I pause as everyone settles around the table, placing a gentle hand on Charlie's elbow. "Wait—your shellfish allergy. Is this safe?" I keep my voice low, genuine concern overriding the performance we're putting on.
Charlie looks up at me, surprise flickering across her features. Her eyes soften, and I can see she hadn't expected me to remember that detail from our dinner planning session.
"It's okay," she whispers back, a small smile playing at her lips. "Mom always orders specific dishes for me—she has them make separate rolls without any shellfish. The chef knows our family well."
I nod, still hesitating. "You're sure? I just—" I run my hand through my hair, suddenly aware of how real my worry is. "I'd rather not spend our first night in Aspen in the ER."
Her smile widens, and she places her hand over mine. "I promise. Mom's been handling this since I was eight and had my first reaction." She squeezes my fingers lightly. "But... thank you for remembering."
There's warmth in her voice that wasn't there before, a crack in her carefully maintained wall. I guide her to our seats, hyper-aware of Ethan watching our exchange from across the table, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The table configuration forces us to sit across from Ethan and Olivia, giving me a front-row seat to their subtle dynamic. Charlie's shoulders remain tense, despite my occasional reassuring touch to her lower back.
"So, Sebastian," Ethan leans forward with a practiced casual air. "I hear you were in sports before marketing? Amateur stuff?"
I catch Emily's eye roll from down the table as I smile pleasantly. "Professional, actually. Snowboarding—X Games, Olympics, the works."
"Olympics?" Olivia's stenciled on eyebrows rise, her interest suddenly piqued. "That's impressive."
