Cassie is dreading going out to dinner with Lydia and Pete. She’s hinted to Joel multiple times that Lydia is not her favorite person, but she suspects that’s part of the reason he set up the dinner. Pete is his best friend, and he wants them to all get along.

Fat chance. But fine, she’ll try.

Lydia picks the restaurant, which is a French place on the west side. Cassie has never eaten French food in her entire life. Unless French fries count, which she suspects they don’t. She takes a peek at the menu online and her heart skips a beat when she sees the prices. She can’t even pretend to offer to pay.

“Listen, Joel…” Cassie rubs her nose in the taxi on the way to the restaurant and sniffles loudly. “I’m feeling kind of sick. Maybe I shouldn’t go. I don’t want to infect them.”

He rolls his eyes. “Nice try, Cassie. Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

In response, Cassie tugs at her skirt. This one is black and falls below her knees, but she’s still worried it’s too short and Lydia will find a way to belittle her. Although even if she were wearing the perfect outfit, Lydia would still find a way.

The French restaurant is one of those hole-in-the-wall places that you might miss if you didn’t know exactly where it was. The cab deposits them right in front, and Cassie feels like a woman walking to her own execution as she heads to the door. It doesn’t even help when Joel takes her hand. Well, it helps a little.

Lydia and Pete are already sitting at a table in the back of the French restaurant when they arrive, although the place is so dark, it’s hard to tell. The lighting is mostly by candle—their table has three candles on it of varying heights. But Cassie is still able to see Lydia’s stunning light blue dress that perfectly complements her skin tone.

Pete offers a crooked smile as he rubs at his already messy dirty blond hair. The first two buttons on his shirt collar are undone, and Cassie suspects those two buttons are driving Lydia crazy. “Good to see you again, Cassie.”

Cassie wonders how Lydia lets him get out of the house like that without brushing his hair. “Hi, Pete,” she says. “Lydia.”

Lydia simply nods and takes a sip from her wine glass.

There’s already a bottle of wine on the table, ordered by Lydia prior to their arrival, and Cassie helps herself to a heaping glass. It’s the only

way she’ll make it through this evening. She picks up the menu to study it and finds the prices are even higher than they were on the online menu. She gasps at the dollar figure next to the steak.

“The foie gras mousse appetizer is supposed to be incredible here,” Lydia says as she eyes the menu with her sharp eyes. “We can get it for the table if you’d like.”

Foie gras? That sounds familiar, but Cassie isn’t entirely sure what it is. But she likes mousse, and she wants to be agreeable. “That sounds fine,” she says.

Lydia raises an eyebrow. “Do you like foie gras, Cassie?” Cassie squirms. “Yes…?”

A smile plays on Lydia’s lips. “What is it?”

A horrible silence descends on the table. Cassie has no clue what foie gras is. She can’t even begin to guess. It could be absolutely anything from a fruit to snails to some other mystery animal she’s never heard of that lives only in France. She eyes Joel, hoping he’ll save her by supplying the answer, but he’s looking at his own menu.

Fortunately, Pete breaks the silence. “It’s duck liver,” he says. “And

I think it’s disgusting.”

“That’s because you have unrefined taste,” Lydia sniffs. “Be nice, Lydia.”

Cassie is glad Lydia has redirected her snootiness in another direction, but it’s equally painful to listen to Lydia and Pete snipping at each other. They were going at it the whole time they were visiting Anna’s baby.

Cassie’s phone chirps with a text message from within her purse. She dares to sneak a peek at it, and sees a sympathetic message from Zoe, who had gotten an earful about this impending dinner at work this afternoon.

“It’s amazing,” Lydia comments, “how some people can’t go through even half a meal without looking at their cell phone.”

Cassie’s cheeks burn as she lifts her eyes from her purse. “I—I wasn’t…”

“Don’t mind me.” Lydia shrugs. “Attend to your business on your phone. Please.”

Oh God.

“By the way, Peter,” Lydia says. “Can you bring Violet to her lesson tomorrow? I’ve got to work late.”

He groans. “That kid goes to too many lessons. She’s only five!

What the hell has she got tomorrow?”

“Violin.”

Cassie stifles a laugh. “Violet plays the violin?”

Lydia lays down her menu to glare across the table. “What’s funny about that?”

“Well, because… her name kind of sounds like…” Cassie sputters.

Joel cracks a smile though, and Pete lets out an appreciative belly laugh. “It is funny,” Pete agrees. “Violet. Violin. Violet violin.”

Lydia whips her head around to glare at her husband this time. They haven’t even placed their orders yet, and this dinner has already become unbearably uncomfortable. Joel owes Cassie big time for dragging her here.

“The violin was a gift when Violet was born,” Lydia says. “A gift from Francesca.”

Francesca again. Is it possible to interact with Lydia without her bringing up Joel’s ex-girlfriend?

“Who gives a newborn baby a complex musical instrument?” Pete mutters under his breath. Cassie notices his words have gotten slightly slurred. She squints at the wine bottle and notices for the first time how close it is to being empty.

“It was the most thoughtful gift we received,” Lydia says, now addressing Cassie. “We got loads of onesies and toys, but this one was from the heart. You see, it used to be hers.”

Cassie tries to catch Joel’s eye, but he’s staring down at the dark blue tablecloth. “Oh,” she says.

“It was the violin that decided me,” Lydia says. “It’s because of that incredibly thoughtful present that we made Francesca Violet’s godmother.”

Francesca is Violet’s… what?