“Well, it’s your band, remember? So really any song they play is ours.”

“So true.” Wearing heels makes me the perfect height to nuzzle against his neck. I unbutton the three buttons of his suit jacket and slide my hands inside to his back as we sway to the beat along with some other couples.

He starts making up ridiculous words to the song and singing them badly in my ear.

“You should grab a microphone. The band needs you.”

“What? You prefer the smooth voice of Tic?”

“Yes.”

He laughs. “Me, too.”

A woman’s voice cuts through our banter. “Hello again, Caymen.”

Xander stops and turns. “Mother.” He hugs her.

Then she surprises me with a hug of my own. Her hair is blond and styled. Her eyebrows are shaped to perfection, and she must get something injected into her skin to make it so smooth. “It’s good to see my son smiling so much. A smile looks good on him, don’t you think?”

“I call it his secret weapon.”

Xander furrows his brow. “You do?”

“Mostly in my head but sometimes behind your back.” I give Mrs. Spence a sideways glance. I’m being myself; hopefully she isn’t put off by sarcasm. She has a smile on her face so I think I’m safe.

Xander pulls me against his side. “Oh well, that explains a lot.”

“I just came by to say hello. I can’t stay, though. Someone has to run this event.” Then she trails a hand down my shoulder. “But let’s talk later, you and me. I’d love to get to know you better.”

I nod and smile even though I want to say, “That sounds like torture.”

As she leaves Xander takes my hand and pulls me close again, swaying with the music. “Now, not that I expect you to remember their names, but let me point out all of my family members.”

Not only does he start naming off a lot of people in the room, but he assigns a ridiculous short story to each. “And that,” he says, pointing across the room, “is my cousin Scarlett.”

“Ah, the doll.” I tilt my head. “Yes, she does look a lot like that doll.”

“Right?” He laughs, and it’s almost as if she knows we’re talking about her because not only does she see Xander, but she starts walking our way.

“Scarlett.”

She gives him a limp-looking handshake and then kisses the air by his cheek.

“This is Caymen.”

“Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I give Xander a sideways look. Does he talk about me all the time? And what is the appropriate response to that statement? “Sounds like Xander needs to get out more if I’m the topic of interest.”

Scarlett offers a smile about as wide as her doll counterpart and then squeezes Xander’s bicep. “Did you see who your brother brought tonight?”

“No, we haven’t been over there yet.” Xander cranes his neck, obviously trying to scope out his brother’s date.

“Don’t if you can avoid it. Major Cinderella complex.”

Xander laughs. “Seriously? Lucas?”

“It doesn’t surprise me with where he goes to school.” She curls her lip.

Has Xander not told anyone in his family that I’m poorer than dirt? But if he had wouldn’t he try to cover up what Scarlett just said instead of sounding like he agrees with it?

“Anyway, good to meet you, Caymen, but Bradley just walked in and I have to go.”

We watch her walk away, and I wait for him to smooth things over now that she’s gone. Maybe say his cousin is a total stuck-up snob (which she obviously is). But he doesn’t. He offers me his elbow and says, “Let’s go sit.”

He leads me straight toward Lucas and I say, “I thought Scarlett said we should avoid them.”

“We can’t avoid them all night. It’s assigned seating and I’m hungry.”

“Caymen,” Lucas says, standing and giving me a one-armed hug. “I didn’t think you were coming tonight. You thought you’d give boredom a try after all?”

“Yeah, well . . .” I don’t even know what to say. I’m still in shock from what Xander and Scarlett just said.

He gestures to a girl on his right. “This is Leah.” Leah doesn’t stand but smiles up at me.

“Good to meet you.”

Xander pulls out a chair for me and I sit numbly.

“Where’s Samuel?” Xander asks, looking around. There are two name cards left at the now two empty seats.

“He’s on his way.”

Samuel arrives less than five minutes later, and like when Lucas and Xander saw each other at the airport, Xander and Samuel hug like they haven’t seen each other in ages. Lucas joins in. Next Samuel introduces his date and we exchange pleasantries.

“Samuel,” Xander says, putting a hand on my lower back. “This is Caymen Meyers.”

“The Caymen Meyers?” He smiles big and I’m struck by how different each of the brothers looks. Xander definitely got his dad’s darker looks and the others look fairer, like their mom.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Samuel says.

“I’m sorry.”

We all sit down, and Samuel holds up his empty glass and gestures for a passing server who comes and fills it. “So, Caymen, you’re related to the Meyers of SCM Pharmacy?”

I start to say no, but Xander beats me. “Yes, they’re her grandparents. They’re on the guest list tonight.” He looks around. “They haven’t arrived yet, but as soon as they do I will force Caymen to introduce me.”

Samuel continues, “My dad has a lot of respect for your grandfather. He says any man who can turn a profit like that on mid-level stores must be a genius. I’d like to pick the brain of a shrewd businessman like him myself.”

I’m too stunned to think. Is this why Xander’s family has been perfectly fine with me? He’s been pretending I’m rich?

Chapter 36

“I don’t have grandparents.”

Lucas and Xander laugh then Lucas says, “She says things with such a straight face, how do you know when she’s joking or not, Xander?”

“She’s always joking.”

Samuel smiles and then says, “I hadn’t realized the Meyers had any relatives living around here until Xander told me.”

Xander nods. “I didn’t realize either, but Grammy told me.”

None of this made any sense. Mrs. Dalton must be confused. Why did she think I was related to these super rich Meyers people? Just because we had the same last name?

I swallow hard and scan the tables around us. Then I eye the door, watching the people coming in. In a way I had been joking about not having grandparents. I do have them, two sets. I just don’t know them. My mom’s parents disowned her when she got pregnant with me, and my dad’s parents paid her to keep her mouth shut. I have the shrewdest grandparents in existence. Meyers is my mother’s last name, but it is a common one. My mom can’t possibly be related to the SCM Pharmacy Meyers. It’s just a coincidence. I stare at Mrs. Dalton from across the room. The sweet Mrs. Dalton smiles at me.

Everyone at the table is looking at me, and I realize someone must’ve asked a question. A hand squeezes my knee and I jump. I look down and follow the path of the hand up to Xander’s shoulder and then to his concerned eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“No . . . yes . . . I just need to use the restroom.”

“It’s through those doors and to the right.” He stands and points then kisses my cheek. “Don’t escape out the window or anything. We’re just about to get to the super boring part. You won’t want to miss it.”

I try to laugh but nothing comes out. The bathroom is a welcome relief, and I shut myself into one of the stalls and try to wrap my brain around what just happened. Xander thinks I’m rich. He thinks I come from a rich family. This is why his dad had no problem with me once he found out my name and his brothers act like I am their equal. A sob escapes and I muffle it with my hand.

“Rich boys are stupid,” I say, forcing myself to get angry because I can’t afford to be hurt right now. I still have to get home with my dignity.

I start to leave the bathroom and almost get a door to the nose when it flies open so fast I’m barely able to step out of the way.

“Sorry,” the girl says, rushing past me. She turns on the sink and starts scrubbing at a spot on her white button-up shirt. When I notice her black skirt I realize she must be on the waitstaff. She looks close to tears.

“Are you okay?”

“I just got red wine splashed on my shirt and I don’t think it’s going to come out.” She scrubs harder then reaches for the soap dispenser. “My boss will make me go home.”

“Wait. Don’t use soap. Here, I have something.” I reach into my purse and pull out a little bottle of peroxide solution. We don’t get a lot of stains on the dolls in our store, but every once in a while a little kid with sticky hands or a coffee drinker will do some damage. This solution is a miracle worker. I dab some on her shirt and then blot it with a cloth towel from the counter. “See, look at that. Magic.”

She inspects it and then pulls me into a hug. Probably realizing she shouldn’t maul guests, she pushes away from me with a red face. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . Thank you so much.”

“It’s just a bottle of stain remover.”

“Well, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

She looks down at her clean shirt one last time. “I better get back.”

“You better.”

She leaves and I lean against the tiled wall. Her “crisis” distracted me for a moment, but it didn’t erase what is waiting outside the door.

I have to get out of here. I can’t face Xander when I tell him the truth. I head back to the ballroom and nearly trip over a lady with a headset in the hall holding a clipboard.

I start to walk around her but then stop. “Are you the event planner?”

She smiles like she is obviously trained to do to guests, but I see the obvious signs of stress behind her eyes. She probably thinks I have a complaint. “Yes, can I help you?”

“Xander Spence said my grandparents are here and I can’t find them. Could you tell me which table they’re sitting at? Meyers.” I point to her clipboard as if she doesn’t know where the seating arrangements are located.

“Of course.” She flips through the pages, runs her fingers over a sheet, and then says, “Ah. Here they are. Table thirty. I’ll point it out to you.”

“Thank you.”

It feels like I’m walking underwater. My legs move in slow motion; my head pounds with pressure. Once inside I back up against the nearest wall and she follows suit.

“They’re right there. She’s in the turquoise top. Do you see her?”

I follow the line of her finger to the lady in turquoise. “Yes. There she is. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The event planner walks off quickly, probably responding to the tiny voice I heard yelling in her ear.

Their backs are to me, but the woman in turquoise has shoulder-length dark hair and the man next to her, a distinguished silver. I stay on the edge of the room and walk slowly around, waiting for the moment when I will see their faces. I finally do. I wait to get hit with instant recognition, with a feeling, but nothing happens. A small amount of weight lifts from my shoulders.

The woman looks up and we lock eyes. She gets the look on her face that adds the weight plus another two tons of it back on: recognition. Her mouth forms the word “Susan.” I can see that all the way across the room where I stand. My face burns to see my mom’s name on her lips.