The vestibule dings as we ride up each floor. “I think it did, too. Annabelle thought we were actually a couple.” I don’t know why the admission causes me to blush, but it does, my cheeks turning pink.

“Fooling strangers is a good start.”

“I’ve been studying the list you sent me.”

Earlier this week, Henry forwarded over a document with information about his parents, siblings, and other close relatives. I’m blown away by his successful family. His father served on the Massachusetts Supreme Court for twelve years. His mother was a state representative for 20 years and helped pass a bill requiring all feminine hygiene products to be tax-free. Henry’s sister, Elizabeth, is the Dean of Admissions at a private high school, while his brother, Andrew—Drew, for short—is the CEO of a leading engineering firm.

Intimidated is an understatement. I’m freaking out. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been around high-profile folks, executives, sports stars, and millionaires; the Dawson’s are a daunting bunch. I expected to find articles addressing how terrible they are—conniving, greedy, and dangerous, rich assholes. Instead, I found they weren’t terrible at all.

They’re philanthropic, generous, and exceedingly kind. I watched the cutest interview where Henry’s mother sat down with a young Girl Scout, answering all her questions in a gracious way, speaking as if she was the most important person in the world. It was admirable.

“You’re thinking hard over there,” Henry interjects. “Tell me what’s going through your brain. How can I help?”

“Sorry. Your family is just…” I trail off, not knowing the politically correct way to voice my thoughts.

“A lot? Yeah, I know.” Walking down the hall, we stop at #4. He unlocks the door with a key fob. “They’re more down to earth than you think they might be.”

“I’ll be better by next weekend, I promise.”

“I don’t have any doubts, VRG.”

When he pushes the door to his apartment ajar, my jaw drops open at the sight greeting me.

Massive. The place is huge and sprawling, bigger than my house by a landslide. Floor-to-ceiling windows show off the entire city below us, dazzling, twinkling lights blinking at me like fireflies in a field on a hot summer night.

“Holy shit,” I curse, walking inside and straight for the glass. My nose presses against the cool material, scoping out as much of the view as I can.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” I stare outside, mesmerized by how beautiful the world looks this high in the sky.

“It’s even prettier at sunset,” Henry says from my side. “It’s rarely get to see it, though, with work and everything. When I do, I’m reminded how lucky I am to be alive.” He pauses, considering the statement. “That’s cliché, I know.”