It just sucks that everything with Summer so far had to be viewed through so many different lenses. It’s kind of exhausting. Stripping everything else away, and letting Summer stand on her own, she reminds Joy of Megan, who pops by her office every day just to wish her a radiantly cute good morning.

Fox enters the dining room, immediately stopping short. “Whoa.”

“Hey, hey.” Joy smiles as she watches him drink her in. His gaze travels from the base of her dress up to her face in one uninterrupted, leisurely motion.

“You look great. I, um, wow.” Fox blinks in what looks like adoration masked by disbelief.

Times like these, when people suddenly get shocked into speechlessness, Joy usually makes jokes like I hate to break it to you, but I’m very beautiful. Sorry you didn’t notice before to help them recover. A quick shot of too much self-aware confidence somehow always brings people back down to earth. She’s learned, over and over and over, that no one likes a woman who thinks too highly of her looks and is daring enough to speak on it.

But not this time. For once, she wants to revel in the feeling of someone she wants to see her this way appreciating the work she’s put in to look nice for them.

Joy meets his gaze with a pleased smile. “I feel great too.”

Malcolm drops a metal spoon on the ground. It clangs against the floor, splashing sauce everywhere. “Sorry.” He’s looking directly at her—she knows it’s not on purpose. He can’t help it. All the attention in the room belongs to Joy now. “Slipped out of my hand.”

Dinner is a fabulous affair courtesy of Malcolm’s skill. Seared scallops with brown butter and lemon sauce, butternut squash steaks also with delicious brown butter, salad topped with blood oranges, and an impossibly creamy risotto with crispy roasted mushrooms.

“I made the salad,” Summer says sheepishly. “The rest was too advanced for me.”

“Don’t feel bad.” Joy sits in the chair closest to her at the dining room table. “This is too advanced for everyone. I’m sure your salad is amazing too.” Fox takes the seat next to her, while Summer and Malcolm sit across from them, leaving the heads of the table empty.

Summer scrunches her nose. “You’re just being nice.”

“I am. Nothing wrong with that.”

Malcolm begins by opening a bottle of wine, chosen because it pairs well with seafood. He pours everyone a glass, only hesitating for a moment when he reaches Fox. After, he holds out a hand for Summer’s plate and she obliges, passing it to him.