Page 91 of Sweetheart

I accepted his terms, knowing that was as good as it was going to get.

Sam had arrived a few minutes ago, and I met him at the door, led him into the kitchen, introduced him onceagain to my Dad—who grunted 'hello' in response—and since then, we'd all been in this terrible stalemate. My father's steely glare was fixed on Sam, and a deep scowl was etched into his face. It looked so strange because Leo Kent was not a scowler by nature. Dad's go-to expression wasan easy grin. But not tonight. The spaghetti was getting cold. My palms were sweaty. But Sam looked cool as a cucumber.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Kent," Sam said. "How have you been?"

Dad grunted.

"This dinner looks good."

No response.

"Are you still a big soccer fan? Scarlett's come to a few games since we started dating."

My father's eyes settled on me briefly. "You don't like sports."

"I like them sometimes," I said with a sniff.

Sam gave me a small smile. "Knowing she's in the stands makes me want to play better."

"Have you been to one of her performances?"

"Not yet," he said, "but I want to. She's always been amazing on violin—and at everything she does."

My father went back to scowling at Sam as I furiously texted my sister under the table.

Me:SOS!Send help immediately.

Charlotte:What's wrong???

Me:Dad's looking at Sam like he wants to rip out his entrails and wear them as a hat.

Charlotte:That's…very descriptive.

Me:I'm serious! I need you to drive home now and break upthis dinner.

Charlotte:Why? Have knives been thrown?

Me:Not yet, but I could see it happening. SEND HELP, PLEASE!!!

My phone started ringing, and I saw Charlotte's picture on the screen.

Looking up, I glanced from Dad to Sam.

"My sister's calling," I announced though no one looked at me. "I'm just going to step out for a second."

"Take your time," Sam said.

"Tell Charlotte I said hi," Dad said next.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked this of Sam, but he didn't look freaked out at all by my Dad's death-glare.

"We'll be fine," Sam said.

"Yeah, this will give us a chance to talk," Dad added. When I hesitated, he said, "Go on, Scarlett."

"I'll be right back," I said then quickly walked into the living room.

It was far enough away that I wouldn't be overheard and close enough that if anything really was thrown I could be in there in five seconds flat.

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