enough to take note of it.
“That’s right,” she said, forcing a smile. For Ryan’s sake, she wanted to give the man a chance.
“Which fork do I use?” Sam whispered.
In reply, Zoe picked up her outside utensil on the left and Sam followed suit.
“I guess your family doesn’t dine together often?” his mother continued.
“We eat as a family every night,” Sam chimed in. “Elena makes the best mousse cocka in the world.”
“Heavens!” Ryan’s grandmother, who sat at the head of the table, turned pale beneath her heavily caked foundation.
Ryan coughed, and Zoe tried not to laugh. “She means moussaka,” Zoe said. “If you saw the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you’d understand the joke.”
“Well, I’d prefer we don’t speak that way at the table.” Ryan’s mother shot Sam a stern glare.
“Sam’s got a great sense of humor. Don’t you, Sam?” Ryan defended his niece for the umpteenth time tonight, regardless of her outrageous words or shocking behavior, Zoe thought approvingly.
Unfortunately, each time he sided with Sam against his family, Zoe fell a little harder for the man.
Sam grinned. “I sure do. Bet I can tell you where you got them shoes,” she said, falling back on the old boardwalk joke.
Everyone around the table looked at one another with blank expressions, except for Ryan’s grandmother who frowned and mumbled something about the child’s deplorable grammar.
“I give up,” Uncle Russ said.
Zoe sensed he sought to make Sam more comfortable and she silently applauded his attempt.
“Where’d I get my shoes?” Russ prodded Sam.
“You got ’em on your feet!” Sam laughed and slammed her hand on the table for emphasis, knocking over Zoe’s glass of red wine by mistake.
Zoe jumped up to avoid being soaked by the liquid, but the white tailored blouse she wore had already taken the worst of the spill.
“Oh jeez!” Sam grabbed for her napkin and helping Zoe, they began to blot the mess.
Suddenly Ryan’s grandmother yelled at them both. “Stop!”
They paused.
“Those napkins were stitched by my mother and aren’t meant to be used as dishrags.”
“But they’re napkins,” Sam said. She looked at Ryan, who also stood. He surveyed the table and the situation, his cheeks turning a ruddy color.
“Then pardon me, ma’am, but why put them on a table where there’s food, drink, and their designated use is for cleaning?” Zoe asked with the same mock sweetness she’d been treated to all evening.
“Clearly we’re going to have to teach the young lady table manners if she’s going to fit in.” Ryan’s mother picked up a bell Zoe hadn’t noticed before and rang for the help to clean up.
Zoe clenched her jaw. “I wonder what good table manners will do her in a house when all other form of manners are missing.”
Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Relax,” he said softly.
She couldn’t begin to know how after all she’d endured.
“I’ll handle this,” he promised both with his words and his touch.
“Ryan, there’s no need to handle anything. I understand Samantha hasn’t been raised in the best of homes, so rest assured we’ll cut her some slack,” his mother said.
Zoe’s temper flared. “How dare you insult my family and my home—”
Ryan’s easy touch turned harsher, cutting her off. “This was a mistake.” He strode over to Sam and Zoe. “I wanted you to meet each other,” he said, facing the table. “You’ve done that. Now we’re leaving.”
His dark eyes flashed angry sparks. He was obviously pained with emotions Zoe had never seen in him before.
Without realizing her intent, she reached up and covered his hand with her own, offering him the only support she could.
As they turned to leave, Uncle Russ spoke. “Wait. This situation has been difficult on all of us, can we at least agree on that?”
“He’s got a point,” Ryan’s father said.
The older women, Ryan’s mother and grandmother, nodded their agreement.
“Zoe?” Uncle Russ asked.
She pivoted, met the older man’s gaze and forced herself to nod as well.
“Samantha?”
“It bites,” she muttered, only to receive an elbow on either side from both Zoe and Ryan.
“The kid does have a point, albeit a colorful one,” Uncle Russ conceded with a smile. He gestured to their empty chairs.
For the sake of Ryan’s relationship with his family, Zoe decided to follow Uncle Russ’s lead, and grabbing Sam’s hand, she sat back down.
“I think we need to start over,” Uncle Russ said, his pointed gaze settling on his nephew. “Tonight we get through this meal and as a thank-you, tomorrow we do something Samantha would enjoy more.”
Although Zoe hadn’t liked Russ upon meeting