Three months into their public relationship, Alexander asked Maya to accompany him to his sister's wedding in Napa Valley.
"I should warn you," Alexander said as they drove through the rolling hills of wine country, "my family is... a lot."
"How so?"
"My parents are old money. Very traditional. They have opinions about everything, and they're not shy about sharing them."
Maya felt her stomach clench. "And what do they think about me?"
Alexander reached over to squeeze her hand. "They think I'm an idiot for taking so long to settle down."
The Sinclair family estate was sprawling and elegant, with manicured gardens and a view of the valley that belonged in a magazine. Maya felt distinctly out of place as Alexander led her up the front steps.
"Alexander!" A woman who could only be his mother swept toward them, her arms outstretched. Eleanor Sinclair was elegant and intimidating in equal measure, with silver hair and sharp blue eyes.
"Mother," Alexander said, submitting to her embrace. "This is Maya."
Eleanor turned to Maya with a smile that seemed genuine. "My dear, we've heard so much about you. Alexander hasn't stopped talking about you since—well, since he's been capable of talking about anything other than work."
Maya felt some of her tension ease. "It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Sinclair."
"Please, call me Eleanor. We're practically family now."