By the time they made their way back upstairs, the dining room had been transformed into something that could have graced the pages of a luxury lifestyle magazine.
Thomas had outdone himself with the formal table setting—gleaming silver, crystal glasses that caught the warm light from the chandelier, and linens so perfectly pressed they looked like they'd been ironed by angels with OCD.
"Thomas," Samantha breathed as they entered the room, "this is absolutely beautiful."
"Thank you, Miss Samantha," Thomas replied with the kind of quiet satisfaction that came from decades of creating perfect dining experiences. "I thought the occasion warranted something special. Your first family dinner at home, as it were."
Nova's portable crib had been positioned at the perfect distance from the table—close enough for them to keep watch over their sleeping daughter, but far enough away that their conversation wouldn't disturb her peaceful slumber.
