“Oh, please. You can totally judge a book by its cover. Your other boyfriends were lame. This one comes off like he can take care of things.” Her hand pets his bicep, which I pull away from her trajectory.
Matthew seems to be assessing Sebastian as well, but where he couldn’t care less about his pretty features, he is definitely sizing him up. My brother loves nothing more than the knowledge that he can beat up everyone else.
“Yo! What do you bench? Two? Two fifty?” Matthew asks, and I roll my eyes toward Mom, who just shrugs.
Sebastian doesn’t seem fazed. “Two eighty to three hundred. I try to stay about a hundred pounds over my weight. I want to be strong but not bulky. I don’t have the discipline to get to the gym as often as I’d like. I do mostly cardio and strength training with free weights at home. Lots of push-ups.”
Matthew eyes him skeptically. “Like a hundred? How long does it take you? I can—”
“Make it stop,” I beg my mother, who raises her hands as if she’s helpless to the situation. Behind her is a barbeque grill. “Matt, your burgers are burning.”
“Oh crap!” He rushes over to the grill that’s now smoking.
Mom and Fiona follow him, waving away the plumes in the air.
Henry is looking down with an expression of complete annoyance, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Definitely not going to be a hundred and sixty degrees,” he mumbles to himself before extending his hand to Sebastian. “Sorry about that. You’ll have to excuse Matthew. He joined an old-school iron powerlifting gym a few years ago and has been infatuated with fitness ever since. I’m Henry. The maturer brother.”
Sebastian shakes his hand, and the two men hold on a touch too long, both their grips firm. Where Matthew likes to test brute strength, Henry will judge a man based on his handshake.
“Amy speaks highly of you. I read your original article on the pragmatic and randomized trial of the phase two trial for the antibody in early Alzheimer’s disease.”
I lean back and stare up at Sebastian, surprised he read one of Henry’s articles. My brother also seems surprised but maybe more impressed than anything.
“The antibody that targets amyloid deposited in the brain showed a better result for cognitive ability compared to the placebo.”
“The hallmark of Alzheimer’s disease is the accumulation of amyloid-B peptide,” Sebastian states.
“The antibody targets that. The baseline iADRS score at seventy-six weeks showed significant decrease in amyloid peptide. We were quite pleased.” Henry has a smug expression. Meeting someone who not only finds interest in his work, but can also banter about it is greater than foreplay to him.
Before Henry has a chance to deep dive into Sebastian’s brain and steal his afternoon away, I interject, “Mom is putting the food on the table. I think it’s time we all take a seat.”
I’m pulling Sebastian toward the table before Henry has a chance to utter another word. Luckily, his wife has now walked over to him and is turning his attention toward their children, who are now wrestling in the grass.
“That was impressive,” I whisper to Sebastian. “I didn’t know you’d read my brother’s research paper.”
“Actually, I didn’t. I just did a bunch of research last night. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s to never come to the courtroom unprepared.”
I bat my eyes. “You’re so smart. I knew I chose you for a reason.”
We make our way to the outside tables that are already set up with tablecloths and pink princess decorations with party hats for all of us to wear.
Before we sit down, my father approaches Sebastian with his hand out in greeting. “Sebastian, I’m James. Welcome to our home.” He has an apron on that says Kiss the Cook, which is just adorable and so fitting for my dad.
Sebastian gives him the same firm handshake he gave Henry. “Thank you for having me, especially on such a joyous occasion.” He smiles down to my niece Kelsey, who is climbing up in her birthday-girl spot. “Sorry we’re late. I had to finish up some things for work before we could leave.”
“Attorney, right?” he asks, and Sebastian nods in affirmation. “No worries at all. I like a hardworking man for my Amy. Just glad you could make it.”
I grin over to Sebastian, who seems cool as a cucumber while meeting my family. He helps me with my seat before taking his own. Heather takes a seat at the head of the table, which Dad happily gave up so she’d have room for her enormous belly. She looks so uncomfortable, as she’s due any day now.
“So, Sebastian,” Fiona asks from across the table, “tell me about your job. Amy says you practice personal injury law. Please tell me you’re not an ambulance chaser, like those creepy commercials that are on every hour.” She quirks her head to the side with a smug expression covering her normally pretty features, which I want to rip off right now.
“Fiona, that’s rude,” I growl.
Sebastian places his hand on my thigh with a laugh. “It’s okay. I know there are some creepy lawyers out there, but there are some good ones too. I like to think I’m on the good side of things. My office specializes in civil rights law as well.”
“Any cases we might have heard of?” Henry asks as he fills his plate with chicken.
“Did you read about the Jeremy Carson case? He was wrongfully accused of a crime and spent seven years in prison. There was also the Hotel, where a worker fell off the roof,” Sebastian explains.
Matthew whistles through his teeth. “I know both those cases. Multimillion-dollar payouts. You make a cut of that? Damn. If you’re looking for a place to invest, I can help you out.”
I roll my eyes at my day-trader brother trying to get a deal at his niece’s birthday. “He actually also does a lot of pro bono work to give back to the community. One free client for every high-profile one he wins. All of that pales in comparison to what he and his company donate to city foundations, including the Children’s Theater,” I state matter-of-factly and notice Sebastian’s grin as he turns to me. I might have stalked his company website pretty hard when we first met. “Fiona, I believe your company did the advertising campaign for the reopening of the theater. His company also contributed to the restoration of the landmark.”
Fiona seems impressed. “Well, it’s nice to see you with a professional. Perhaps he’ll rub off on you, so you’ll stop living the pipe dream of an Etsy seller. Not that your chocolates aren’t delicious. They’re just not going to generate a livable income.”
“When I met Amy, I was impressed with her business plan, and the products are substantial,” Sebastian states, instantly filling me with pride that he’s standing up for me like this.
“She makes chocolate behind a gym, where she’s also sleeping. That’s not really a career,” Fiona explains.
Sebastian turns to me with a grin. “You should have seen my first place when I moved to Philly. At least hers has air-conditioning and a real heater. Mine was a tiny hole in the wall with just a floor heater that barely worked. Everyone starts somewhere. It humbles you to have rough beginnings. Makes you work harder.”
My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so big as I listen to him speak. “Exactly.”