Keeping Food Cold on a Summer Buffet

He didn't know why he was there. 

Samuel knew exactly what he was doing - the usual formal attire, his signature charming smile, the attentive nodding, keeping eye contact - he knew the knowledge he had about large corporate businesses and classical music was impressing the Buffets. 

The Buffets. Entrepreneurs first, Summer's parents later. 

What the hell was he doing there?

Samuel knew exactly what he was doing, but the conversations seemed to be happening in slow motion, a one big blur. That was how everything seemed to him every since he got back. Ever since that incident in Paris. Samuel had decided to lock himself in his dorm room and never get out, but as soon as he heard the news about Summer, well he honestly had no idea what had gotten over him, but he just got into his car, and drove. 

So there he was. The Buffet mansion. 

"...I'm just saying, Mr. Buffet." the boy continued as he raised his hands, "it was pretty clever how your lawyers handled that whole Harvey lawsuit. I mean they are sly sons-of-a-bitches, but clever nonetheless." the boy joked with a grin. That earned him amused laughter from both of Summer's parents. Mr. Buffet shook his head amusingly as he patted Samuel on the back. "Which isexactly what I'm paying them to be, Mr. Harrington." the billionaire replied with such wit, and Samuel had expected nothing more from the man. 

The power couple escorted Samuel up the stairs as they conversed. They had asked Samuel to stay the night, at one of their many guest rooms. "Oh-" Samuel interrupted himself, not sure what he was even supposed to say. "I'm don't want to impose, sir." he replied quickly. "Nonesense, a friend of Summer is always welcomed here. That's why you're here for, I presume? To see my daughter? Now where is that girl, anyway?" Mrs. Buffet asked, with such poise and class exerting from every word she said. Samuel scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yes, of course." he answered, but he was also assuring himself.