I smiled.
“Funny,” I said, settling at the table beside them. “I was told this room was booked for a business dinner.”
Evan recovered quickly. “Maya. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“It looks like my sister is wearing the dress I bought, sitting with my fiancé, in the restaurant I own.”
Clara lifted her chin. “You always loved drama.”
“And you always loved taking things you couldn’t afford.”
Her eyes flashed.
Evan leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Let’s not make a scene.”
I poured champagne slowly, watching the bubbles rise.
“Oh, Evan,” I said. “The scene started before I arrived.”
His smile faltered.
Because behind the vase between our tables, my phone was recording. And above us, every private room camera was working perfectly….
Clara should have been afraid. Instead, she sharpened.
“You know,” she said, smoothing the stolen dress over her knees, “maybe this is for the best. Evan needs someone exciting. Someone who doesn’t treat love like a quarterly report.”
Evan let out a soft laugh. “Maya’s practical. That’s all.”
Practical. That was the word people used for women when they benefited from their discipline but resented their control.
I raised my glass. “To excitement.”
