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Julian and Chloe stared at me for a beat, then burst out laughing. The laugh was shrill. Unhinged.
Chloe pointed at me, delighted. "Eve. Are you done embarrassing yourself?"
"You pulled this act to stall before. Now that Ms. Pemberton has paid your bill, you're pulling it again? You think the number-two house in the city can take down the number one? Use your brain. We're number two because the Harringtons have been sitting on our neck for years."
Julian, post-signature, looked at me with plain boredom.
"Eve. For old times' sake, I'll give you one more out. Since the bill is paid, get on your knees, apologize to Chloe, and we're done here."
I actually laughed. Chloe hadn't even crawled out yet, and he wanted me on my knees to her?
He was out of his mind.
I checked my watch. My smile sharpened.
"Go ahead, Julian. Call your father. Ask him how the Harrington Group ticker is doing right now."
Something in my tone cut through his arrogance. He faltered.
He was pulling out his phone when the restaurant doors slammed open again.
Harold Harrington came storming in. In a silk pajama set and a robe. No shoes.
"You worthless little shit. How did I raise you? How?"
He was yelling at Julian. But he was already halfway across the floor, bowing to me in apology.
"Daughter-in-law. I—I'm so sorry. You buried the truth so deep."
"You're Evangeline Ashford. Heiress to the Ashford dynasty. The Ashfords."
I hadn't heard my real name said out loud in a long time. Evangeline Ashford. Not Eve Mercer.
When I'd decided to spend a few years in New York to study the market on my own terms, I'd dropped my last name. Switched to my mother's. I hadn't expected Julian to find me, chase me, cocoon me in a honeyed year of attention. I hadn't expected to fall in love.
Julian's pupils blew wide. He grabbed my arm.
"Ashford? Evangeline Ashford? The Ashford heiress nobody outside the Old Four has ever seen a photo of?"
I pulled my arm free. Nadia handed me a fresh handkerchief and I wiped my mouth.
Julian went gray. He probably remembered, one hour earlier, dusting off his hand with a pocket square because it had touched me.
He turned to his father. "Dad. What are you talking about?"
Chloe was frozen, too. She'd heard the name Evangeline Ashford in the gossip columns, but nobody knew her face. If I was the Evangeline Ashford, she was finished. And so were the Harringtons.
Harold turned on him with pure venom.
"Yes. She's the Ashford heiress. You threw everything away for a secretary. You absolute moron."