“I enjoy the competition,” she said lightly. “It can’t be all bad. After all, you were there too.”
“Well, yes, but I’m a dragon male. Women are far less frequent attendees, and never without a chaperone. To think you were there alone! Well, you were fortunate I came upon you when I did and not someone with less than honorable intentions.”
She ground her teeth to keep from biting out that she’d fared quite well alone at the pits for centuries. He could shove his honorable intentions where the sun didn’t shine. And oh, her bet had paid off, while his had not.
“You certainly were my good luck charm that afternoon,” she said, smoothing her napkin. “My winnings were substantial.”
The veiled blow must have landed because his smile faltered. “Well,” he scoffed. “I suppose every dog has her day.”
Dog! Who was he calling a dog? She plastered on a sweet smile and turned toward her mother. “What’s for supper? It smells delicious.”
“Elderbeast stew.” She rushed to the kitchen and returned with a steaming metal cauldron filled with a delightful mix of meat and root vegetables.
Harlow rested her fingers against her mouth to keep from asking where her mother had bought the stew. She couldn’t cook. Not even toast. She suspected she’d find packaging from the Silver Sunset somewhere in their garbage heap. Although she had to hand it to her mother, the presentation was fantastic. She’d managed a stunning table that would be fitting even in their Firedrake home.
Her mother gestured toward the ladle resting against the side of the pot and looked at Adradys. “You’re our guest. Please serve yourself first.”
Adradys looked down his nose at her and chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you no longer have servants to handle such things. Understandable, considering the awful state you’re in.”
Awful state! It was all Harlow could do not to rip into the bastard. This was a table fit for a king, and that stew smelled like heaven in a pot. The fucker was just sitting there like he didn’t know how to spoon stew into a bowl.
His soft, manicured fingers finally gripped the side of his bowl. But instead of serving himself, he handed the bowl to her! “Harlow, perhaps you could do the honors.”
Her gaze locked on the bowl, and she had a miniature daydream of breaking it on the table and stabbing him in the neck with a shard of ceramic. But her father must have noticed her hesitation because he cleared his throat and gave her a pleading glare. Her father didn’t plead. He needed this, and she’d play along for now.
“Of course,” she said through a tight, reluctant throat, then added under her breath, “Wouldn’t want you to stain that suit.”
Adradys chuckled. “Oh, Harlow, kind of you to notice. It is the finest Paragon has to offer.”
She turned her back to him and rolled her eyes as she obediently filled his bowl. Her mother met her gaze, and goddess bless her heart, seemed to be equally perturbed with their guest. She held Harlow’s stare, darted her eyes in Adradys’s direction, and flashed an obscene gesture in her lap where neither he nor her father could see it.
Harlow smiled before placing the dish in front of their guest and then filling her own bowl.
“Our situation is brutally disappointing,” her mother said suddenly, rising and reaching for her father’s plate. “Harlow isn’t cut out for this life. She is no servant and shouldn’t be dishing anyone’s food. I rather think she’s a queen in commoner’s clothing, don’t you? Sit down, dear. I will serve the rest of the table.”
Her father did a double take at Lemetria’s words and sipped from the glass of dark purple liquor in front of him.
Harlow didn’t turn her head, but she could feel Adradys’s judgmental gaze raking over her, tallying all the ways she was definitely not a queen in commoner’s clothing. He did not respond to her mother’s comment.
“Adradys,” she said sweetly, “I was recently telling my father about our conversation at the pits and how much you said you respected his craftsmanship.”
Adradys waved a hand dismissively. “Everyone knows that Darium’s doors were synonymous with prestige and quality. Why, the door to this house is an absolute work of art.”
Now Harlow turned, watching him take a bite of stew. He nodded his approval to her mother. Maybe she’d misjudged the man. That sounded like a genuine compliment. Perhaps this dinner would pay off after all.
She attempted to close the deal. “You’re in luck. He’s a free agent now. You should snap him up before someone else does.” Famished, Harlow took her own bite of stew. It was the Silver Sunset’s recipe, but she didn’t care. Delicious.
“I am open to new opportunities,” Darium said humbly.
At that moment, Harlow was honored to be her father’s daughter. His words warmed her heart. He wasn’t haughty about the compliment, and his tone held a gentle question, a desire to work for this awful man who was once his closest competitor. It must have taken an act of superior will to cast aside his pride and make himself vulnerable.
But it would all pay off. This was it. She could see it on Adradys’s face, the question poised on his lips. This was what they’d been waiting for. He was going to offer Darium a job.
Harlow gave Adradys a warm smile. “A wise businessman such as yourself must see what a valuable addition Darium would be to your team.” Harlow layered on the charm and stared at him expectantly.
His answering smile was no less charming. “Unfortunately, as much as I respect the work you’ve done in the past, Darium, we receive many requests a day to replace your doors. I hate to be the bearer of such news, but no one wants to be associated with scandal. To hire you now, with your reputation as it is, wouldn’t be good for the company.”
Harlow’s breath caught. Why in Hades had he come here if he had no intention of hiring her father? She pressed him again. “But surely you could give him a position behind the scenes. No one needs to know who is making the doors in your factory, and my father could teach your other craftsmen.”
