“We’re here to supportEliza,” Piper said, still smiling.
“And the culinary scene,” Lucy added cheerfully. “But mostly Eliza. You’ll find out.”
His jaw ticked. He turned to me, voice pitched low. “Eliza’s always had talent. Shame it didn’t translate into something big.”
Heat flared sharp and immediate, a spark of anger that wanted teeth. My fingers curled around the stem of my glass, knuckles whitening for half a second before I forced them to relax. I kept my face smooth, my posture loose, like the commenthad slid right past me instead of landing exactly where he’d aimed it.
I’d learned that lesson the hard way—he only struck when he thought he could still hurt me. I wouldn’t give him that now. Not here. Not in front of Nate. Not in a room full of people waiting to see me react.
So I smiled, slow and deliberate, and took a sip of my spritzer like I had nothing to prove at all.
Paige’s eyes went flat—the look that cleared a bar at closing. She moved half a step closer, voice cold enough to chill champagne. “I love this part. Where men think they can say things that sound polite but are really just mean, and we pretend we didn’t get it.” She tilted her head. “We got it, Graham.”
Beside me, Nate shifted. I felt it before I saw it—the tension in his body, the instinct to stand, to put himself between me, my sisters, and Graham. His chair scraped just enough to register, and for a split second, I knew he was about to say something.
Then Piper’s hand landed lightly on his forearm.We’ve got this.
Nate stilled, jaw tight, eyes never leaving Graham. A beat later, his hand found mine beneath the table, fingers threading with quiet certainty. He squeezed once, and I held on.
It settled me in a way I hadn’t expected. The knowledge that he would step in if he needed to—but trusted me, trusted my sisters, trustedus—felt like its own kind of shield.
I lifted my chin a fraction higher.
For the first time, I wasn’t standing alone across from Graham.
And he could feel it.
Piper set her clutch on our table and smiled so gently I almost felt bad for him. “Graham, sweetie,” she said. “You’re not as clever as you think you are. Behave yourself.”
A low, delighted chuckle rumbled from Nate.
Graham’s smile calcified. “This is a grand opening?—”
“Then open grandly,” Paige said softly. “Start with an apology.”
To his credit—or lack of imagination—he went with placation. “If anything I said was taken the wrong way?—”
Piper sighed, as if she were sad for him. “That’s not an apology.”
“Try again,” Cara suggested, serenity edged with steel. “Here’s a tip—don’t start with the wordif.”
Graham recalibrated, turned to me. “Eliza,” he said carefully, “I’m sorry if—” His eyes shot to Cara after she cleared her throat. “thatmy comments came across as unkind. You were poised for greatness and—I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings.”
I held his gaze. “But it was your habit, wasn’t it?”
“I just want to be friends. I’m opening a restaurant here. I don’t want any bad blood between us to affect that. Please accept my apology.”
I considered his words, searching his face for sincerity. The tension at the table lingered, fragile but shifting, as if everyone was waiting to see if I would extend the olive branch, then decide where to go from there. Piper’s gaze was steady, and Cara’s subtle nod reminded me that grace could be a choice, not a concession.
“Okay. I accept. Thank you.” I knew he didn’t mean it, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him out of my life.
Nate didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His thumb traced that same quiet line along my pulse—I’m here.
Graham inclined his head. “Enjoy your evening,” he said, and retreated, smile fixed, distance measured.
My sisters didn’t gloat. Didn’t make a spectacle. They simply joined us at the table. Paige caught the server’s eye and ordered around of champagne for our table and the nearest two. “On me,” she said, pleasantly.
Lucy leaned in, voice low. “We can be obnoxious and cause a scene. Or we can sit here and look stunning until it’s annoying.”
