Chapter 79

• Howard and Charlotte arrived at one of the city's most luxurious restaurants, a gleaming sanctuary of crystal chandeliers, velvet booths, and waitstaff in crisp tuxedos gliding like shadows. They were ushered to a prime table overlooking the glittering skyline, the kind of place where deals were sealed over caviar and champagne. Charlotte shifted uncomfortably in her seat—this wasn't her world. No familiarity with the leather-bound menus thick as novels, no clue what to order amid the French-Italian fusion scrawled in elegant script.
• Howard slid the menu toward her with a casual flick, his eyes glinting. "Order whatever you want. Don't freak out over the prices."
• The words landed like a jab, and Charlotte felt the familiar sting—Howard mocking her again, her simpler tastes, her outsider status. She met his gaze coldly, composing herself with steel resolve, then scanned the menu deliberately. She shortlisted the priciest items—the wagyu steak at $180, lobster thermidor at $120, and truffle risotto—and ordered them all, even the imported Fiji water at $15 a bottle. "We'll have those," she told the waiter, her voice steady, then turned to Howard with a defiant lift of her chin.