Blake wiped his tears instantly and puffed up like a rooster, looking triumphant.
But before her foot landed, the gold-medal lawyer dropped to her knees with a thud, arms out to block her.
“Miss Wright—if I’m not mistaken... that vase was real.”
Her words shut both Phoebe and Blake up instantly.
I blinked. Well, well. So the “gold-medal” lawyer actually had some expertise beyond legal jargon.
But in the next second, Phoebe shoved her aside and crushed the remaining shards under her heel.
“Lawyer Nelson, you’re paid to handle contracts—not antiques. You heard what they said—the real vase was bought by the richest man in New York for his son to use as a flower vase. As if that would ever end up in this house.”
Blake immediately gasped dramatically. “Unless Gabriel stole it from the richest man’s house?”
“Or wait... did he actually seduce the richest man himself?!”
I couldn't help but laugh at their ridiculous assumptions.
“Well, since we’re putting cards on the table, I'll tell you. The richest man in New York? That’s my dad.”
Phoebe and Blake locked eyes for a moment—then burst out laughing like it was the funniest joke they had ever heard.