"Atty. Doyle, you're a lawyer, not an art appraiser. Don't embarrass yourself." His tone was full of irritation and denial. "We all heard what the man said—the real vase was bought by the richest man in the Capital City, for his precious daughter. Like hell that thing ended up here in Bayport.
Kiara gasped like she was in a soap opera.
"Unless…" she said, eyes darting to me with fake shock. "Therese stole it from the richest family?"
Then she leaned in, whispering dramatically, "Or maybe she seduced the richest man himself?"
I couldn't help but laugh at their ignorance.
"You two really don't get tired of embarrassing yourselves, do you?"
Then, I leaned back against the edge of the table with my arms crossed, watching them squirm.
"Well, since you're both so desperate to know…" I paused, letting the silence hang for a beat. "Let me put you out of your misery. The richest man in the Capital City? That's my dad."
That shut them both up for about two seconds.
As if it had been rehearsed, Oliver and Kiara made eye contact and burst out laughing.
"Therese, please," Oliver said through wheezing laughter. "I know exactly what your background is. The richest man? Your dad? More like sugar daddy!"