I Never Told My Fiancé I Owned Three Companies. He Always Thought I Was Simply A Freelance Designer. When He Introduced Me To His Very Well-Connected Family, I Let Them Keep Believing That. Then His Father Noticed My Last Name.

“Yes, of course,” she said smoothly. “Timelessness over fashion. I admire that. Though sometimes,” she added lightly, “the right accessories can make a woman’s simplicity shine even brighter.”

Her gaze flicked toward my bare wrists and neck.

I smiled. “I suppose I haven’t found the right ones yet.”

Richard poured me a glass of wine before I could decline.

“You’ll like this. It’s a 2012 Bordeaux. Cost me a small fortune.”

“Then I’ll make sure not to waste a drop,” I said with a nod.

Eleanor laughed again—that polite, brittle laugh that sounds like fine china tapping against glass.

“Daniel mentioned you live in Capitol Hill, correct?”

“Yes. Near the park, above a bakery.”

“Oh, that area’s… artistic,” she said, as though the word itself carried dust. “Full of charm and street murals. We used to attend a fundraiser there once a year.”

“It’s a beautiful community,” I said evenly. “Lots of artists, small cafés, people who wave when you walk by. It feels alive.”

“Of course,” she said. “It must be inspiring. Though I imagine parking is dreadful.”

I took a sip of wine to hide my smile. “It is. That’s why I bike.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “You bike. In Seattle.”

“Every day,” I said. “Rain or shine.”