Chapter 4
The seating arrangement was clearly intentional, with Tracy Davis sitting at the head of the table and me on the opposite end.
At first, Charles leaned slightly toward me, whispering a few words, but as Tracy Davis began talking about the latest fashion collections and her upcoming social events, his focus slowly shifted toward her. His body subtly moved closer to hers.
It wasn't until I reached for my glass of wine and accidentally knocked it over, spilling the deep red liquid all over the table, that Charles snapped back to reality. His eyes widened in concern, and without a second thought, he rushed to grab a napkin, dabbing at the mess.
"Are you okay?"
While Tracy went to the restroom, Charles' group of friends started whispering with malicious intent.
"Has Mr. Wilson lost his mind? "He's completely ignoring the sophisticated, accomplished, and elegant Ms. Davis, and instead, he chooses to focus on a woman with no education, no status, and no future to speak of."
"Exactly! Look at her-like some country bumpkin. How embarrassing!"
"She's got no culture. If you showed her a real Pétrus, she'd probably mistake it for some random drinking!"
They snickered, throwing me scornful glances from time to time.
They fell silent when Tracy returned.
Not long after, one of the rich second-generation men took out a beautifully wrapped antique vase. The only flaw was a small crack running along its side, barely noticeable unless inspected closely. A renowned ceramic expert in the room took a close look and shook his head, declaring it a reproduction.
Tracy Davis curled her lip. "This vase is obviously a fake. You've been scammed."
I glanced at the vase. "It is not fake!"
The crack was from me. I had been just a child, careless, playing near my father's prized painting. One slip, and it crashed to the floor and here it was again.
The crowd looked at me in disbelief before bursting into laughter.
"Ms. Winston, you've never studied antiques. What makes you think you can tell if this vase is real? Are you better than the expert?"
"The real one was already collected by the Winston Family."
Their laughter grew louder. "Who does she think she is, daring to speak out of turn? "
Charles' face flushed with embarrassment as he gently stroked the back of my hand.
"Vicky, I know you've been studying art appreciation lately, but just studying doesn't mean you can tell the difference between genuine and fake."
"Tracy has studied antiques abroad since she was young, and her family has a collection of famous antiques. She wouldn't get it wrong."
Tracy Davis then took the opportunity to ask to see the necklace around my neck, claiming she had never seen anything like it before.
The necklace was custom-made by Charles, with a rare jade pendant, my favorite stone, instead of the usual pearls.
I looked at Charles, only to see his expression stiffen slightly.
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