Chapter 36

Daphne’s nervousness vanished. She said, “Well, it’s hard to refuse when someone else is treating.”

“I see…” Sebastian glanced around the table. He knew, without Daphne’s explanation, that Yvonne was paying. Given Daphne’s personality, she wouldn't miss a chance to subtly undermine Yvonne.

“Ms. Smith,” Sebastian asked with a smile, “you wouldn’t mind me joining you, would you?”

Yvonne awkwardly shook her head. “No, not at all.” Then, remembering something, she glanced quickly at Wilson. “Mr. Turner,” she asked, “did you come with Daphne? You two seem awfully close these days. You’re always together…”

Her insinuation was clear. Wilson’s gaze darkened with anger. “Let’s eat,” he snapped. “I want to see someone make a fool of themselves with their unrefined manners.”

Daphne tightened her grip on her utensils. She was disappointed that Wilson didn't know her at all.

Later, Daphne flawlessly cracked the shell, extracted the meat, and even reassembled the crab shell to its original form. To everyone’s surprise, she handled the crab with expertise. When she placed the final leg piece, completing the reassembled shell, even Jack applauded.

“Impressive!” he said. “That was truly elegant, Daphne. You didn’t miss a single step. Mr. Farrell mentioned that you were from—”

“Yes, I come from humble beginnings,” Daphne interjected. “I grew up in the countryside; my parents were farmers. I spent four years struggling as an extra in this industry before landing my first leading role. There’s a lot about high society I didn’t know—wine tasting, fine dining etiquette, appreciating jewelry and art. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”

She continued, “Mr. Farrell probably hasn’t been home in so long that his memory of me is stuck in the past, when I knew nothing. This past year, I’ve learned how to properly handle seafood, appreciate wine, and smile graciously at social events…”

Daphne set down her utensils, her smile confident and cutting. “Mr. Harrington, etiquette can be learned, but talent can’t. You must’ve heard about Ms. Smith’s acting abilities. If it weren’t for Mr. Farrell’s backing, she wouldn’t even deserve a seat at this table with you.”

“Daphne! How dare you!” Yvonne exclaimed, jumping up and scattering her half-assembled crab shell across the plate. “How is my acting inferior to yours? What makes you think I’m not worthy of dining with Mr. Harrington?”

She added, “Who knows how you really won those acting awards? I’m younger, prettier, and have plenty of opportunities ahead to become a star. What gives you the right to be so arrogant?”

“Hit a nerve, have I?” Daphne arched an eyebrow, calmly wiping her hands with a napkin. “Mr. Harrington, you’ve seen it yourself. Ms. Smith’s composure hardly seems suitable for your film’s character. If I remember correctly, your female lead is supposed to be extremely emotionally stable.”

Yvonne realized she’d fallen into a trap. She clicked her tongue in frustration. “Mr. Harrington, let me explain—Daphne and I have some personal issues, but I’m usually very composed.”

“Enough,” Wilson interrupted, rapping his knuckles on the table. “It’s not your place to judge whether Yvonne is worthy or not, Daphne. If you’re smart, you’ll stay out of her way.”