Emily glanced at Andrew Lane, searching his face for a hint of guidance. But Andrew remained impassive, as if silently granting her full control. She couldn’t help but smile at that.
She didn’t know exactly what Andrew hoped to gain by letting her take the lead, but if his influence could be put to use, she certainly wasn’t going to waste it.
A sly curve played at the corner of her lips. “And what about you?”
Mr. Green’s ingratiating smile faltered, caught off guard by her question.
He understood her meaning instantly.
Olivia Moore and her son had already apologized—now it was his turn.
The deference in Mr. Green’s eyes faded, replaced by a shrewder, more calculating gaze, tinged with a trace of resentment.
Emily’s smile only widened. “Your niece and grand-nephew have both apologized. Seems like it’s your turn, don’t you think?”
Mr. Green pressed his lips together, his gaze darting toward Andrew Lane, as if hoping for rescue.
Emily’s voice was crisp. “What do you think, Mr. Lane?”
Mr. Green snapped his head toward Andrew, seeking support. “Mr. Lane?”
Andrew’s reply was cool and succinct. “Do as she says.”
Mr. Green’s expression soured, but he could only force a stiff laugh. “Of course, whatever you say, Mr. Lane.”
He managed a strained grin and was about to speak, but Emily cut him off. “Hold on. There’s still something we haven’t resolved.”
Mr. Green had already steeled himself for the humiliation of apologizing to a girl young enough to be his daughter. Emily’s interruption deflated him, and the irritation he’d been suppressing threatened to boil over.
He ground his teeth, voice taut. “What else do you want, Ms. Blair?”


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