I Fled the Wedding, the Obsessed CEO Lost His Sanity novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: The Gift

The Lowell house had a dining table that sat twenty, and Daphne had been given the seat beside mine.

It was the Sunday dinner Harvey's mother held every month, and tonight she called it a pre-wedding toast.

Candles ran down the middle of the table.

Harvey sat across from me, and every time I looked up his eyes were already there.

At the head of the table sat an old man in a tweed jacket with a cane hooked over his chair.

Clarence Lowell, Harvey's grandfather, the chairman of the company.

He had shaken my hand at the door and said, "You're the one who draws," and held on a second too long.

"I'm the one who draws," I said.

"Good. Everyone else here talks."

Daphne leaned toward me over the salad.

"Harvey tells me you did a book about a fox," she said.

"I've done a few."

"How lovely. I do foxes too. Isn't that funny?"

Her voice carried to the whole table.

I put my fork down.

"I used to teach, you know," she said, to the room. "In London. I tell my students the oldest rule in art. Don't take what isn't yours."

Harvey's mother tilted her head.

"Oh, that's so true."

"I only mention it," Daphne said, "because it's easy to get confused. You see something beautiful, and you decide it's yours, and one day you find yourself standing in front of a hundred people holding it."

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