Julian takes a seat to the left of me, and Mom and Dad sit down across from us.

“Come, sit next to me on this side,” I tell Rosa, patting the empty chair to my right. I can see my friend still doesn’t feel comfortable, convinced she’s somehow imposing. Her usual bright smile is uncertain and a bit shy as she sits down next to me, smoothing her palms over the front of her blue dress.

“This table is amazing, Mrs. Leston,” she says in her softly accented voice.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” My mom beams at her. “Your English is so good. Where did you learn to speak like that? Nora told me you’ve never been to the US before.”

“No, I haven’t.” Looking pleased at the compliment, Rosa explains how Julian’s mother taught her American English when she was a child. My parents listen to her story with interest, asking a number of follow-up questions, and I use this opportunity to excuse myself to visit the restroom.

When I return a few minutes later, the atmosphere at the table is thick with tension. The only person who appears at ease is Julian, who’s leaning back in his chair and regarding my parents with an inscrutable gaze. My dad is visibly bristling, and my mom has her hand on his elbow in a classic calming gesture. Poor Rosa looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.

I sit down and debate asking what happened, but I have a feeling it would stir up the hornet’s nest even more. “How’s the new job going, Dad?” I ask brightly instead.

My dad takes a deep breath, then another, and attempts something that’s supposed to be a smile. It looks more like a grimace, but I give him credit for trying.

Before he can answer my question, Julian leans forward, placing his forearms on the table, and says, “Tony, you may not be aware of this, but your daughter is now one of the wealthiest women in the world. She will want for nothing, regardless of her choice of profession or lack thereof. I understand that having a child during college is not optimal, but I would hardly call it ‘destroying her life,’ particularly in this situation.”

My dad’s chest swells with fury. “You think the child is the only problem? You stole—”

“Tony.” My mom’s voice is soft, but the inflection in it makes Dad stop mid-sentence. She then turns toward Julian. “I apologize for my husband’s bad manners,” she says evenly. “Obviously, we’re well aware of your ability to provide for Nora financially.”

“Good.” Julian gives her a cool smile. “And are you also aware that Nora is becoming a sought-after artist?”

I pause in the middle of reaching for a lamb chop and gape at Julian. A sought-after artist? Me?

“I know that a gallery in Paris expressed some interest in her paintings,” my mom says cautiously. “Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.” Julian’s smile sharpens. “What you may not know, however, is that the owner of that gallery is one of the leading art collectors in Europe. And he’s very intrigued by Nora’s work. So intrigued, in fact, that he just sent me an offer to purchase five of her paintings for his personal collection.”