If I've committed a crime, let the law punish me. Let the police arrest me. Let a judge sentence me. Just don't make me call Ethan Grant my husband in front of everyone.
Ethan Grant raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, the corner of his lip twitching into a slight smirk. "That's right," he said.
He was her husband, after all. That was a fact.
The crowd: ...
'We really don't get you rich couples and your weird little games.'
Shirley Thorne's toes curled in her shoes. 'If this gets any more awkward,' she thought, 'I'm going to dig a hole with my feet and bury myself in it.'
Just then, Yvette Grant and the others came up from the bar's cellar. Seeing everyone standing frozen with dazed expressions, she asked in surprise, "What's wrong with everyone? Did something happen?"
"Nothing!"
Shirley Thorne darted past Ethan Grant and declared with feigned righteousness, "Yvette, Miss Kane, you must be tired. Let me help you set out the wine."
"Oh... there's no need..."
