Daphne’s pov
“I’m guessing you don’t talk much,” he said in a calm, friendly tone. I smiled at him.
“I’m really sorry for ruining your shirt—and I’d love to pay for it,” I said, returning his smile.
He grinned warmly. “Your smile alone is enough for me. But I do want to know you better.”
“Mrs. Harrington,” I replied softly.
“Harrington, you say? You aren’t the wife of Miles Harrington, are you?” he asked with a teasing lilt, and I couldn’t help but smile wider.
“Yes, he is my husband,” I answered, though a part of me wanted to leave immediately. The message from Reynold still haunted me—I didn’t feel safe here.
Before I could make my move, he reached out. “Can I get your number?” he asked. I found his request unexpected, so I didn’t answer. Instead, I carefully walked away from the
