Chapter 138: A Question About Clara's Boyfriend

"Of course."

"Claire, you're too kind." Diane took the gift box and casually placed it on the coffee table.

Claire Porter's lips curved slightly. "It's a solid gold bracelet. If you don't like the design, you can always exchange it at Golden Thread Pavilion."

Denise's eyes lit up. "My, Claire is so generous—giving solid gold right away..."

"Don't tease me, Denise," Claire smoothed her hair. "Diane has seen all the finest things. This is just a small token."

"Why only prepare something for Diane?" Denise said with a half-joking smile. "As a bank president dealing with high-profile clients daily, you should understand basic social etiquette."

Claire arched an eyebrow. "Do you want one too?"

Denise's smile didn't waver. "Who wouldn't want a gold bracelet? Don't you agree, Helen?"

Their gazes simultaneously turned to Helen.

Helen pressed her lips together.

"Why so quiet?"

Daniel Whitmore intervened smoothly. "She doesn't wear much jewelry. The pieces I've given her are all stored away."

Denise internally scoffed—country folk had no taste, not even appreciating gold.

"If Helen doesn't want it, I'll take it!" Denise said shamelessly. "Claire, you can't play favorites."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Just host a dinner party sometime—I'm sure you'll get your return gift."

Denise's expression froze.

Her small apartment couldn't accommodate so many people.

"If your place is too small, book a few tables at a hotel," Claire said, voicing her unspoken concern.

Denise: "..."

At least three tables would be needed at a high-end hotel.

A single gold bracelet wouldn't even cover the cost.

"Oh, I was just joking," Denise forced a laugh. "Claire took me seriously."

Claire snorted.

"It's already two o'clock—aren't we eating?" Denise changed the subject.

The atmosphere grew even more tense.

The matriarch's face darkened. "Did you skip breakfast? Are you that hungry?"

Denise was rendered speechless.

Clara watched coldly, glancing at the clock. Making everyone wait this late either meant genuine busyness or deliberate posturing...

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the second floor.

"Why hasn't dinner started?"

Raymond Harrow descended the stairs in a polo shirt and casual pants. Though his figure had filled out, his handsome features remained.

Denise rolled her eyes discreetly: Who dared start without you?

Diane hurried over. "We wanted to begin earlier, but everyone insisted on waiting for you—"

"Wait for me?" Raymond frowned. "Let our parents go hungry?"

"I..." Diane floundered.

The matriarch immediately came to her defense. "We chose to wait. Isn't family reunion the point of holidays?"

Claire chimed in: "Don't blame Diane, Raymond. Eating later won't hurt anyone."

Raymond's expression softened slightly. "Let's eat then."

At the dining table, Denise's gaze shifted. "Clara, didn't your boyfriend come home with you for the holidays?"