“You Simply Don’t Understand Our World,” My Daughter’s Fiancé Smirked At The Engagement Party. I Didn’t Argue. I Just Smiled… And Made One Call To My Lawyer. Within Days, He Lost His Biggest Client. He Learned Too Late Who I Really Was.

Traditional code for old working class, not trendy. “It’s home,” I said. “We raised Emma there.

Good schools, good neighbors.”

Derek chose that moment to signal the waiter. “Let’s order, shall we? Robert, Patricia—the tasting menu here is exceptional.

Seven courses, each one better than the last.”

He didn’t ask me if I wanted the tasting menu. Just assumed. The waiter appeared and Derek ordered for the table with the confidence of someone who’d never had to check the right side of a menu.

As the first course arrived—some kind of foam with micro greens that looked like it had been assembled with tweezers—the conversation shifted to the wedding. “We’re thinking the Royal Canadian Yacht Club,” Dererick announced. “Late June, perhaps.

Outdoor ceremony, if weather permits.”

Emma’s eyes were shining. She’d always wanted a summer wedding. Sarah and I got married at city hall with two witnesses and went to Swiss Chile afterward.

It was perfect for us, but I wanted more for Emma. “That sounds beautiful,” I said to her. Not to Derek.

To her. “It’ll be quite the event,” Patricia added. “We’re expecting around 200 guests.

Dererick’s colleagues from Thornon, our friends from Vancouver, Robert’s business associates.”

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