There's no time to clarify with Jake.
Noel Henderson stands across the hall with Gideon, and this opportunity won't wait for jealousy management. I glance back toward where Jake was standing, ready to mouth some explanation, some promise that what he saw meant nothing.
But he's not looking at me anymore.
Two elegant socialites have descended on him like perfectly coiffed vultures. One touches his arm. The other laughs at something he hasn't even said yet. His jaw is tight, but he's not pulling away.
Perfect. He's occupied.
I force my attention back to what matters right now. Noel Henderson controls enough capital to stabilize Ward Enterprises for a decade. Gideon's been circling him all night, and I need to know why.
I approach with my shoulders back and my smile precisely calibrated.
"Mr. Henderson." I extend my hand. "I'm so pleased you could attend."
Gideon steps forward before Noel can respond, positioning himself like he owns the conversation. "Noel, I was just explaining how smoothly the transition is proceeding. Of course, I'm prepared to step in the moment things require more experienced leadership."
The implication lands exactly where he aimed it. My inadequacy. My inevitable failure.
I keep my expression pleasant. "Mr. Henderson, I wonder if I might steal you for a private word? There's something I'd love to discuss away from the noise."
Gideon's eyebrows rise. Skepticism radiates from every pore. "I'm sure whatever you need to say can be shared with—"
"It's quite all right." Noel's voice is deep, measured. The voice of a man who's spent seventy years deciding who deserves his attention. "Lead the way, Miss Ward."
We walk toward the quieter alcove near the terrace doors, and I feel myself transform with each step.
My posture softens. My smile widens into something girlish, slightly breathless. I become exactly what Noel Henderson expects to find.
"I've heard so much about you." I touch his arm lightly, let my fingers linger half a second too long. "Father always said you were the sharpest mind he'd ever encountered."
Noel's expression settles into patronizing warmth. "Richard was generous with his praise."
"I'm sure he wasn't exaggerating." I laugh at nothing, high and light. "I'm still learning so much about the business side of things. It's all rather overwhelming, honestly. So many numbers and projections."
"These matters can be complex for those without training." He pats my hand like I'm a particularly clever pet. "Your father built something remarkable. The important thing is finding capable people to manage it properly."
"Oh, absolutely." I widen my eyes. "That's why I wanted to speak with you. I know I'm probably not the person you expected to be handling all this. A girl my age, playing at running an empire."
Noel relaxes visibly. His shoulders drop. His smile turns indulgent. Another silly heiress confirmed. Another assumption validated.
I let the moment stretch.
Then I shift.
"Although I was curious." My voice sharpens, dropping the breathless quality like shedding a costume. "Your collection of astronomical texts. The Chandrasekhar first editions, specifically. Have you been following the recent developments in stellar nucleosynthesis modeling?"
Noel blinks. The patronizing smile freezes on his face.
"I've been particularly interested in the r-process frameworks." I continue without pausing. "Thomas Stewart’s paper from last quarter proposed some fascinating corrections to the neutron capture calculations. Though I think their sample size was questionable."
"You've read—" He stops. Stares at me like I've suddenly grown a second head.
"I've published in the field, actually. Three papers on stellar evolution modeling at UT Austin." I meet his eyes directly. "My thesis advisor considers my computational approaches novel enough to warrant continued research."
The transformation on his face is remarkable. Patronizing amusement dissolves into genuine shock. Then something else emerges. Interest. Real, substantive interest.
"Miss Ward." His voice has changed entirely. "You're not at all what I expected."
"I was trained to make men underestimate me." I don't smile. Don't soften. "It's useful for identifying who actually deserves my time. Now that I have your attention, perhaps we could discuss how my background in mathematical modeling applies to risk assessment and long-term strategic planning."
Noel stares at me for a long moment.
Then he laughs. Genuine. Appreciative. The sound of a man who's just discovered something valuable.
"You're the first person to surprise me in a decade." He shakes his head slowly. "Perhaps longer."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should." He straightens, and I watch him recategorize everything he thought he knew about Richard Ward's daughter. "You built that persona deliberately. The vapid heiress routine."
"Manhattan teaches you to survive with the tools available. Underestimation is a powerful weapon when you know how to wield it."
"Indeed it is." His eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Your astrophysics training. How would you apply those analytical frameworks to corporate risk modeling?"
We talk for fifteen minutes. Real conversation. Substantive exchange. He asks questions that demonstrate genuine curiosity, and I answer with the confidence of someone who's spent years building expertise that nobody bothered to notice.
By the end, he's signaling to his assistant across the room.
"Schedule a meeting with Miss Ward." He doesn't take his eyes off me. "We have much to discuss."
He shakes my hand. Firm grip. Visible respect.
"Your father underestimated you," he says quietly. "I won't make the same mistake."
I walk away feeling like I've conquered something. Like I've finally been seen for what I actually am instead of what I was designed to appear.
Zachary catches my eye from across the ballroom. His grin is broader than I've ever seen. He gives me a thumbs up, and something warm blooms in my chest.
Then I notice Jake.
At the bar. Surrounded by women. His cowboy hat tilted at that angle that makes him look impossibly attractive. He's telling them something, hands moving, and they're laughing like he's the most entertaining man they've ever met.
He's drinking. The whiskey in his glass catches the chandelier light as he raises it. Not his first drink of the evening, judging by his posture. Not his second either.
My triumph curdles into something darker.
I just won. Just proved myself to a man who could change everything for Ward Enterprises. Just demonstrated that I'm more than the decorative object Manhattan raised me to be.
And Jake is getting drunk with strangers while I fight battles he doesn't understand.
The women lean closer. One of them whispers something near his ear.
He doesn't pull away.