Tiffany stared at her father.
“Dad?”
Roland’s gaze hardened.
“We were going to develop the property. It was an investment opportunity.”
“You told me it was sold to a farmer,” Margaret said.
“I told you what you needed to hear so the transaction would move quickly.”
The band members stood frozen beside their instruments. A waiter held a tray of untouched glasses against his chest. At the nearest table, someone quietly began recording with a phone.
Margaret heard the small click.
She did not care.
Daniel moved toward her.
“Mom, please. Let’s talk somewhere private.”
“You had months to talk somewhere private.”
“I was trying to fix this.”
“By putting my name on documents?”
“By making sure Tiffany didn’t leave me.”
Tiffany looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel faced her.
“It means I needed the money.”
“You said your mother wanted to give us everything.”
“She wanted us to have a good wedding.”
“You said the land was part of our future.”
“It was never yours.”
Tiffany’s face twisted.
“You promised me a house.”
“I promised to try.”
“You promised my father the property.”
“I never promised him anything.”
Roland stepped between them.
“This is not the place for family arguments.”
