"Benjamin, happy birthday!" Ophelia raised her brows playfully, her voice light and melodious. Just at the right moment, she slipped her arm from Waldo's and gave Benjamin a warm embrace. Then, with a teasing smile, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
A hearty laugh burst from Benjamin's chest—loud and clear, cutting through the ballroom's lingering tension.
Just as the guests whispered questions about what sort of connection the famous pianist Westin had with Benjamin, the old man beamed with delight, gripping Ophelia's hand.
"You little minx! You show up and don't even come greet me first, hmm?" he said with exaggerated indignation.
Ophelia pouted. "Did you come to see me?"
"You cheeky girl!" Benjamin huffed, blowing out his mustache in mock outrage. "I'm an old man—you should be showing me some respect!"
"Old man? Wait, really?" Ophelia blinked innocently. "That's strange—I thought you were only a tiny bit older than me."
