Gina quickly pulled Zeb to sit beside him, "You're finally here, Mr. Larkin. Come, sit."

Cindy and Peter also promptly served him drinks and cigarettes, a privilege Frank never had.

Gina turned to Henry right then. "It's all thanks to Mr. Larkin that we can celebrate your birthday here. You should appreciate him more.”

"And you can shove it," Henry snorted impatiently. "I never asked for this—the way I see it, it would have been far better if there wasn't a party at all.”

"Oh, would you stop it? We'd be the ones seen in a bad light if we didn't do anything,” Gina lectured.

Frank was frowning in turn.

He knew a thing or two about Riverton Hotel, and he doubted Zeb had the authority to pull strings. "Did he really book this hall?" he asked suspiciously.

"Who else would have, if not him? You?" Peter shot back.

"The Chief of General Affairs’ secretary came to visit us personally. What, are you jealous?" Cindy joined in.

"The Chief of General Affairs’ secretary? Do you have his name?" Frank pressed.

"So what if we don't?" Gina stood akimbo, the picture of smugness. "Who could pull strings with the Gerald Simmons aside from Mr. Larkin?"

"Oh, stop it. It's not that big of a deal.” Zeb threw up his hands in feigned humility.

Frank turned toward him. "I say, could you tell me more about what you discussed with Mr. Simmons?"

Zeb froze, not expecting Frank to press the issue.

Averting his eyes, he snapped impatiently, "Why should I tell you?"

As he lit himself a cigarette and breathed a puff without a care, Henry waved off the smoke since he hated the smell.

Seeing that Henry was having a hard time, Frank promptly snapped at Zeb, "Snuff out that cigarette. Gramps doesn't like breathing your fumes.”

Gina glared at him right then and snapped, "Shut up!"

Frank simply bellowed, "Snuff it out! Don't make me do it for you on Gramps' birthday."

Zeb froze again, feeling a chill from Frank's icy glare.

Peter, however, thought nothing of it and was going to argue when Zeb stopped him. "That's alright. I'll snuff my cigarette, as long as it keeps Mr. Lane happy."

Frank's icy glare only eased when Zeb extinguished his cigarette, but Zeb was glaring at him in turn. "Don't push your luck, brat. I'm just holding back because of Mr. Lane.”

"Exactly," Gina quickly said. "Don't stoop to his level, Mr. Larkin... Also, your present looks so pretty. I wonder what's inside?"

Zeb remembered with a start—he almost forgot all about that.

He quickly put his present on the table, smiling at Henry as he said, "Mr. Lane, I heard from Helen that you like antiques, so I got you something dating back a hundred years ago from the antique bazaar. I hope you like it."

Henry was finally slightly interested when he heard the word antique’, only for Zeb to open the present and reveal a porcelain vase.

Gina promptly leapt in to shower flattery. "Oh, that's exquisite! How much does it cost?"

"Oh, just a mil," Zeb bragged smugly. "It's not much, really."

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