Phoebe's POV
I watched Alan and Lucas share a worried glance, their discomfort obvious. Years of friendship had taught them to read each other perfectly.
Harold's face had turned stormy, his fury barely contained beneath the surface.
But with me sitting right there, he was fighting to keep his rage in check. Both Alan and Lucas understood that the longer Harold suppressed his anger, the more explosive it would be when he finally let loose.
Just as his friends seemed ready to intervene, I reached over and gave Harold's hand a gentle touch. Flashing him my most disarming smile, I murmured, "Hey, don't get worked up over this."
The ice in his expression melted instantly. "Okay, I'm fine now."
From the stunned looks on Alan's and Lucas's faces, I could tell they were thinking the same thing: 'That's it? He's calm now? Just like that?
'Since when is Harold this easy to handle?'
