“That will look magnificent on his website banner,” Eleanor said, settling back into her chair without looking my way.

She picked up her linen napkin and smoothed it across her lap.

“Where’s the bread basket?” Eleanor asked the empty air.

I stood up from the table, my dress uniform coat heavy against my chest.

“I’m going outside,” I said.

Nobody at the table asked me to stay.

The heavy glass door of the restaurant closed behind me with a muffled thud.

At half past seven, the gravel in the back parking lot crunched under my black leather oxfords.