The rest of the brunch ended without another word spoken across the table.

Douglas paid the check with a gold corporate card and walked with us through the carpeted lobby to the front portico.

The country club valet brought my gray sedan around the circular driveway and left the engine running.

Douglas stood on the curb and blocked my path to the driver’s door.

“I really must insist we get that paperwork sorted before Monday morning,” Douglas said.

He gave another wide, toothy smile, but his eyes turned flat and hard.