“Let’s go back to the cottage patio,” I said.

By one o’clock the sun was sitting warm over the patio of the rented wooden cottage above the cove.

Theo set out two ceramic plates, a bowl of yellow plums and two grilled fish sandwiches on the cedar table.

A thick legal folder lay next to my plate, its blue paper cover held shut with a heavy steel clip.

Nora had sent thirty-four pages of partnership agreements by priority courier that morning, setting up our new independent design studio.

“The state filing needs three signatures on page twenty-eight,” Theo said, passing me a little dish of lemons.