Graham's mother hosted an engagement dinner at her house on Saturday.
The house stood on a bluff above the bay, with pale stone walls and a long dining table that could seat fourteen. I had been there often enough to know that she liked the windows open even when the wind came off the water. The air smelled of salt and rosemary.
I almost canceled.
Then I remembered that if I stayed away, Graham could tell everyone I was overworked or upset about the wedding plans. I wanted to hear what he said when the conversation was not controlled by a conference-room agenda.
I wore the dark green dress I had bought for the dinner and left the ring in the dish beside my keys. I expected someone to ask where it was. I did not expect Graham to notice before we sat down.
He looked at my bare hand. "Yo
