“No, I think he forgot,” I tell her. We are lying on lounge chairs by the pool side, sipping from a glass of Daniel’s champagne. I am not much of a drinker but I think today calls for it.
“But how could he forget? It doesn’t sound like Daniel.”
“Well, he does have a lot going on for him at work right now,” I explain, trying to find an explanation that would make me feel better than my husband had forgotten my birthday. “He’s making all these changes to the publishing house. Did I tell you, he found out that the accountant had been swindling money from the company? No wonder Mr. Cather wasn’t making much by way of profit.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying something about it.”
“Plus, there was a fire at his hotel. Thank God it wasn’t really serious but the police think it’s arson.”
“So you
