Chapter 5: The Certificate

The restaurant sat on the twentieth floor of a glass hotel, and every table held a candle and a bottle of wine.

Caleb wore a borrowed gray jacket over a clean shirt.

Bernard's driver had left him at the lobby doors, and a hostess in black looked at his shoes before she looked at his face.

"Reservation?" she said.

"Brannigan."

She checked the screen, and her smile came back at once.

"Right this way, sir."

Chantal had taken the corner table by the window.

She wore a white suit with her blonde hair knotted tight, and a thin gold chain rested at her collar.

She stood when she saw him.

For a second her face did something he had not expected.

It softened.

"Caleb."

"Chantal."

"You look thin."

"They don't feed you much."

She flinched, then pointed at the chair across from her.

"Please. Sit."

He sat.

A waiter filled his water glass.

Chantal turned her wine glass by the stem and did not drink.

"I owe you an apology," she said.

"This morning I was cold on the phone. I had a board call and I didn't understand it was you."

"You knew it was me."

"I did not."

"My name was on your screen."

She stopped turning the glass.

"Caleb, I swear. I did not look at the screen."

"You said yes to a man on one knee an hour before I reached the hospital."

Her mouth opened and closed.

"I saw the post," he said.

"Four hundred people liked it."

"Please don't do this," she said.

"I wanted tonight to be easy."

"For who?"

She had no answer.

On her left hand sat a ring with a stone the size of a coat button.

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