The chandelier hummed overhead.
Joyce sat across from Franz. The smile she gave him was smaller now — less performance, more person. The smile of someone who'd been running interference for two hours and was finally allowed to stop.
Yosef was still at the sideboard. Two fingers of the gifted whiskey. He hadn't moved back to the table.
Julian stayed in his chair. Gio at the far end, watching.
The door to the study was closed down the hall. No sound came through it. No sound came from anywhere except the hedges scraping the windows and the low electric buzz of the light.
"She'll be fine in there," Joyce commented.
"I know," Franz replied.
A beat. She looked at him — really looked, not the charming curiosity from lunch.
"Does it bother you? Being left out here."
"No."
"Some men find that hard. When the woman they married doesn't need them in the room."
