It happened on a Saturday in December, the week before the Christmas gathering.The Christmas gathering was an annual thing at the penthouse—Alexander had mentioned it in passing, the way he mentioned things that were obligatory rather than desired, with the particular flatness of someone who had learned to perform social rituals without expecting to enjoy them. The board comes, some of the foundation people, a few colleagues from the firm. It's not a party, exactly. It's a thing I host because it's expected. Elijah had said he'd come, and Alexander had said good in the tone that meant I'm glad you'll be there so I don't have to do it alone, and that had been the extent of the planning.But before the Christmas gathering, there was the Saturday dinner.They'd been planning to go to a restaurant in the West Village—not Eleanor's, a different one, a place that Elijah had mentioned the previous Tuesday as somewhere he wanted to try. A new chef, good reviews, the kind of cooking that was
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