Dexter’s POVI had been thinking about this dinner since Wednesday morning.Not obsessively, I was a lawyer, I had a full caseload, I had a managing partner who sent emails at six in the morning with the cheerful energy of someone who did not believe in boundaries between professional and personal time. I had things to do and I did them. But underneath the doing of them, in the background of every meeting and brief and phone call, Friday was there. The awareness of it. The particular weight of something I had wanted to get right and now had to actually get right.I had made a reservation at a restaurant I had eaten there once, two years ago, for a quiet dinner with a colleague after a long trial at court. It was not a place designed to impress. No marble entrance, no lighting that felt like a set, no menu that required translation. It was a corner restaurant in a quieter part of the city with good food and close tables and the kind of warm noise that allowed for conversation without p
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