The Dinner at East 78th Street
The teapot was not supposed to be on the table. Daniel had been clear about that: "It's a merger dinner, Grace. Western service. Crystal glasses, linen napkins, the works. No—" But Grace had already placed it there, centered on the white tablecloth like a challenge, and Daniel had looked at it, looked at her, and decided that arguing at seven o'clock on the night of the most important dinner of...
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