Chapter 5 - Setting the Table
By noon, I knew exactly how dinner would end.
The afternoon passed in a blur of methodical, almost therapeutic preparation. Despite my injuries, I moved around the grand kitchen with purpose.
I took a massive, dry-aged prime rib from the refrigerator—Evan’s favorite. I rubbed it with coarse sea salt, cracked black pepper, fresh rosemary, and garlic, pressing the seasoning into the meat with a fierce intensity.
I placed it in the oven, the rich, savory aroma soon filling the house, masking the smell of antiseptic that clung to my skin.
At three o'clock, I moved to the formal dining room.
The table was made of dark walnut, stretching fifteen feet long. I laid out the finest linen tablecloth, perfectly pressed. I brought out the silver cutlery, polishing each piece until it gleamed like a mirror.
Then, I opened the antique china cabinet and took out Richard’s favorite crystal whiskey glasses. I polished them until they caught the light of the chandelier, sparkling flawlessly.
I set the table for perfection. But I only set four places.
At five o'clock sharp, the security buzzer rang. I opened the gates, and a black town car glided up the driveway.
Miriam Cole stepped out, flanked by two senior partners from her firm, men in immaculate dark gray suits. They carried thick leather briefcases and wore expressions of professional grimness.
I greeted them at the door. Miriam took one look at the bandage on my forehead and the stiffness in my posture, and her eyes softened with sympathy. But she quickly masked it, knowing I didn't want pity.
"Everything is ready, Eleanor," she said, stepping into the foyer.
"The notary?" I asked.
"Waiting in the car outside. He will come in when it's time for signatures."
I led them to the dining room. I directed Miriam to sit at the head of the table, in the grand armchair that used to be Richard's. Her partners sat on either side of her.
"He expects a checkbook," I told them calmly. "Let him do the talking. When he realizes what is happening, he will become aggressive. Do not engage. Just read the documents."
Miriam nodded, opening her briefcase and pulling out a thick stack of legal papers, placing them squarely on the walnut table.
I walked to the sideboard, poured three glasses of sparkling water, and set them before the lawyers.
Then, I took my place at the opposite end of the table, furthest from the door. I poured myself a single glass of red wine.
The prime rib rested on a silver platter in the center, perfectly cooked, radiating heat.
We waited in silence. The grand grandfather clock in the hallway ticked off the minutes.
Five-forty-five. Five-fifty.
May you like
At exactly six o'clock, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs from the guest wing.
The trap was set. The jaws were open.
