Brent put down his fork and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He then pulled Beverley to her feet. “Honey, it’s getting late. Let’s go home.”

 

Beverley didn’t know what to say. She looked at Michael guiltily, and finally, the older man sighed. “Hang on, Brent!”

 

Michael frowned at Brent, then his gaze shifted to Chris, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He picked up his cane and stood up.

 

“Can you guys sit down and have a chat?”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Chris said.

 

“Impossible.” In contrast to Chris, Brent outright refused. He was about to pull Beverley away,...