They didn’t even make it out the door until past one o’clock. May had put some makeup on, having agreed to at least meet the brother, and Sally-Anne teased her incessantly for it. Then they roared away on the Triumph, not slowing even once before coming to a screeching halt in front of the Baltimore Country Club.
The valet raised his eyebrows, admiring both the bike and its riders. The doorman bowed extra low for Sally-Anne, and May watched with surprise at the respect she was shown at every turn, totally in awe of the opulent surroundings. An elegant ma?tre d’ popped up to accompany the two women, and they continued down lavishly decorated corridors beneath portraits of high-society men in ornate gilded frames, until they at last entered the dining room. The ma?tre d’ led them to the Stanfield table—reserved year-round exclusively for the family—where Sally-Anne’s brother, Edward, sat waiting. He sighed as his sister approached, not even bothering to look up from his newspaper.
“Late as usual. Vintage Sally-Anne.”
“Nice to see you, too,” she replied.
Edward looked up at last and noticed May hovering behind his sister. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh, she’s quite capable of introducing herself, believe it or not,” Sally-Anne replied coolly.
Edward rose to his feet and bowed, kissing May’s hand. She smiled, blushing at the old-fashioned greeting, and fought hard not to burst out laughing. The silky-smooth etiquette was jarring compared to how he had greeted his sister. And yet, May had to admit, she found the chivalry sweet.
“I’ll duck out and let you two catch up,” May said, embarrassed.
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Edward said. “Please join us, we’d be delighted. Besides, who knows? With a bit of luck, having you here might help keep the lunchtime fisticuffs at bay.” Grinning playfully, he pulled out a chair for her.
“Wow, is it really that bad between you two?” asked May.
“Like oil and water,” Sally-Anne said.
“The pair of you are behaving like children, you know. You should be grateful instead of acting like spoiled brats. I used to wish I had a brother.”
“Not this one, sweetheart.” Sally-Anne sighed. “Believe me!”
“Jab at me all you like, you’re just going to make your friend more uncomfortable.” Still smiling, Edward leaned in and studied them closely. “So, what exactly are you two ladies up to? It must be salacious, considering this is the very first I’ve heard of you.”
“Why would you have heard of her?” Sally-Anne asked. “Are you trying to tell me you people still actually sit around discussing me? I thought my name hadn’t even been uttered inside that house in ages.”
“You thought wrong, dear sister. You’d know, if you actually deigned to visit your own family from time to time.”
“Nice try, but I’m not buying it.”
May cleared her throat, coughing into her own hand.
“We’re business partners,” she began, stopping abruptly as she received a sharp kick from Sally-Anne under the table.
“Partners?” repeated Edward.
“In a manner of speaking; we work in the same department,” Sally-Anne corrected.
“Don’t tell me you’re still at the Sun?” Edward scoffed.
“And where else would I be?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question. Considering I heard you quit the paper at the start of summer.”
“Well, you heard wrong,” May interjected. “Your sister has made herself indispensable in the newsroom. As a matter of fact, she might even get bumped up to reporter one of these days.”
“Imagine that! I certainly didn’t mean to spread unfounded rumors. That’s very impressive. And how about you, May? What do you do at the Sun?”
The meal quickly shifted into a getting-to-know-you session as Edward peppered May with endless questions. Sally-Anne was unbothered by her brother’s curiosity. At the very least, May was drawing attention away from her, thus sparing Sally-Anne a considerable amount of scrutiny and drivel. Sally-Anne wasn’t fooled at all by these quarterly lunches with Edward; she knew that they were intel-gathering missions for the Stanfield clan. Edward was a dirty little mole, a double agent working for their mother. After all, Hanna Stanfield had far too much pride for a face-to-face investigation into her daughter’s “decadent lifestyle.” Hence the convenient coincidence that every time Sally-Anne came to the country club, the Stanfield matriarch was nowhere to be found, a marked break from her daily routine.
As Edward motioned to a waiter for more coffee, he casually asked if May was fond of the theater. A renowned company would be premiering Harold Pinter’s Betrayal in Baltimore the following evening, hot on the heels of a New York run that had wowed critics and audiences. “It is an absolute masterpiece, an experience not to be missed under any circumstances,” Edward declared. He explained that a friend had given him tickets for a pair of amazing seats at the premiere, but he had no one to accompany him.