The restaurant was the kind of place that didn't have prices on the menu.
Emma had eaten at nice restaurants before — birthday dinners, her parents' anniversary, the occasional date with someone who was trying too hard — but *Caldwell's* was operating in a different category entirely. The ceilings were high and vaulted, the lighting golden and low, the tables spaced so generously apart that conversation stayed private without effort. The kind of place where business got done in the language of leisure, where the real negotiations happened between courses and nothing was written down.
Her father had been delighted when she'd agreed to come. *Plus-one, Em, it'll be fun, free food, you'll love it.* She'd told herself she was going for him — he got nervous at company functions when her mothe
