(Aurora's POV)
Eleanor had already ordered by the time I arrived.
She waved me toward the seat across from her and gestured at the table. Roasted chicken breast with asparagus, a bowl of cream of mushroom soup, and a salad platter arranged between us.
"I hope you don't mind," she said. "Lunch rush. I didn't want us waiting forty minutes for food."
I looked at the spread and almost laughed. "This is already more than I can finish. It's perfect."
The restaurant was quiet for a Tuesday - white tablecloths, low ceilings, the kind of place that attracted the older money crowd who preferred conversation over atmosphere. Eleanor fit it exactly. She sat with her back straight and her silver hair pinned perfectly, wearing a cream blazer and heirloom earrings, looking entirely at ease.
We talk
