"Go downstairs," she told him. "You promised those people you'd be there."
"I promised them a room and a chance to support a good cause. Lena is giving them both."
"You promised to speak."
"I can send a message in the morning. Tonight I'd rather sit here and make sure the green dragon survives."
Claire looked at him, trying to decide whether to argue. Then she laughed, and this time the laughter stayed. She handed him a clean sheet of blotting paper and instructed him to place it beneath the picture. He obeyed with exaggerated care, holding his hands above the table like a surgeon preparing for an operation.
For the next twenty minutes they worked in companionable silence. The city shone through the rain-streaked windows, and the reception continued on the floor below. Claire told him what Jonah had said about winning a stuffed dragon at the school fair, and Daniel asked whether the hospital could arrange a small fair of its own if Jonah remained admitted. They began discussing games that could be played from a wheelchair or a hospital bed, quietly building a plan instead of returning to the argument that had consumed the lobby.
Later, when the drawings were spread safely across the table, Claire touched the ring on her finger. Daniel noticed and took her hand. He could see where the skin near the band was still tender, and his face tightened. "Did he hurt you there?"
"He grabbed my hand and accused me of stealing it. He wanted to know whether the stone was fake."
Daniel looked at the ring. It was an ordinary gold band with a small blue stone, bought before the success of Whitmore Hospitality, before the investment funds and awards and expensive suits. He remembered saving for it while working long hours and worrying that Claire would be disappointed because it did not look like the engagement rings in store windows. She had worn it every day since their wedding.
"I told you we could replace that stone," he said quietly.
"And I told you I don't want a different stone."
"I remember."
"He wanted it to prove something about me. That's the part I can't get over. Even my wedding ring had to pass his little test."
Daniel held her hand without touching the bruised place. He thought about the young woman who had married him when he owned a borrowed car and had an apartment whose radiator made noises through the night. He thought about how often people assumed she lived in his shadow because she refused to turn their marriage into publicity. Graham had seen only an inconvenient stranger, not knowing that the ring he mocked was a witness to everything Daniel valued most.
"Tomorrow," Daniel said, "we'll look at the hotel properly. Not because of your name, but because what happened to you tells us how people have been treated here."