The farewell dinner was set at one of Manhattan's most elegant Brazilian steakhouses, a place of dark wood, warm lighting, and the constant, mouth-watering scent of fire-roasted meat drifting through the air. The reservation was under Rayleigh's name; a private room is included.
"You two have been planning this from the start, haven't you?!" Isabelle shrieked the moment they were led into the private room, her voice pitching high with disbelief and laughter.
The room is spacious, with warm-toned wood and soft golden lighting, long enough to comfortably seat fifteen people. A long table dominated the center, already set with polished cutlery, folded napkins, and glasses catching the light. The scent of grilled meat lingered in the air, rich and mouthwatering, unmistakably Brazilian barbecue.
Isabelle stopped short.
