But this had been more like a summons than an invitation, and Rupert had been firm about Julie’s attendance as well. “The Gustafsons would like her to be there too,” was all he could, or would, say.

“Whatever his pitch is, you’d better say yes,” Julie told him, ladling yogurt dressing onto her salad, “or poor Rupert is liable to disintegrate right in front of us.”

“Well, you know, he has a tough job,” Gideon said charitably.

Back at the table, Rupert turned the wine list over to Bruno, who proved unpretentiously knowledgeable. A bottle of St. Emilion and another of Oregon Pinot Gris were chosen to go with the main course, the black-tied waitress was sent on her way, and business was gotten down to.

“I’ll bet you’ve been trying to figure out why we asked Rupert to bring you two along today,” Bruno said.

“Not at all,” Gideon said. “It’s nice to be invited.”

“Well, we have a proposition to make. Rupert, you listen up too.”

Rupert listened up.

“What we have in mind, Gideon-why don’t you explain it, hon?”

“Sure,” Bea said. “We’d like you-”

“We being the Horizon Foundation,” Bruno said. “I’m on the board, you know.”

“We’d like you,” Bea said again, “to be part of a project-”

“This has been in the planning stages for over a year,” Bruno said.

“Honey,” Bea sang, “if you want to explain it, go right ahead.”

“No, no, you go ahead.”

“All right, then.” She waited a moment to see if he meant it, then went on. “The foundation is going to do a documentary-”

“You’re going to like this,” Bruno got in, then flinched back into his chair under the force of Bea’s scowl and let her finish.