"Oh, alright. Let's go," Zachary Fairchild said, grabbing his briefcase and heading for the door.
Olivia Wynne hurried to catch up, asking in a low voice, "You're not bringing your laptop?"
"I don't need it. They have one at the old family house."
....
In the understatedly luxurious living room, Mrs. Fairchild and the elder Mrs. Fairchild sat on opposite ends of the sofa, murmuring to each other about something.
A housemaid came in from outside, practically jogging over to stand between them.
"Madam, the young master and his wife have arrived."
The smile on the elder Mrs. Fairchild's face deepened. "Is everything I asked you to prepare ready?"
The young maid, her face a picture of innocence, nodded firmly. "It's all ready."
"Good."
The elder Mrs. Fairchild had barely finished speaking when Zachary Fairchild and Olivia Wynne walked in, one after the other.
"Olivia, you're here! Come, sit with Grandma."
