"Is all this really necessary?" Jenny asked, leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded as she watched Asher meticulously style his hair. He was dressed in a crisp black long-sleeve shirt and matching trousers, looking far too put-together for what was supposed to be a simple conversation with Maria.
"Am I imagining it, or are you starting to sound like my wife?" he asked, catching her eye in the mirror with an amused smirk.
Jenny's frown deepened. "You wish."
He shrugged with infuriating nonchalance. "I'm going somewhere else afterward," he said finally, slipping his hands into his pockets as he turned to face her, clearly ready to leave. The fever that had plagued him that morning was completely gone—apparently, some healing hands and rest were all he'd needed.
"Where?" she asked, tilting her head with curiosity.
He gave her a flat, unreadable stare.
