The candlelight crackled between them, throwing uneven light across the stone walls. Deidre had long since dozed off against the half-eaten loaf of bread, her cheek squished flat against the table.
Elian was still reeling. She wants to see Crix? Of all people... I mean, Crix is a great guy, and he's smart. But... the way he talks... It's fucking—
Didn't Jupiter once ignored him before? Why is she suddenly interested in Crix now?
The idea just didn't compute.
"So..." he started carefully, "you're telling me you want to meet Crix."
Jupiter folded her arms, eyes narrowing in mild irritation. "I said—for professional reasons. I need his help for something important.*
He nodded slowly, watching her the same way one might watch a child try to hide a knife behind their back. "Professional... Right."
Her jaw flexed, and she looked anywhere but at him. "Oh dear. You wouldn't understand."
