“No. I’m just watching the news.” I hadn’t looked away. I was absorbed in the intricacies of the relationship between the two countries.
She staggered to the kitchen. “Thank God there’s coffee.”
I
nodded absently.
“Oh, it’s the king?” She sat next to me with a steaming mug.
I didn’t respond.
“What are they saying?” she asked.
“Trade meetings. Sugar taxes. That kind of thing.” I acted as if the details of trade tax bored me. And under any other circumstance, it did.
“Oh?” She lifted the mug to her lips. “I didn’t know you were interested in Galona politics.” I saw the smirk behind the coffee mug.
“There’s nothing wrong with taking interest in the country that is currently our home.” I felt defensive. As if I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t.
“Mmmhmm. And it happens that the king is hot as fuck.”
“Brooklyn.” I eyed her.
“You’re not going to tell me anything? Really?”
“We can’t.”
She huffed. “You’re not serious about the contract. I was planning on telling you, anyway.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Mol, it’s not like security from The Titan is going to break in here and arrest us. It’s us. We can tell each other anything we want. Screw them.”
The news cut away to the weather. I didn’t know how long it would be until the press conference. I needed to stop procrastinating and focus on my notecards. I was losing time. I turned the TV off.
“You’re not going to watch?” She looked surprised.
“It doesn’t matter. I have work to do. We both knew what we signed up for. That night is over, and talking about it doesn’t get me any closer to completing my dissertation.”
“I wish you would stop being practical and just admit that you had fun and that something might have happened.” Her eyebrows rose.
“It’s not worth talking about. I’m going to the library.”
I scooped the cards off the couch and shoved them in a bag. I couldn’t stay in the apartment and deal with her prodding. I couldn’t deal with the temptation to turn on the TV again and watch the press conference, hoping for a glance of Damon. His Royal Highness, I mentally corrected myself.
“Mol, come on. Don’t leave.”
I grabbed the keys from the hook next to the door and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Hope you have a good day. Maybe you’ll see a job posting you like.”
She rolled her eyes and I locked the door behind me.
The library would be quiet. No TV. No phones. And no traces of the king.
Fifteen
Damon
The lodestar was detailed. Sutcliffe had included more information than I asked for. I sat behind my desk, reading the details of Molly Washington’s life. There were posts from her social media accounts. Copies of her transcripts.