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“No, Miss Stratiss.” Jayd stiffened, the opalescence of her own gaze glimmering with ire. “You did not think, and that is why—”
I stepped forward, damn near desperately. “With all due respect of my own,”—a peacekeeper was necessary, right this second—“Ambyr has some good points.” If only said diplomat didn’t feel like the gladiator thrown to the lionesses. “Seeing you and your brothers in fully shiny mode, making Arcadia look great to the world, will make everyone feel more secure and ready to move on from all this mess.” I turned from Jayd’s silent pout, to confront Ambyr’s preening one. “And if you want this thing to score a few more points on the citizens’ approval scale, invite a few of them up the hill for the night, to rub shoulders with the Cimarrons in person. Have Camellia give them a walking tour of the Palais. It’ll be like what Jackie O did for America in the 60’s, only a lot more fun.”
A blink-blink from Jayd.
Another set from Ambyr.
An excited spatter of applause—from the woman in the bed.
“Oh, Lucy. I love all those ideas!” Crista jabbed an awkward thumb in the air, wincing a little as all the medical tape pulled at her arm hair. “Kick ass!”
I openly laughed. The woman’s stabs at my slang were worth another round of blink-blinks from the others, though those never came. Apparently, the lionesses were still circling and hungry for blood.
Perhaps it was time to just get the hell out of the ring.
“Right now, it’s time to kick my little ass into the ladies room.” I stood, giving Crista an encouraging hand squeeze. “I’ll be right back. Maybe I’ll find that cute doctor and ask him where the hell your discharge papers are.”
Crista flashed a Christmas-is-coming grin. “Kicking ass yet again, Miss Fava.”
*
My excuse hadn’tbeen a lie. The morning’s coffee had caught up, so I was grateful to find the restroom down the hall and take care of business—
Only to finish up, and have my business given back to me.
More correctly, shoved so hard against the wall, my breath escaped in an astonished gust.
I was so stunned I looked down first, instead of up—
At the hand with the flawless manicure, still pinning me like a butterfly to a science board. Several feet below that, a pair of ice-blue flats were planted on the tile.
I jerked my head up, narrowing a what-the-fuck glare.
Ambyr didn’t give me the chance to utter a syllable of it.
“Follow. Me.” The seethe in her tone brooked no dissention—not that I would’ve allowed her to rip me apart here, less than ten feet from people recuperating from the various traumas courtesy of a six-feet-plus storm surge. When we were private, she could tear away. I shook my head, saddened that I already expected no less.
At the end of a short breezeway, the building opened up to a small courtyard. The major debris had been cleared from the benches and tables, but most of the planters would need to be dug up and repotted. The flowers and shrubs had been decimated. If I were picking out a new look, I’d think of installing an herb garden. The space looked like it’d get plenty of afternoon sunshine, and—
But that choice wasn’t mine. And never would be.
Filling me with even deeper sadness.
Which, maybe not so weirdly, I channeled into a fresh sense of peace as Ambyr led the way across the flagstones.
Finally, she spun back around. Clack. Clack. Planted her stance, ready for confrontation, just as she had back in the hallway. Her stare had bypassed lioness, going straight for she-dragon. Her lips were a twist of deep crimson. Her chest was a furious pump, up-and-down against the confines of her tailored blue linen.
“Miss Stratiss.” I spread my arms. “What can I do for you?”
“Do? For me?” For a second, I wondered if she’d go full catty-whomper bitch with it, splicing in a cackling laugh, but pushed the mental delete as soon as it occurred. Ambyr wasn’t a cackler. She took her shit seriously. It might only be glued onto construction paper pages, but every damn corner was sealed and secured. “What you can do is not do anything else, Miss Fava,” she finally added. “Most especially the man who will be proposing to me this Saturday night.”
