Page 115 of The Turning of the Tables

I drained the last of the cup, grimacing a little at the grit of un-dissolved sugar, then added three packets before pouring more coffee into the classic white diner mug.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late!” Quincy slid into the chair across from me.

I smiled at her, settling my mug between my hands. “No worries. How are you?”

She grimaced. “Aaron is having an existential crisis.”

“What about?” I asked her.

“Hesaysit’s nothing,” she informed me, putting three sugars in her cup followed by am Irish Creme-flavored creamer and then adding coffee. “But I’m pretty sure it’s actually the whole Arcana thing.”

“The fact that you had it?” I asked.

Quincy frowned. “I can’t tell,” she admitted. “It might be that, but it might also be the fact that my job isn’t as safe as he always assumed it would be.”

I felt my eyebrows rise. “We work in crime investigation,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but we’re not cops,” she said. “We aren’t usually in the line of fire—we just come in after the messy part is over.”

I snorted. “Usually, yeah,” I agreed. “But unfortunately not always.”

She pulled a face. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” she said. “How’s it going with your long-distance hunk?”

I laughed. “I don’t know that ‘hunk’ is the right word,” I told her.

“He’s not hunky?”

It was my turn to make a face. “‘Hunk’ implies a kind ofbrainless, gym-rat kind of physique that he definitely doesn’t have,” I told her.

“Not muscley?”

“Not that kind of muscley,” I said. “He has the kind you get from throwing around heavy furniture and building things, not the kind you get from lifting weights.”

“Even better,” Quincy remarked, and I nodded my agreement before taking another sip of my coffee. “So how are things with you, then?”

I shrugged, setting my mug back on the table. “They’re the same,” I said. “I just… It doesn’t seem like a good idea to try to start anything from a thousand miles away. Noah is here, you’re here, and he lives there.”

“And he wouldn’t move out here? You said he knew Hart.”

I shrugged again. “I think his family is from there.” I’d not gotten the impression from Elliot that he would be at all interested in moving, especially halfway across the country. Even if Hart did live here.

“And you wouldn’t think about moving there?” she asked me.

I blinked. “It hadn’t even occurred to me,” I admitted. “Noah’s here.”

“Noah has a… partner, right?”

I nodded, my lips twisting a little. Lulu wasn’t my favorite person. “Yeah, Lulu.”

“You don’t like Lulu?”

“Lulu’s okay,” I hedged. “Noah could probably do better, though.”

Quincy snorted. “Aaron could do better, too,” she said. “But he says he doesn’t wantbetter, he wantsme.” She let out a laugh. “I’m still not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

I chuckled. “I’d take it as a compliment. Better all around that way.”

She grinned at me, but then the server came over to take our order. French toast with blueberries (for me) and biscuits and gravy (Quincy) requested, Quincy grinned at me again.