Page 85 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

Rafe inclined his head. “I appreciate your willingness to discuss this.”

“I appreciate,” Dr. Sorel said, “that Ms. Bradley appears to understand the distinction between pressure and persuasion.”

Rafe glanced at me again.

There was something in his eyes I didn’t know what to do with.

Respect, yes. But warmer than that. More personal. Like he was seeing not merely a useful intern or a clever opportunist, but someone he hadn’t yet found the right category for.

Which was inconvenient because I had no category for him either.

Miriam squeezed her wife’s hand. “See? That wasn’t so terrible.”

“It was mildly terrible,” Dr. Sorel said.

“But productive.”

Dr. Sorel turned to her wife. “You were right.”

“I do enjoy that sentence.”

“I know.”

“Say it again later.”

“In private.”

“Fine. But with feeling.”

Dr. Sorel’s mouth curved into a genuine smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet beloved.”

“Yes,” Dr. Sorel said. “And yet.”

For some reason, that undid me a little.

I didn’t cry in the middle of a gala alcove, but something in my chest pulled tight. Miriam and Georgiana were so clearly different, so obviously mismatched on paper in ways certain people probably never stopped noticing. High society polish and bright warmth. Institutional power and accessible design. Severe black gown and cobalt sleeves. Process and instinct.

But they had a system: a word that meant, Come back to me, and a way to interrupt harm before it hardened into habit.

I’d never thought much about relationships like that. Not because I didn’t want one, necessarily, but because wanting required time and space, and those were two things I didn’t have.

Still, seeing their obvious love for each other was wonderful. Not perfect. Better than perfect, maybe. Solid.

Dr. Sorel turned back to Rafe. “Elaine will coordinate the details. If you send the materials by nine tomorrow, I’ll have time to review before Friday.”

“You’ll have them by eight,” Rafe said.

Her gaze shifted to me. “Ms. Bradley, I assume you will be present Friday?”

Rafe answered before I could say anything. “She will be.”

My heart gave a foolish, excited little flutter.

Dr. Sorel nodded once, as if that settled it. “Good.”

The string quartet was playing a slow, romantic piece, and couples were beginning to drift onto the dance floor. Miriam gave her wife an imploring look.