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“Romi is—”
“What kind of a name is Romi?” Kiera knew she was being mean, but
she couldn’t help it. She was exhausted, filthy, and incredibly hangry. She
hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and it was now pushing five. Her
blood sugar was turning her into a raging monster.
“Ramona, actually. She said she doesn’t like it. Prefers Romi. I think
that’s perfectly normal. You were just saying a few days ago how much you
disliked old names and thought that the new trend of picking really strange
names was awesome.”
“Whatever. Fine. Alright, sorry. Her name doesn’t matter. I just need a
freaking sandwich.”
“I know.” Wynn grinned at her, because he knew all about her. He’d been
a friend of her grandparents and parents. He’d watched her grow up. He
was the grandfather she never had, because both of her sets of grandparents
had passed away before she was even born.
Kiera pretended to be busy inspecting something on her desk in the vast
office. Of course, everything in the place was about as antique as it got.
Huge oak desk. Even bigger upholstered chair, two epic lamps, once with
beads hanging from the glass shade, the other the token gold base and green
shade combo. She had a variety of other objects in there that she never
used, but just liked the look of—antique typewriters, a magnifying glass, an
antique stamp machine, an ancient stapler that hardly looked like a stapler
at all. She liked making people guess what it was because it was so strange
looking that stapler was always the last guess, if it came out at all. The rest
of the square space was filled up with vintage oil paintings in all sorts of
sizes and frames, and random knickknacks that were rare and strange. Kiera
changed it up often. Things eventually made their way out to the floor for
sale when she found something new to clutter up the shelves, corners, walls,
and her leftover desk space.
She leaned against the ancient gold radiator behind her desk. It served no
