“Mm, hmm,” Alicia nodded shortly, and suddenly found an immense need to taste her cake, hoping that the sweetness would chase away the stinging memory of his harsh words and the fact that he didn’t really accept her decisions and the memories of things she was dead set on pretending had never happened.
Carefully, she licked a crumb off her lip, and washed the cake down with a sip of coffee. Bitter and sweet. Perfect. So, Percy didn’t to talk about his work, and Alicia didn’t want to talk about Oliver, which left just a little off balance for a couple of moments. “Any real news in the Prophet?” she tried, an attempt to get back on a more safe topic of conversation.