As he spoke about university, Luna poured out a glass of pomegranate juice and slid it across the marble.
“I work for Ava and her husband,” Luna said, her tone certainly casual but very intentionally bringing up the existence of Hermes. She picked up the board now covered in food and took it over to the couches beside the big open windows, the cold city stretching out before them. She put it down on the coffee table. “I’m their personal assistant.”