How could he snort at that? Room service. Coffee to their door. And the food in this place— Lyra had looked through the menu on their first night (scrolling the iPad at the neat little desk, they didn’t even need to talk to anyone, it was all done with an ap!) and exclaimed in disbelief (and a little envy) “twenty dollars for pate!? Who even likes pate?!”
But the menu had been extensive, way beyond pate. They'd skipped it all, but now... Lyra crawled tentatively to the foot of the bed to paw through the bag. That was real cash, not some kind of leprechaun gold. Real cash for their real lives and right now… It was too much for Lyra to wrap her head around. She looked at the notes in her hand and her brain just fed her back white noise.
Right now all it meant was that she could get something hot and fatty and spicy, and she could strong sweet coffee, and she could get Avery bacon and asprin, and... treats. She wanted more than anything to get him treats. So, bacon, and pancakes with the real maple syrup. And four servings of coffee cuz one each wasn't gonna cut it. And orange juice, and a Red Bull, and were strawberries good for hangovers? Fuck it, they were having a bowl of strawberries. And for her, the chilaquiles with roasted tomato salsa and Cotija cheese and grilled jalapenos and three eggs. Also chocolate cake, for later.
And if she thought about how that was all gonna cost more than a hundred then the world was gonna tip and spin a bit more than it was, so she didn't think about.
Or what people were gonna say when they got back.
Uuuurrgh, she definitely wasn't ready to think about that.
With a groan, she sank back down onto the bed with her arm thrown over her eyes. Nah that... that could wait.