"If you honestly think I'm stupid enough to believe you have no more tricks up your sleeve or 'strings to pull', as you so put it, then you can turn right around and figure out some other clever way to get your message delivered. There's actually this great invention that delivers things like messages to people without ever having to meet them. It's called email."
"And for the record, I'm not your dear. I'm not your sweet and I'm certainly not your love." Royce's, maybe, but not his. NO! No, I'm not Royce's... I mean, I his girlfriend, and all, but I'm not supposed to be... not yet, anyway... "I'm not even sure I trust you, because you've given me more than enough opportunities to be legitimately pissed off, and I'm not keen on repeating the joyful experience of giving my boyfriend a heart attack."
Not when she felt like she was walking on thin ice as it was. Not when she felt constantly in danger of losing the person she loved, or at least hoped she loved. Yes, Crowne did happen to catch her at an extremely difficult time.
Feeling frustrated, Charlie unlocked the door, and stepped outside, forcing Crowne to step back. "Why don't you tell me what's actually going on?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why do you need to meet with Royce? What do you have to do with him, and why are you not allowed to talk to him directly? Why should I trust someone who's so determined to make himself seem untrustworthy?"
"Of course, if you're not interested in answering questions," she added, leaning back against the door, "maybe you should look into carrier pigeons."