Pepper hadn't thought of who might watch. Her own eyelids flickered, the burned-pennies smell very faintly present as she flexed an already tense muscle.
"Have you no secrets of your own? Ones no one else cares about, or thinks very much of. I do." She thought of a bookshelf of romance novels, of the sole piece of paperwork she'd kept because her signature was on it, ordering some production line opened.
But he asked what she'd prefer and she lifted her face to his. "If I knew it was to report back spying on my colleagues, I wouldn't come." It was as simple as that. But she didn't think it was as simple as he painted it.
"What way? The way you would have found if you hadn't stumbled across me at a party, and I didn't like you enough to bother with afterwards?"