Briar made it a habit to have several phones, though she didn’t always carry them. Technology these days meant she could have several phone numbers tied to what phone, but she liked to keep them seperate. It benefited both her mindset and had it’s practical, paranoia satisfying benefits as well.
She was, in fact, surprised when she heard the ring of Maeve’s phone. So far in her trip she had bounced between keeping it with her and not, more than willing to leave Maeve behind for a spell and not particularly expecting much contact. Nor had she used it to send a message to James like she had said she would. Tehnically she hadn’t taken the agreement to his request back, but she was fighting the urge to give into anything he wanted right at the moment. It was already getting messy. Oksana had multiple phone numbers of her’s if it was an emergency — though the girl could take care of herself, Tulip had made sure of that. As much as she helicopter parented the Pub, it was designed to run on its own when need be. And Julius? Well. To say she wasn’t sure where they stood was really the least of it, honestly. But she had done a remarkable job of not thinking of Summerview, if she did say so herself.
Well. At least when she was active.
Having so many ties to one place was making it more difficult to lose herself in a different persona, and she hadn’t expected that. Not that it was stopping her, if anything it made it more clear she needed this. Places had lingered with her before, especially Australia, but otherwise she did a good job about shoving them to the side once she moved on, and she would be moving on eventually. Hell, even her memories about Julius had stayed quiet until he reappeared again in her life each time, though this time was proving if she did permanently leave Summerview then it was going to be more of a process than usual.
The phone was placed to her ear as she stood up from the table, “Wei?” In Jolin’s melodious voice, while she waved at the other players, stepping casually outside where the staff of the place usually went to bitch on their breaks (though was mercifully empty this time) before she switched to English, “Sorry, hello.” And honestly, she had’t even glanced at the number before answering, so what came out was Maeve’s customer voice.
It hadn’t been long after Errol’s departure that Julius realized his sister’s imminent arrival to Summerview had already come and gone. As in she was there. It was… a day, maybe two? Definitely no more than three but it was hard to say after he’d lost so much time stress sleeping. Either way, she was far more subtle, magically than their father, and therefore not nearly as obvious. It was possible she’d been there longer even but he hadn’t picked up on it before Tuesday. He might have almost been reassured by Marie’s insistence that she’d help get Chrys settled if (and only if) she hadn’t gone and dropped the bomb regarding Chrys and the Revolution.
On the one hand, he was sort of proud to hear his little sister was breaking the mold and doing something a little crazy (and possibly being a bit underhanded about it where their father was concerned), but there were also a couple things that set his teeth on edge. The first being that the Revolution, as she’d explained it, was seriously anti-human, and while Julius didn’t really love that he’d spent much of his past 200 or so years passing as human, spinning half-truths (as Faeries tended to do, but still) about who he was to everyone he came across, not being entirely honest about who he was with anyone (except maybe Prince) until Summerview for his own safety, he did have a sort of affection for humans. At least some of the time. Their food, their alcohol, their fashions (on occasion, there were certainly certain periods that should be struck from fashion history), their ability to change and adapt…
The second problem, of course, was that it put him in a dangerous spot. If anything went awry with her little adventure, he wasn’t sure that the consequences to himself wouldn’t be dire.
Really, the only person to call, in this situation, was someone who’d seen the dark underbelly of Fae deals and lived to tell the tale. That person was halfway across the world but. Eh. He worked until 3 am anyway. That made it afternoon wherever she was, he hoped. At least morning. He only assumed she’d gone where she said she was going. It was a good thing she picked up, because he probably would have just annoyingly kept redialing until he fell asleep if she didn’t. There were a lot of things he actually wanted to say, but the first thing out of his mouth was, “You have the most ridiculous phone voice.”
The phone was pulled away from her ear so she could eyeball it, seeing his number and chastising herself for answering. She had really hoped to go two weeks without talking to him, hence the reason she had told him to go through the pub if he needed to convey a message to her about Chrysanthemum. It seemed a little counterproductive from her perspective, really. But she shouldn’t have expected less out of his bull headed ass. A sigh was his response even as she dug a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, “Yeah well and you got a face for radio, whaddya need?” Back to how she normally spoke to him, a thin veil of exasperation over a casual fondness.
Delightful. It had only been a few days but he had not missed that.
Probably. “Ha ha,” he drawled, swapping the phone from one ear to the other so he could unlock the door to his house. Kind of a silly precaution because on the chance someone did get through the wards, the locks on the doors were actually fairly mundane. But that was sort of the point. Why would someone expect that? Except. Of course, the person on the other end of the phone. “You know you love it.”
That wasn't the point though. He had bigger fish to fry here. “My sister’s here. I haven’t seen her yet.” And with perfectly good reason, but that needed a glass of whiskey first before he dug into it, which was why he made a beeline for the kitchen without bothering to deal with shoes or jacket removal. That’s what wood floors were for, right? Not worrying about wearing shoes inside? Clearly.
“It’s alright,” The pack was finally pulled out of her pocket along with a lighter, the former was stuck between her lips and the latter was so loud when she lit it that it almost seemed to echo back at her from the building opposite her in the dingy alleyway. Zippos, man. A long exhale after holding the smoke in her lungs nearly too long, “When you’re asleep.” They were stowed again as she glanced down the alleyway, glad for the relative quiet. It was a good thing he had called her in the afternoon instead of evening, this place was madness then.
Ah. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he was calling because of Chrysanthemum. A bit of both maybe, Julius seemed to inspire contrasting gross emotions like that. However, she damn sure wasn’t ready to return yet, so that was going to be a problem. One at a time, however, “You waiting for her to come to you?”
“Yeah, whatever,” he replied, smirk actually evident in his tone of voice as he pulled a glass out of the cupboard. “We’ve been through this.” And she always made it difficult. He poured himself a pretty decent sized glass of bourbon, eyeballed it for a second, and topped it off a bit more just for good measure.
“Not exactly.” He took a sip, letting it melt off the lingering chill from the walk home, and then another before he sighed. “Alright kind of. But it’s not what you think. I found something out that my father either didn’t know or declined to tell me.”
Maeve’s voice coming out of Jolin’s mouth was odd, too odd really, so she let it fade out, Jolin’s again, huskier but with a kind of subtle, intermittent sing-song quality that was actually hard for even her to replicate. Had to be in just the right shape and mood for it to shine. “Yet, you make it so easy. Or maybe you’re just easy.” The dry laugh came with a head tilt as she listened to what he was doing, deciding not to ask even if she wanted to.
Another pull on her cigarette, mind already spilling out into a dozen paths and possibilities even with very little to go on. Chrysanthemum probably shouldn’t be viewed as she would a job, a mark, but it was hard not to, especially when he was using that tone and calling her only a week after she left instead of texting. Unless he had texted and she had missed it. “That’s not too surprising. What was it?”
Julius laughed into his glass, walking himself and it to the couch. “Only sometimes,” he conceded. “When I feel like it.” He kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the couch, giving himself a moment to respond to the next question because… Technically he wasn’t supposed to talk about this. Because it was apparently classified information or something.
But this was his sister he was talking about. He wasn’t in any...Revolution or counter revolution or spy ring or whatever was going on. “Sounds like she’s starting a revolution or something?”
Briar let him have his moment, smoking her cigarette and watching people hustle by in the sunshine. Relaxing a little, with his laugh. It couldn’t be all that bad then could it? And there was something to the silence when you were comfortable around someone, though she was surprised that feeling had followed her to China. Especially after the way they had parted.
Her eyes widened though when he finally came out with it, and luckily she wasn’t inhaling on her cigarette at the time. “A revolution or something??” Equal parts skepticism and exasperation. Fantastic, maybe she would be returning in a timely manner after all, “Starting, or simply a part of?” Because words were important, damnit.
Obviously words were important. That’s why he hadn’t said something stupid like “I promise” when Marie had asked him not to say anything, which was nearly as bad as making a deal. He wasn’t an idiot.
But now he had to think back to what exactly was said. Hmm. “Uh…” He set the glass down on the table momentarily to pull his arms out of his coat. “No, definitely starting one. I believe I was told she was ‘second in command.’”
Hmm. The half formed picture of his sister in her mind shifted and reshaped itself with this new information. Now she wasn’t so surprised that he hadn’t talked to her yet, Julius hadn’t seemed the type to get involved in such messy things as Revolutions and it was hard to seperate the movement from his sister most like. Not that she had much experience in the matter, since her family was what it was, but it made sense.
“Second, hm. She must be very useful to someone, for skill or otherwise.” It wasn’t until after the words were out of her mouth that she realized she was slipping more into the planning a job mode and she winced, clearing her throat, “Sorry. I don’t mean to look at your sister as if she’s a job, or like me.” What was her excuse, that it was habit, or that this was her default for approaching both people and riddles?
It was hard, particularly when he was also apparently being recruited for the opposite side--which was a whole other thing, he was not particularly interested in being recruited for anything when all he was looking for was a modicum of normalcy and was apparently just not going to get it--only to find that the sister that he hadn’t seen in two centuries was some head honcho for the other side.
What.
Julius took another drink, heaving a sigh. “No, it’s fine. I had a similar thought in the way. After I got over the shock and the implication that this means I’m in for a much more difficult deal than I anticipated.” It had definitely made him wonder what her particular skill set was. Certainly more powerful than him, but still. Surely she couldn’t have the sort of practical skill set that would make her useful to that misanthropic dragon?
Oh shit, his deal. Now those books seemed like a paltry win, a backhanded victory if there ever was one. This was starting to feel like a rescue operation, and she hadn’t done many of those. Honestly, Briar had planned on sitting back and watching this whole Malcontents V Status quo thing play out safely from the sidelines, only intervening if someone she really cared about was in danger or if there was some easy profit to be made. Now it looks like she was getting involved whether she wanted to or not.
“I don’t suppose you got the exact parameters of your deal? I need to know what I’m working with, if I’m going to help.” And she was, at least, if he wanted her to. Why else would he have called her otherwise? How to dismantle, or quickly win a revolution when you had people on both sides, and quickly too, hm. That was a question she never thought she’d be pondering.
Ah, alright. He’d rescind the I’m not an idiot card for this one thing and for this only. Julius groaned agitatedly, dragging a hand over his face. “No, not… Not any more than I explained to you. I seem to be able to go to Atlantic City, but I’m pretty sure there’s a radius of a certain number of miles I can traverse and no further.” Fuck. “Other than that, I don’t know. I just wanted him out of my house. I wasn’t thinking.”
For that he earned a half-mumbled string of colorful, creative curses in Cantonese that he couldn’t even properly appreciate. A particularly aggressive drag on her cigarette had her stubbing it out on the brick wall and digging for another, “Going to turn me into a chainsmoker, Pretty.” The muttered accusation was saying something, honestly, since the only version of her that he had met that smoked was Tulip.
Another sigh as she finished lighting her second one. Those weird Chinese cigarettes she would probably just be getting used to by the time she left, “So if she gets hurt or killed following Xiofan it could be your ass, eh? So we gotta get her out of this thing or help her win. Basically.” Straight to the point, like it was that simple. Or they could kill his father, she doubted this was one of those deals that would last beyond death, though that was possible. Except somehow she didn’t think Julius would be down for that so she didn’t even put it on the table, “Oh, what about a sleeping curse? That would be protecting her from herself.”
Oh, she made jokes. “I’m not going to take responsibility for your vices,” he replied lackadaisically. Really now. But now that she was bringing it up, he felt the itch to fill his lungs with smoke, but. He was not going outside again.
No, it would have to be just bourbon. He attempted to stave off the itch with another sip. “No curses. Chances are I’d be asleep just as fast as her. No thank you. I have things to do.” Namely a restaurant to run. He wasn’t going to leave the whole thing to the Front of House manager after all. “And I don’t know her well enough anymore to know how to get her out of it.” It was sounding like the only option here was to help them win, but he didn’t particularly like that one either. Was there a fourth door? Because the first three were garbage. “Who are you right now, by the way?” The voice had been Maeve’s to start with, but had switched at some point earlier in the conversation so seamlessly he hadn’t noticed it before now. Or maybe it was just that he had too much swimming around in his brain at the moment. Either way.
“People to do, things to see?” The terrible joke was dropped with a low and sweet, with a grin shining through even as her mind continued to work. “I can learn about her. It's sort of my thing. I'll have a lot of free time when I get back.” It was the first time she had openly acknowledged it even to herself but it felt right when she said it out loud. The cigarette was ashed carefully, taking it in at a normal pace this time, “I have some theories. But I'd like to test the waters before I build on them, but it's a door I know I can wedge open.” It wouldn't do for Julius to get wound up if she was wrong, and besides, he was too close to it.
Oddly enough, she found his question didn't cause her to wince or look for an excuse to hang up, “Jolin. Intermittent Mahjongg champion, consultant on museum security. I have a black tie event tonight.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, the hum ending in a derisive snort. “Something like that.” Her next comment had him raising an eyebrow, all the good it did him considering she couldn’t see it. “You mean uh… You and uh… Is that over?” Shocking. Or not really. It was really difficult to have a relationship without honesty and. Well.
He wasn’t going to say I told you so.
“I appreciate the help though. I figured you’d have a better idea about this than anyone else. I doubt Shara or that Satyr have dealt in anything like the deals my father tends to make, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” Why were the only other two Fair Ones in town so… Pleasant?
“Oh? How fancy.” What he wouldn’t give at the moment for a black tie event over dealing with this nonsense.
“Yeah. We had a —” A quarrel? A tif? An argument? Whatever, this wasn’t usually her deal, either this thing dangerously close to a heart to heart or analyzing her own relationships when they weren’t for a job. It was easier to distance herself then, “I opened up just for mortal judgement and expectations. I’m too old to be ashamed of my blood, or my survival, Julius.” I am what I am, and I’m not ashamed. Was there, but she didn’t say it, because she had also recently said ”This isn’t about my self loathing right now.” or something to that effect.
Anyway.
That got a genuine laugh out of her that echoed down the alley, “You think the Hob lady could ply your kin with tea, biscuits, and a lecture on familial bonds?” The picture was amusing, not just because of how he had painted their father but from the taste of his magic and just the way he walked. Looked like a real pretentious douchebag if you asked her. Him saying he appreciated the help, and complimenting her threw her off and she was quiet for a long moment before she cleared her throat, not trying to be insulting but instead make him consider carefully before she took action, “Before I get back, and I start this, will it bother you if I pick her apart? To manipulate her?” Even if it was for her own good. Ultimately, she wasn’t doing it for Chrysanthemum.
“I have my classy moments.” Truthfully, she missed them. Oksana probably caused it to come back with her love of nice things, damn her.
“Indeed,” he said quietly, leaning forward on the couch, turning the glass around in a circle on the coffee table as he tried to decide if he should say more to that. Point out that she was still hiding, in a way which didn’t make it look like she wasn’t ashamed of her blood or survival, but. Nah. That wasn’t something to get into over the phone with a million miles between them. And was also basically an I-told-you-so. Which he wasn’t doing.
“Hey, I got a lecture on familial bonds from Errol, apparently that’s a thing they still believe in even after they kicked me out. It might work.” He didn’t actually believe it, but it also wasn’t the worst idea? Although, his father didn’t have the best opinion on Hobs, so it might have transferred over to Chrysanthemum. Who could say? Certainly not Julius who still hadn’t made his way over to the Sleepy Satyer to… Do whatever he was supposed to be doing. Her next question was such a contrast to that picture of Shara sitting the whole Fírinne family down to tea for a lecture on how families should work that it took him a moment to switch gears. “Pick her apart how?” He asked after a moment.
She almost. Almost said something about this is one of the reasons she didn’t blame him for what happened with Tulip. Because it was in his blood. Also, because that had been her fuckup. But this wasn’t the time. Yukio may have knocked that encounter off kitler, but it still tasted a little unresolved in her mouth.
“Ugh. Fuck that. You don’t owe anyone shit.” Briar grumbled just before she took another drag on her cigarette, watching the smoke float into the air before tossing her phone and her cigarette into other hands, regretting the fact that she had left her bluetooth headset in the hotel. They frowned upon that in this parlour there. Hell though, if a lecture from the matronly baker would solve the problem, more power to her. “I’m not going to psychologically torture or anything. Just. A profile I guess. Push her a little here and there maybe. Depends on how it goes, to find out the real reasons she’s doing this and the best way to get her out of it. Solve it. You know.” Figure out what makes her tick, and how to move her around the chess board the way they wanted.
As far as he was concerned at this point they were pretty even on that whole fiasco (though really, it was nice to have that final puzzle piece that explained so much about her occasionally frosty attitude). And really, weren’t they still friends despite it? He was calling her in Thailand with a family problem. Case closed, in his opinion.
“My thoughts exactly,” he said, following the sentiment with another sip. “And yet, here I am. Doing a thing for them.” Julius rolled his eyes sighing again. He’d been doing so well for two centuries. He couldn’t help but laugh at her explanation. “Oh, you mean that thing you do to me on a daily basis? Yes, sure, by all means go ahead. Someone else in my family should have to be subjected to that torture.” He was mostly joking. Mostly.
There was that expression she only seemed to wear about him, but mostly when he couldn’t see it, far too fond and warm. But he couldn’t see it, so it was safe, “We don’t always act rationally when family is involved.” He had fucked up. Making a deal with his father at all, not getting all the details about said deal when he made it, or finding out enough about Chrysanthemum. But she didn’t blame him, really. Like she said. One wasn’t always careful about family, and she had done some pretty emotional things related to her own in the heat of the moment.
The word torture brought a low laugh from deep in her chest, voice dropping an octave, “Torture? Is that the first thought that comes to mind when you think of me, Julius?” A genuine question, but there was something in her tone that said she very well knew the answer.
Wasn’t that the thing though? He shouldn’t have had to be acting any way at all with them. “Well considering I thought I was done with them forever,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut in annoyance. “I was sort of thrown for a loop. It’s hard to act rationally when someone just forcefully reinserts themselves in your life unannounced.” At least Chrys hadn’t just shown up on his doorstep and barged right in. At least she wasn’t that much like their father.
A wry smile twitched at his lips. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
There was a chastising noise as she sucked at her teeth, “They’re still alive darling, so your ties to them are as well. You aren’t going to shake them so easily. Can’t run from your blood forever.” And honestly, she hadn’t meant it to sound sad, even though it was a bit. That he would never really escape his family as long as they were alive, while also harkening back to what she said about her failed romance — you can’t change what you are, not down to our core. “Yeah. I imagine. But we’ll sort this shit out. It may not be pretty, but we’ll fix it.” Steel in her voice as she stubbed out her cigarette against the wall behind them, because they both knew she would play dirty if she needed to. This was her dance, after all. “Just be careful. Okay? I’ve gone against more of The Fair Folk than you have. The ones from the Summerlands, they play a different game.” Worrying about people was exhausting, and even if concern for Julius wasn’t new, she still wasn’t used to it.
A pleased hum resonated from her throat again, “Good. Hate to see you start to be afraid of a little challenge after all this time.”
“I wasn’t trying to shake them. They shook me,” he pointed out. Which was what made it all the more bizarre. Sure he’d spent a lot of years stifling his own roots to the point where he’d needed to spend more than a decade between 1964 and 1980 doing the absolute least and spending an exorbitant amount of time out of doors the recoup as much magic as he possibly could, but it was easier to be out in the human world when you were a little more like a human. Just common sense, really. But at least he didn’t smell like foxglove. It almost made him appreciate the violets. He tipped his glass back, swallowing what was left in the glass (quite a large gulp, really) and got back up to refill it. “I know. That’s why I called.” Obviously.
“Never,” he replied, “Without a challenge I’d be bored, and I’m sure I’ve told you, only boring people are bored.” He laughed lightly, tucking his phone precariously between his ear and shoulder so he could pour another glass. Smaller this time. “I appreciate your part in not allowing me to be boring.”
She raised an eyebrow that he couldn’t see, approval in her eyes, “Now they are meeting you in your territory. Where you have allies and know the world far better than they ever will. Really, the cards are all in your favor, Pretty.” All except for the fact that they shook him to his core. But between him playing them like the clever, experienced human adjacent creature he was and her coming at them sideways, more vicious than they realized they could handle this. Even if it did get a bit ugly in the process, but were things worth it if a bit of blood wasn’t shed along the way?
A finger tapped at the pack of cigarettes in her pocket, though she decided in the end to not light up another. Three was a little much, especially when she wasn’t used to it anymore. “You know me, I find ways to be useful.” It was usually a self-deprecating joke made at her expense before anyone else could, but this time it had the air of an inside joke, “I might be a mess, but sometimes I’m a pretty one. Like Picasso.” Or, pretty things came from Picasso’s messy mind, making seemingly messy art, but that didn’t quite roll of the tongue did it?
That was a fair point. He hadn’t been in Summerview long, by any stretch of the imagination, but especially by his standards, but it was ostensibly more his territory more than anywhere else he’d lived in a long time. He’d started putting down roots when he opened the bar. “I suppose. And now I know they haven’t written me out completely, I might actually be prepared next time.” But Oberon he sincerely hoped it would be a while before there was a next time.
He was going to let the self-deprecating joke sit for now. He thought she was plenty useful, obviously, but that wasn’t something he wanted to agree to for fear of making it sound like he meant to use her, which wasn’t it at all. Though she was helpful and at the moment he was eternally grateful for the assistance she was providing at the moment. Especially since the situation was so bizarre. Who needed to ask for outside assistance on how to handle their own kind? “Hmm,” he murmured, putting the cap back on the bottle and meandering back to the couch with the fresh drink. “I don’t think I’ve met a face of yours yet that I didn’t like.”
He may be prepared next time, but on the other side of that coin it meant they would. Julius didn’t have the benefit that she did of sneaking up on people multiple times and ways. It was always harder to hit a target when they knew to dodge, “Hopefully there won’t be a next time. This time they are underestimating you, next time they won’t.” Because they were going to put on a damn good show this time. It occurred to her then, this was the second time they had worked together, but the first time on any sort of venture like this, and definitely the first where he knew what she was capable of. That was good. You couldn’t use a weapon if you didn’t know it’s full range of motion.
But —
This felt equal. It was something she felt in her gut and she didn’t question it, both of which surprised her.
A dry, quiet laugh on her exhale at that, “Even Mieke? There was a little bit too much bite in her, wasn’t there?” A pause, and a slow smile spread across her features, “Or does that pull you in? Tulip a little too gentle for you, Julius?” It was a tease, and a challenge all at once while she rolled his name across her tongue in a way that Tulip and Jolin were especially suited for, like she was learning the crevices of it and taking possession. Ah, she shouldn’t, yet here she was. But it was safe like this, wasn’t it? Fifteen hours and a few thousand miles away?
“Hopefully,” he agreed, though he seemed pretty well tied to them again for the time being, and as much disdain as his father had for the mundane world, now that Chrys was out in it (and apparently stirring up shit), he wasn’t sure that another visit from dear old dad wasn’t in the cards. Hopefully he wouldn’t show up with mother next time. Somehow, he felt seeing her would be worse. But he didn’t want to think about that at the moment.
Julius snorted into his glass, grateful he hadn’t quite taken a sip yet. “Even Mieke. Too bad she’s such a brat.” He didn’t mind the attitude necessarily, but it was usually better if it was tempered with at least a little fondness--cheeky was better than flat out mean--hers was not, though that didn’t make her any less pretty. “I think you know what pulls me in. Don’t think too hard about it.” The answer, of course, was trouble.
“If you can’t take the heat then stay out of Africa, Julius.” She countered without hesitation, and a dozen answers came to her and were discarded for his second statement, all various levels of crass and bite. But she finally settled on, “Quality jackets, clearly.” Warmth and amusement (mostly) taking the place of flirtatious heat. Mostly.
The phone was pulled away from her shoulder so she could peer down at the time, “I have a few rounds to go before I have to get ready for tonight. I’ll see you when I get back. In the meantime, don’t let her scare you too much in your own home you know. Maybe see if those books have anything regarding old laws about guest behavior and hospitality laws.” And she would give him homework all the way from China, wouldn’t she?
“You wish you were the hottest thing about Africa,” he countered. Because really, the heat was the hottest thing about Africa, and he didn’t do well with extreme temperatures or desserts, and the 1960s was all 3 piece suits and hats and super close shaves and clean cut everything until halfway through the decade, at which point he was no longer in Africa. On the one hand, he’d liked the way style both conformed and pushed boundaries like the styles of the 1920s (miniskirts, anyone?) but it was definitely not the sort of thing suited for an oppressively arid environment.
Julius laughed at her response. Not what he was going for, but also not entirely incorrect. ”I suppose that’s true,” he conceded “I do have two of your jackets.” But goodness, if that were true, he’d have picked up far more jackets in the meantime.
Ugh.Homework. He supposed he was in for a lot of it once the books came in. “When they come in, I’ll look into it and let you know.” Although politeness and hospitality were things that, while rusty, he could still probably pull of in his sleep. They were ingrained. As much as he’d like to forget, he remembered. It was everything else that would be a struggle. “I do really appreciate your help.” It was as close to he could get to a thank you without actually saying the words. “Good luck with your fancy gala or whatever. I’ll see you when you get back?” Hopefully with more information. Not that he relished the idea of having to face more family without backup.
Two? Still? That had her eyes widening thinking of him in her jacket, and a feeling in her chest that curled her toes. The smirk that pulled at her lips was more at home on Sebastian’s passionate face than the one she wore now, “I didn’t know you kept the second one.” Was all she said though, because she wasn’t particularly fond of that feeling or what it meant, so she shoved it to to the side and decided to not think about it too much.
Briar gave a quiet hum of agreement, “That’s what friends are for. Or so I read in a book once.” A snort at her own terrible joke, a hit back at his don’t you know how friends work from...Ugh, when was that? Time was weird, especially when she was travelling. At least he didn’t actually thank her, that would be awkward. She might’ve dropped the phone and spent another few weeks gone just to spite him. “Of course. It’s a small town. Hard to miss me. Goodnight, Julius.”