James couldn't help but wonder if the woman bought the excuse or not. It was a bit hard to tell. He knew Natasha would never believe that. And Destiny didn't strike him as a fool. No doubt she knew how to read people and knew he was telling her a half truth. But she didn't call him on it and he silently thanked her for that. She was a stranger and that was not something to dump on a stranger who could turn around and use it against you.
At the comment about being seventy years old he gave a small laugh and shook his head. "Try a bit over ninety. I was born in the early 1920s." He settled back in his chair. When she asked about how he was handling it, he shrugged.
"Still coming to terms with it. I didn't know I was being used until earlier this year when a former protege of mine and my best friend got me to think and knocked sense into me." He glanced at his left arm. With the state of the world as it was, he had forgone his prosthetic skins to mask the metal. What was the point really?
"I always have a reminder to never be too trusting."