“Iam all the team I need.” His tone brooked no argument.
Unity turned back to the carrots.
She understood wanting to prove oneself. She was in the midst of attempting that very thing. But she didn’t wish to be lonesome forever. She had worked well with Sampson at his gambling den. She was one small part of a large team that put on intricate performances at the theatre. Neither was the future she longed for, but her life would not be richer for locking herself away.
Lambley hadsaidshe could be his temporary assistant, but he hadn’t meant it. He intended to let her trail behind him, then toss a pile of sovereigns at her and send her on her way without ever truly considering her opinions or potential value.
He was making a mistake.
She would teach him. Unity was determined not just to prove herself, but to prove him wrong. To contribute, to help. She could be useful... if he allowed her to try.
“What if,” she said slowly, “we changed the menu a tiny bit—”
“No.”
“Just for one night—”
“No.”
“Just one item—”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m proposing we change itto,” she burst out.
He raised his brows. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your party.”
“Give me my basket back,” she muttered.
He smiled. “No.”
She tossed far more carrots than she needed inside just to make the basket heavier. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I will not change something that is good for something that might be less so.”
“‘Might,’” she pounced. “Then you admit it also might bebetter. Let’s start with something simple. Why are you so committed to maintaining the status quo of your little triangle sandwiches?”
“I have tested the matter extensively. They are of a perfect size to easily consume in three bites. Any larger, and sandwich remnants litter the trays, or one risks the filling sliding out. Any smaller, and guests have to queue more often to refill their plates. What is your vendetta against my perfect sandwiches?”
“It’s not the sandwiches,” she said. “I believe you when you say every item in your home is the best possible version of that item in the entire world, at least insofar as you’ve been able to make it.”
“Then what is your point?”
“Variety is my point. Surprise is my point. New experiences are my point. Listening to outside opinions is my point. Maybe other people’s suggestions are better. Maybe they’re not. If things don’t go to plan, it’s all right.”
He gave her a forbidding gaze. “Myplans always go exactly as intended.”
“So you planned to run into me today and argue from the turnips to the asparagus?”
His scowl deepened.
“All right,” she said. “I can compromise.”
“I cannot.”
She pretended not to have heard him. “What if, next Saturday, we meet an hour early to sample new items that we both already know you fully intend to veto?”
He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze inscrutable. “As long as you understand that’s precisely what will happen. And I shall pay for the ingredients.”
