“Your audacity.” Her sarcasm is weak.
His smirk confirms he knows it, too.Damn him.
“We never agreed on a date.”
“Excu—oh, you mean the library.”
“What did you think I meant?”
Veda ignores the amusement in his voice. “Anyway, maybe next Friday. I’m not working.” She walks on, but their paths converge again near the olive trees.
Hiram peers up. “It looks dead.”
“It’s an olive tree, it’ll recover.”
She shows him the buds forming on the blackened branches. They’re growing faster than she expects. There’ll be leaves soon. Veda kneels and draws an X in the dirt. Hiram watches.
They return to the group with the treats for the chicks, and everyone’s attention shifts to them. Veda lays the strawberry, tomato, and lettuce leaf down. The chicks descend on the offering as the boys hurry over.
“My dad said to ask you to go to pizza, Mr. Hiram,” August announces.
“It’s Mr. Ellis.”
“Okay, Mr. Hiram.”
He closes his eyes and pinches between his eyes.
“My dad does that when someone is being a pain in the—”
“August,” Gabriel interrupts. Peter is behind him, silently wheezing. “Remember your question?”
“Oh yeah! Can we?”
Hiram looks understandably puzzled but crouches in front of Antaris. “Do you want to have pizza with August tonight?”
Antaris shifts closer, glances around, then taps the back of his hand twice. Hiram frowns, and he repeats the gesture, more insistently. Veda sees when he finally understands.
“That means yes, right?” Hiram confirms.
The corners of Antaris’s lips curve.
Peter invites Veda over for an impromptu dinner the following night. It’s suspiciously well planned.
He makes the sauce for Mughlai chicken while she skims the inventory of ingredients in his stores, sipping wine on the table and enjoying the kitten sleeping in her lap. Veda isn’t one to complain about a free meal, and Peter’s a decent cook. There’s a purpose behind everyaction, even dinner, but the silence is companionable enough for her to relax. Fractionally.
Khadijah joins them later, fresh from an emergency call. She steals a few bites from Peter’s plate, claims she’s going to change, but crashes on the couch. Her snoring becomes the background to their conversation.
“Hiram told me that you agreed to research with him.”
Veda grimaces. “Yeah, and I’ll eat crow if he ends up being right.”
Peter chuckles suspiciously.
She narrows her eyes. “Are you Clinton in disguise?”
He puts his fork down, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Just someone who noticed two people being civil, even sitting next to each other at the pizza place. Color me shocked.”
“A temporary ceasefire.”
