Skye stood there, hands shoved into her jeans pockets. “Hey. Can I come in?”
Lucia stepped aside, shut the door, and followed Skye back inside.
“What brings you here?” Lucia asked. “Need to fling some more accusations?”
“No.”
Skye just stood in front of the easel, staring at Lucia’s most recent painting. The light caught on one corner of it, where the crimson bled into storm gray.
“I’m bringing gear from Jules.” She jostled her small backpack.
“I see,” Lucia said. “What’s it this time?”
“Additional burner and an updated access map. Jules figured we’d better be flexible.”
“Thanks.”
“Mmhmm.” Skye squinted at the canvas. “This is kinda shit, isn’t it? Like you couldn’t decide what to lean into and mixed everything instead into this”—she gave a lopsided shrug—“hodge-podge of ‘I tried but can’t’?”
Lucia sighed, fighting the impulse to snatch the bag and kick Skye out. “As charming as ever. I thought we’d found a truce, no?”
Skye almost flinched, her expression cagey.
“Are you just here for a tech run and to insult me, or is anything else weighing on you, Skylar?”
“Right. Sorry.” She paused. “I just… Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yeah. It’s time to move on.”
“All because of Blackwell? Is she that good?”
When Lucia opened her mouth to snap back, Skye raised her hand. “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t making fun or talking about sex.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I just… It seems kinda sudden that you want out, and the thing that’s different is Blackwell, so she must be good. To you, or like… I don’t know. She makes you happy?”
Lucia smiled. “She does, though we’re not… We’re still figuring stuff out. But no. It’s not because of her, though I’d be lying if I said she’s had no impact. She definitely gave me a little push to step up.”
Skye’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Want water or tea?” Lucia hadn’t expected a heart-to-heart with Skye, especially not after her reaction at the planning meeting. But you never knew with Skye.
“Unsweetened tea?”
“Sure.” Lucia headed to the kitchenette and grabbed two glasses, filled them, and handed one to Skye.
“Thanks. Uh… Where do you sit here?”
“I don’t.” Her voice came out with a small laugh. Maybe she should invest in a bean bag or something. She could picture it already: herself painting while Penelope curled up in the chair beside her, reading.
“Oh.” Skye lowered herself to the floor, crossed her legs and leaned back on one hand.
Lucia joined her.
“So?” Skye prompted.
“Why do you want to know?” Lucia asked.
Skye shrugged, acting as if she couldn’t care less, yet her fingers flicked against the glass in her hand. “Like I said, it’s sudden. At least for me. I don’t… I hate that you’re leaving and, yes, I need to keep working on expressing my pain differently, but let’s not psychoanalyze me. I’m here for you.”
“You want to psychoanalyze me instead?” Lucia bit back a smile.
