Chapter 65

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(Sandy spends too much time in my office.

It's not like he doesn't he have his own space, it's just that he likes invading mine. And because it's Sandy, rejecting him feels like a crime. I snidely note that this saint like demeanor is probably the reason he gets away with half the shit he does. Besides, it's not like he ever bothers me: he just sits there and mind his own business. I just don't understand why he can't mind his own business a couple of doors to my left.

"Congratulations on not instantaneously combusting," Sandy says smiling a little. He's staring intently at his phone. Half-eaten Chinese sits on the table. "Cute."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Yeah well believe it or not Mrs. Cornfield has strong hands. I temporarily lost circulation to my wris—"

"Not the fundraiser, dude." Sandy lifts his phone and shows that it is not the fundraiser. Definitely not. My lungs expand into my throat. "Lyra posted this recently."

"Don't fuck with me."

"The way this girl seems to every time she so much as breathes in your direction?"

I don't know why I'm smiling.

"Don't call the cops tiger, it's just on her insta-story. Read the caption."

"Since when do you follow Lyra on—"

Sandy tosses his phone at me and I very nearly drop the damn thing making Sandy raise his eyebrows and laugh into his palm.

I read too quickly to really comprehend anything, so I go through it a second time, slowly and a little shaky: My boys are just a little ruff around the edges.

The photo had been perfectly candid: my mouth open in protest and Lyra laughing open-mouthed in my hair with one arm around Loki who is trying to eat her ear affectionately. If I didn't spontaneously combust then, I feel like I'm going to do that now.

"Don't," Sandy warns not looking up from his kung pao. "We've still got to take Duchess shopping tomorrow.")

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