Profession

Derinoe

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in bed, which allowed me to take stock of how I felt. Much more level than I'd expected, actually. I had emotional support from Jon and my family who counted, I knew where my boundaries were with my sister, and I had sufficient diversions lined up to keep me from dwelling. I got up and showered, treating my cut with respect and checking to see that there wasn't any infection. It was looking good and starting to itch, a sign of healing. And there didn't seem to be nerve damage around it, good news. If there was, it would have to be treated by a specialist, not an accelerator. I dressed for the muggy weather, and went to find my boyfriend in his office. I sat on his lap and we talked about his schedule; he had the interview he'd pushed back and needed to do some research in a moldy old archive. "Are you going to be ok, though?" he asked. "I don't have to go to the archives today."

"I'm feeling a lot more stable, actually," I said. "I'm going to go to the store later, restock the kitchen. I see that somebody's been living on takeout." He smiled at the teasing tone of my voice.

"Your family called while you were still sleeping," he said. "They'd like to take us to lunch."

"That sounds nice," I said, and he agreed.

"I already accepted," he said. I looked around as I snuggled against him.

"I thought I told you that you should take out the bedroom furniture and really make this your office," I said, puzzled. "You've just got this little bitty desk wedged in here with your desk chair."

"I felt kind of weird about it," he said after a moment. "I'm only going to be here a few more months. And I didn't know where to put the furniture."

"Well, I forgot to specify the attic. To me, that's the natural order of things," I said, smiling, then the smile slipped away. "I was kind of hoping to entice you into a bi-country existence. What's mine is yours."

"I didn't want to presume, Lys," he said. "I don't want to pressure you. But I don't want you to think I'm rejecting you, either."

"Home is really important to me," I told him honestly. "And where you are is my home. I also have these properties, which I want you to think of as your home too. I love London and I come here a lot, for fun, work, and refuge." He carefully tightened his arms around me.

"Then will you help me clear the room?" he asked. "Look for furniture with me?"

"Oh, I'd love to," I said enthusiastically. "Put everything but your office chair up in the attic, start fresh. Get you a desk big enough to spread out on, some bookcases, a rug. There's a lot of space here; how about a chair and table by the window so you can take a nature break when you need to let things gel? What styles do you like?" He laughed.

"Big and solid, dark woods," he said, kissing my temple. "Clean lines. I like blue." He nuzzled my hair. "I like to watch you when you have a project." We decided to go shopping after tea at the palace, then I left him to finish up before lunch and took a cup of coffee out onto the patio. I retreated, though; hot coffee in muggy heat just doesn't do it for me. And thus I was in the house when the gatehouse called and said that I had visitors.

The pups came with me as I meandered along the path, ducking into the welcome coolness of the gatehouse shadow. I stopped at the gate that was properly closed and locked, and saw Derinoe and Grant. Grant looked uncomfortable and Deri had a rather fake smile on her face. She opened her mouth.

"What do you want?" I asked briskly. Her mouth snapped shut and she looked taken aback. Her temper flared but she quickly repressed it.

"Look, I know we've had our differences, but I need you to come back to New York. Just for a couple of days; the board is questioning what happened at the wedding. As if it's any of their business."