Page 11 of Breaking Point
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It had been two of the longest days of her life.Luciana had moved through them feeling as though she was slightly drunk.Concentrating on anything took effort.Her motivation to do anything had evaporated.She worked only because it was a habit.She moved around the marketplace, checking on her stalls, talking to the artisans and managers, giving suggestions and advice and sometimes flat orders.Yet none of it thrilled her the way it usually did.She was moving and speaking by rote.
And when she passed the five stalls that Brice Falcon owned, she looked the other way.She didn’t need the reminder.She didn’t want her gut to tighten.She didn’t want to resent him.
She did not spend all day walking around the market as she sometimes did.She instead went back to her office, which was under the pavilion that had once been the headquarters for the Skinwalkers, when they had existed.She had outbid everyone else who wanted the space for its reputation and status, when the area had come up for sale.
She had owned the long and narrow pavilion for three years now, and she loved working here.It was right in the heart of the Capitol, right on the edge of the marketplace, which was the perfect position for her business and for her.
Even the open sides of the pavilion suited her.There were rails that kept people from accidentally walking into her office, or walking through.Yet those same rails seemed to invite people to lean against them and chat with her.She knew everyone in the Capitol, for she had grown up in a letterbox on the first wall, and she had never lived anywhere else, even though she could easily afford a house in the Palatine if she chose to.
Staying here suited her.Her business was here.The people she knew were here…well, some of them at least.Many people she had known, growing up, had moved away from the Capitol as their lives and careers were established.
Even when Devar had been given to her and Rayen, Rayen had agreed to live in the Capitol, too.“What is twenty years, in our lifetimes?”she had said dismissively.“If you want to stay here, we’ll stay here.”
And so Rayen had bought the house on the edge of the Capitol, where they could hear the pods on the Artery whispering by.That is where Devar had grown up and Luciana lived there still.
She had cut short her walk about the market today and returned to the office, to try and work on some of the administrative tasks that were so deadly boring, but essential.Many people passing by would greet her and some would stop to linger and chat for a few minutes.Luciana learned a lot from those conversations, including what made the stalls she managed popular.If more than one person mentioned something they didn’t like about the stalls, she would find a way to adjust the stalls so it was no longer a problem.If it was something the artisans who rented the stalls from her were making or not making, she would stop by and find a way to suggest they discontinue or consider adding to their product line.
The interruptions were almost welcome today, for she could barely focus on anything she was doing.So when yet another Capitolino stopped by the railing on her left, she looked up with a smile.
It was Brice Falcon.
Her first reaction was to look behind him, to see who was paying any attention to the fact that Brice Falcon himself was standing by her office.
No, not her first reaction.Her first reaction was a little jump in her middle.Surprise, she told herself.That was all it was.
Her gaze hadnotflicked over him from boots to head.She hadnottaken in the details of his jacket, which was one of the new, long ones that ended at the knee.Everyone was making a fuss about them on the Forum, while Luciana knew that the design was actually a throwback to ancient Earth.The excess folds around the neckline were called lapels.The back collar was raised.
He looked good in it.And she knew, now, that the shoulders of the jacket were not padded or extended to exaggerate the width.His shoulders really were that wide.
She hid her reaction and slid off the high stool to face him.“The only reason I can think of that explains why you are here is that you’ve come to negotiate a deal over the stalls.”
His hand tightened on the cane, which he held close by his leg, as if he didn’t want anyone to notice it was there.“I will never sell those stalls.”His voice was low.
“I see.”Luciana gave him her brightest smile.“Well, have a good day.”She settled herself back on the stool.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him grip the waist-high railing with his spare hand.“Do you know where I live?”
“The Palatine,” she said flatly.She kept her gaze on the screen in front of her.“We make jokes about the Palatine, here.”
“I’m sure.”His tone was dry.“Come to dinner tonight.The taxiboat will know where to take you.”
Luciana froze.All except for her heart, which she could feel throbbing in her neck.She turned slowly, the stool swiveling.“I’m sorry.The noise of the marketplace muffled my hearing.It sounded as though you said, ‘come to dinner tonight’.”
His eyes were narrowed, as if he was concentrating.Perhaps he was.He was out in public, a rare thing for Falcon.And the Capitol marketplace was noisy and full of people, most of whom probably knew who he was.
“That is what I said,” he said evenly.He glanced around, looking for anyone within hearing range.
“Capitolinos are good at minding their own business,” she said, using the same monotone he had.
“I know that,” he replied, with a tiny touch of irritation.“Tankball fans can be persistent.”
“Then you’d better state your business and go.”
“I have stated my business.Dinner.Tonight.My house.”
“Okay.No.No.And no.”
