Page 41 of The Gathering Storm

George cleared his throat. “So, anyway. About the other day.”

Sigrid arched an eyebrow. In the past, such a gesture would’ve sent him running. Now he merely continued his rambling thoughts aloud, as had become his habit in the past few days.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me unload about Andrea.” He grimaced down at the file folder in his hands and tightened his fingers around its edges. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I mean, you’re my boss and personal stuff shouldn’t bleed over into work, but I—”

Sigrid leaned forward and touched his forearm, stopping him in mid-ramble. “I’m not just your boss, George. I’m the Daughter responsible for your wellbeing during your tenure here at the IECS. You are, in effect, part of my family. If I had no care for you, I would fail myself as well as you.”

“You Daughters and your duty.” George shook his head, his scowl deeper now. “Anyway, I appreciate it. Talking to you helped a lot.”

“I wish you would allow me to intercede on your behalf.” She curled her hand around his and waited until he looked at her before continuing. “If you were my Son and truly a part of my family, I would go to Andrea’s family and seek Retribution on your behalf.”

“But I’m not a Son. I’m not anything.”

The sadness in his voice rent right through her heart. “You are more than you believe, George, much more, and I won’t have you saying otherwise.”

“You won’t, huh?” A small smile eased the gloom in his expression. “I guess since you said so, I have to believe it, right?”

“Now you understand. A Daughter’s word is law.”

His smile turned into a grin, then into laughter, and he chuckled so hard, she could do nothing less than join him in his humor.

When he’d finally wound down, he said, “Thanks. Really. It’s a lot better working here, now that I know you’re still human.”

“Pfft,” she scoffed, and tilted her nose into the air, affecting a snobbery she knew well how to use to her advantage, when the time was right. “I am no mere human. I am a Daughter of the line of Bagda, a warrior of the ages, and not one to be trifled with. You would do well to remember that.”

“Oh, trust me. I will.” He handed the folder to her and tilted his head toward the boxes holding court in the center of the room. “Time for these to go into storage?”

“Not yet.” She tapped the edge of the file against her skirt and considered the Bones of the Just. “How is the testing coming for the skeletal remains in the on-site museum?”

George winced and hissed in a breath. “Damn it. I knew I was forgetting something.”

Sigrid clucked her tongue. “For this, I shall have to punish you. Next time, the beers are on you.”

“You’re on. Speaking of, are you going to The Omega tonight?”

She turned her gaze to a search for nonexistent lint on her skirt. “Of course, and you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He cleared his throat, then said in a carefully casual voice, “Will’s a pretty good guy, yeah?”

A slow smile found its way into her expression. “Indeed, he is.”

“Maybe you should, ah, you know.” He shrugged and a hint of pink rose in his cheeks. “Be nice to him. I mean, the way you were with me.”

“I am doing my best,” she assured him, then turned matters away from the personal onto work, marveling the whole while about the transformation one simple conversation had had in George’s demeanor.

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