Page 6 of The Devil in the Details

“What do you think of these?” A customer leaned forward and tapped the glass display case. The piece in question was a crystal necklace designed to resemble a fish curled around the wearer’s neck with a fanned tail at one end and head at the other. The display card claimed it was a “dragon” design, but it looked like a goldfish to Zelda.

“Crystal set in sterling silver. Each link has some movement, while the overall structure maintains the shape. A piece that will make an impression.” If that impression was that the wearer really liked guppies.

“Yes, but I asked what you thought, not its credentials.” He looked up through the light brown hair that fell forward. The light caught the blue in his eyes. He sported two days’ worth of scruff along his jaw. Oddly, that only made his lean face more appealing. Some men wore unkempt well.

“It’s very shiny,” Zelda said.

The man did not seem impressed. She smiled blankly.

He hummed and tapped a finger against his lips, thinking. “Is there anything noteworthy in the shop, in your opinion?”

“Noteworthy,” she repeated. The shop didn’t have much in the way of noteworthy. The truly valuable pieces were listed on the network. Mostly tat and flashy junk filled the display cases.

Zelda pulled out a nondescript wooden box and opened it to display a polished gray rock set in the center of two golden rings. Each ring held a small green stone.

“This is interesting. Martian meteorite,” she said, holding the pendant up by the chain. With a flick of her finger, the rings rotated around the central stone. “The central stone is Mars. The smaller stones are peridot and represent the moons Phobos and Deimos.”

“How is a Martian rock interesting?”

“A Martian meteorite,” Zelda said. “It broke off from Mars, fell to Earth, was discovered, set in this piece, and made its way back home. No one has traveled more than our friend here.” The pendant spun lazily, gleaming in the shop’s lights.

“And you like this?”

“My opinion doesn’t matter. Only the opinion of the person who wears it counts,” she said.

“Then your opinion matters.” He licked his lips and Zelda knew.

Malgraxon.

“You!” She took a step back from the counter and glanced around. The shop was empty, and the owner, Geneva, was in the backroom. “You changed your face.”

“You don’t like this one? You didn’t seem to appreciate my face last night.” Malgraxon planted both his hands on the counterand leaned forward, giving her a good look at his swirling black and blue eyes. “It’s a good face, I think.”

“Your face is fine.” In a whisper, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“We have details to discuss.”

“Are you serious? Here? Someone might overhear us.”

“Who?” Malgraxon spread his arms wide to draw a point to the shop’s emptiness.

“My boss is in the back, and I’m supposed to be working.” She looked over her shoulder to the doorway with a beaded curtain that separates the back of the store. Her boss could hear everything.

When Geneva failed to come charging out, threatening to fire Zelda for slacking, she relaxed some.

“Hmm,” he agreed with a hum—and damn it, that should not make her heart flutter. “You’re very good at working, too. It’s adorable. I’ll take the well-traveled rock. When you are done with that, I will take you shopping.”

“I’m working,” she repeated. “Honestly, I get that’s probably not a concept you’re familiar with, but us mere mortals need money for food and rent.”

“I am familiar with the concept. Now hurry. You are cranky and I think you need to be fed.”

Zelda couldn’t fight the blush that colored her cheeks. Was that a crack about her weight? Like all a chubby chick did was eat?

“I’m not hungry,” she said. Lunch had been a cheese sandwich and a bag of stale popcorn. Hardly wholesome, but it did the job, and it was cheap.

Malgraxon tilted his head like she was bizarre, and honestly, it was the most alien thing she’d seen him do. “I have upset you.”

“I can’t leave. If I leave, I will lose my job, which is a problem because this is the only place willing to hire me.”

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