Page 12 of Red Flag, Green Light

I blink. “You…have Jovey’s phone number?” I don’t remember them meeting. Ever. And I would. I would know and remember if they have ever once crossed paths.

Her attention rises, slowly, to me. “Is…that not normal? I know your full names and address. It’s not hard to find a phone number with that information in an online directory, and it’s not weird to look it up. Phonebooks used to be delivered yearly everywhere. In the case of an emergency, you two are the closest people who could help. Seems perfectly logical to have both your numbers in my phone.”

I thoroughly agree. Hunting down someone’s personal information as a precaution for emergencies is perfectly logical and not weird at all.

I am in love.

I’m in love.

Marry me, Ceres. Right now.

I retrieve my phone from beside the deck of cards in my pocket. Currently, I have three decks on me—including one tucked in each of my boots. “Text me.”

She does. She texts me a thrilling period.

A full stop. The end of a sentence. A perfectly subtlewe’re done here, right?

No, we are not.

In fact, I am just getting started…

Speaking ofjust getting started, I was in the middle of a proposition. Which is actually quite important, all thingsconsidered. Jove is late on getting me his next draft because he’s trying to do better about leaving me with fewerinsert romance here, Marscomments. Earlier today, I sprung a surprise meeting on him, even though it’s not Tuesday, which is when we normally have our incredibly rare weekly catch up.

He asked me how to fall in love.

As though he isn’t already head over heels for his childhood friend and pen pal, Lyra Gold. Conclusion? I create an opportunity where his already rampant feelings might appear in HD…while possibly providing mine with a chance, too. Win, win. “Circling back to my offer…” I say.

“Offer?” She lowers her phone. “I thought you were threatening me.”

“No, no. No threats here. It’s merely an offer you can’t refuse.”

Air leaves her, steady, a sigh. “Mars…”

Mars. Again. Blessings never cease.

Weary, she continues, “What are we doing here?”

I beam. “Quelling my boredom.”

“Right.” She lifts her phone to her ear.

I bristle. “Who are you calling?”

“Jupiter.”

Iwouldrelax, consideringJupiterdoes not even have his phone set to ring unless I’m calling, but she just called himJupiter. And I hate that. Viscerally. “No one calls himJupiter. He’s Jove.”

“Well,Joveis not picking up.” Distress creases her brow.

“Yeah, he does that.” Not for me, of course, but for absolutely everyone else in the world. He’s a real wonderfulhates everyone but yousort of creature. Smiling, I lace my fingers in my lap. “So, about my offer.”

The distress on Ceres’s face heightens, which is probably not the best for my schemes of matrimonial bliss. Pull it together,me.

Deeply put upon, Ceres murmurs, “I’m very disinterested in assisting you in…” Her eyes close, brows all kinds of knitted. “…throwing a town-wide festival for Flag Day? I just… Whodoesthat?”

People who aren’t resorting to coercion, or blackmail. “People who are trying to help their brothers.”

“Why does Jupiter need a Flag Day festival?”

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