"Not any more than Nick is, but it sounds like you've met." His smile is thoughtful, but still warm. They WERE friends; did he still think of her that way when she was a servant only? "She's not as bad as she puts on, but it takes time to get through her shell. I guess I like having tough nuts to crack around."

He waves one hand as if to ward off arguments with a brief chuckle. "She belongs on a different world, somewhere where her fashion and ambition could build her a design empire. Without anything to build on here, she gets lost, like so many others. Who on this planet cares about high fashion, elegance and all that? Who can afford or get food to support a chef of epicurean tastes? But she won't talk about any of that to a stranger. Give her a chance, if you run into her again. She's ferocious but that's not all. Nick can come off like a monster at first if he wants to, too."

And between her and Wolfwood, they kept him alive, then kept him stable, then remained long after they had to. Long enough to learn the bitter and long broken dreams they'd dreamed and given up on. "You're missing out on the best cocktail maker this side of New Miami if you don't."