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I don’t know that I’m business savvy, but I understand what he’s saying. Dopekh is a romantic with his head in the clouds. Salvotor is impulsive and gives everything away with his expression. Neither one is good at haggling. Or at our nightly sticks games. “No, I’ll come. Give me five to get dressed.”
“Thanks, brother. I’m putting on the night tea right now. I’ll make it super-strong, too.”
I make a face but Erzah clicks away before he sees my expression. Erzah likes his caffeine strong enough to scorch metal. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to put him in charge of the morning brew, but at least I’ll be awake. I just hate that he needs me. I swear, it’s like the entire crew is conspiring to keep me and Ruthie apart.
Scrubbing my hand over my features, I fish my clothes off of the floor and get dressed while I wait for Ruthie to emerge from the lavatory.
She does a short time later, patting her newly-pierced breast. “Does this look overly padded to you?” She pauses as she watches me pull on a boot. “Wait, you’re dressed. Are you leaving?”
“Erzah needs muscle to head into Port with him for negotiating,” I tell her. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. Unless you need me to stay?”
Ruthie waves a hand. “No, go with him. He’s been talking about this cantina for forever. If this is his dream, help him with it.”
Wait, he’s been talking about a cantina forever? Where have I been?
Oh, right. I’ve been obsessed with Ruthie. I wonder what other information has passed me by while I keep my focus on her. “Maybe we can have lunch together?”
“Maybe.” Her expression looks cagey, as if she doesn’t want to commit to something as small as lunch, and my heart sinks. Even though we’ve been friends for months now, she still panics. She struggles with saying what she truly wants, and struggles even more with making decisions. Most of the time I avoid it by stating things directly instead of turning them into a question. Any time someone asks Ruthie to make a choice, she panics.
I won’t press her, though. I understand. Trauma shows up in different ways for everyone. “It’s all right. We can skip lunch.”
She flinches as if she realizes something. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Waffling.”
“It’s just lunch.”
Ruthie bites her lip. “I just…” She plays with the piercing in her lip, agitated. “I just…I don’t know the answer I want to give!”
“It’s all right?—”
“It’s not,” she says miserably. “At times like this, I wish I had a coin to flip.”
“A…coin?”
“Human version of credits,” she tells me, her voice full of self-loathing. “We flip a coin to decide when we can’t.”
“You want me to find you one of these coins?”
“No. Just forget I said anything.” She gives me a weak smile and moves back to the bed.
She won’t even ask me for this one thing, and it feels like defeat. How do I get her to want more from me?
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
KAZEX
“You seem like you’re in a bad mood,” Ruth-Ann tells me as we walk down the main street of Port. She remains at my side, even though she could walk ahead a few steps with Erzah, and pokes my arm. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, putting on a brave face. Erzah is practically strutting down the street, his excitement about the new building palpable. I don’t want to ruin this for him. He’s having a good day and I want that for him. I want this to be the best keffing day of his life. I just need to keep my grumpiness to myself.
I don’t even mind that Ruth-Ann tagged along. Of the three “sisters,” she’s the quietest one. She wanted to join us in our excursion into Port, and gave Erzah a kidney punch when he teased her about wanting to see the pretty baker with the lousy bread. We’ve promised to stop by the bakery cart after Erzah concludes his business meeting, and until then, we’ll be security for him.
Ruth-Ann won’t let me off the hook, though. She tucks her bobbed hair behind her ears and gives me an astute look. “Something’s bothering you. You know you can talk to me. I won’t say anything to my sisters.”
Grimacing, I glance ahead at the whistling Erzah, who is practically jaunting to the Port Custodial Offices for his meeting. I’m told that Lord Straik offered to come along, but Erzah wants to conduct this business on his own. He’s got the happiest swagger in his step and I really don’t want to ruin his day because I’m mooning over Ruthie. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Today is about Erzah.”
Ruth-Ann shrugs.
We enter the custodial office and we’re greeted by a rather massive, overfed mesakkah alien who gives us a stern glare. “Can I help you with something?” His gaze settles on Ruth-Ann. “Are you in danger from these two males?”
