Page 46 of Black Reign

Drew grins.

“Long enough.”

I should stop.

Instead, Scotch makes another poor decision for me.

GHOST: They've also apparently renamed you Miss London Bridge. Half of them are placing bets that you are a really an old Russian hacker with gold teeth named Sergei.

The typing indicator appears.

Stops.

Returns.

VESPER: I hate your friends. My teeth are all nice and white.

I translate.

Leo lifts his beer.

“She fits right in.”

Drew says, “Tell her the name stays until she shows.”

I refuse.

Kane leans toward the screen.

“Ask if she'd actually consider coming.”

That question is different.

The noise quiets.

I type:

GHOST: Good to know. No details tonight. The wedding is still a few months away. If you're interested, I'll put a digitally encrypted invitation here when we're closer.

Her response takes almost a minute.

VESPER: You would actually invite me into your real life?

The words hit harder than anything else tonight.

No city.

No state.

No date.

No venue.

Nothing linking this conversation to California or Kane Haverhill.

Those details can wait.

This isn't really about logistics.