What an unfortunate backfire, one plan ruining another. At least now she'd be fed. She'd picked her target well, but then again, she was good at that. Amber accepted the proffered items with a dimple and a sweet voice. "Thank you--" faking a timid aversion of her gaze, Amber snuck a quick glance at his name tag. "Frederick."
He looked about ready to explode.
Amber wouldn't ditch him hard. He'd done what she'd asked with little effort on her part, and quickly, too. She'd be a fool to throw away such an asset. Who knew what else she could con him into? "Maybe later," she said, tone intentionally ambiguous, "I have work now."
Perfect. Somewhere between insinuation and brush off, the kid was so confused he panicked and bolted. He'd be kicking himself for screwing up his chance, and the next time she needed a favor, he'd be available.
"Can we do that?" Kutner asked, looking round with wide eyes, as if somewhere there were an intern of his own to fulfill his every whim.
"Soon as you're willing to sell your soul for coffee," Taub answered with that dry condemnation of his.
Unfolding the package, Amber smiled. Frederick had been generous. "Not just coffee, but bagels and muffins." Besides her, Thirteen sputtered with the indignation she imagined the situation called for. Amber didn't see what the big deal was. "I didn't make him do anything he didn't want to. You heard him, he said it was no trouble. Whatever idea he got is his own fault." Cole shook his head, going back to his book. Brennan glared at her as if he'd been the one fooled (maybe he had indeed been the fool, with someone else) and fell into a quiet yet heated discussion with Kutner and Taub.
Amber knew what they were saying, but she didn't care. Her focus remained the same. Low so that only Thirteen would hear, "Admit it, you thought it was funny-- I saw you about to laugh." Inside the bag were a pair of knives and forks-- had he thought "later" would be "now"?-- and assorted topping packets. Amber lifted a knife. "Want some?" She wouldn't eat it all, and while she'd never share with an enemy, rules could be broken in the name of strategy. If she could "butter" Thirteen up, she would.
"But you're right." Amber bent her head, slicing one of the bagels in half. "He didn't have a chance. Not as long as--" she cut off. They'd agreed to be discreet. It had been her idea, and she'd been the one to insist on the plan. But if she wanted to make Thirteen trust her, open up her own secrets, didn't Amber have to give a little first? And this would send Eric the signal, loud and clear, what he could expect from her. He wouldn't falsely trust her anymore. If he ever said anything that even vaguely meant that he liked or wanted her, Amber would believe him. "I'm-- Eric and I--" God, she didn't even know how to finish that sentence in her mind, much less out loud.
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He looked about ready to explode.
Amber wouldn't ditch him hard. He'd done what she'd asked with little effort on her part, and quickly, too. She'd be a fool to throw away such an asset. Who knew what else she could con him into? "Maybe later," she said, tone intentionally ambiguous, "I have work now."
Perfect. Somewhere between insinuation and brush off, the kid was so confused he panicked and bolted. He'd be kicking himself for screwing up his chance, and the next time she needed a favor, he'd be available.
"Can we do that?" Kutner asked, looking round with wide eyes, as if somewhere there were an intern of his own to fulfill his every whim.
"Soon as you're willing to sell your soul for coffee," Taub answered with that dry condemnation of his.
Unfolding the package, Amber smiled. Frederick had been generous. "Not just coffee, but bagels and muffins." Besides her, Thirteen sputtered with the indignation she imagined the situation called for. Amber didn't see what the big deal was. "I didn't make him do anything he didn't want to. You heard him, he said it was no trouble. Whatever idea he got is his own fault." Cole shook his head, going back to his book. Brennan glared at her as if he'd been the one fooled (maybe he had indeed been the fool, with someone else) and fell into a quiet yet heated discussion with Kutner and Taub.
Amber knew what they were saying, but she didn't care. Her focus remained the same. Low so that only Thirteen would hear, "Admit it, you thought it was funny-- I saw you about to laugh." Inside the bag were a pair of knives and forks-- had he thought "later" would be "now"?-- and assorted topping packets. Amber lifted a knife. "Want some?" She wouldn't eat it all, and while she'd never share with an enemy, rules could be broken in the name of strategy. If she could "butter" Thirteen up, she would.
"But you're right." Amber bent her head, slicing one of the bagels in half. "He didn't have a chance. Not as long as--" she cut off. They'd agreed to be discreet. It had been her idea, and she'd been the one to insist on the plan. But if she wanted to make Thirteen trust her, open up her own secrets, didn't Amber have to give a little first? And this would send Eric the signal, loud and clear, what he could expect from her. He wouldn't falsely trust her anymore. If he ever said anything that even vaguely meant that he liked or wanted her, Amber would believe him. "I'm-- Eric and I--" God, she didn't even know how to finish that sentence in her mind, much less out loud.