Page 17 of Alder Woodacre and the Acorns of Affection (Amaranthine Interludes #3)

Boniface Smythe was scoring high on the list of the funniest things Kip had ever seen.

The man was way too posh for a little place like Archer, worthy of caviar and candlelight suppers and snifters of cognac.

Yet here he sat under florescent lighting in a bright orange booth, his sleeves rolled past his elbows, necktie tossed over his shoulder while trying to eat a hot pastrami sandwich neatly .

Almost as funny was Argent not giving a flip about the state of his tunic.

Nonny snickered and snapped pictures of the mounting devastation, which he texted to Jacques.

The guest list for this evening’s indulgence was necessarily short. There were only two booths in the back of the gas station where Swifty’s did a brisk business in hot sandwiches and handmade ice cream.

Argent, Nonny, Inti, and Jiro took up one booth.

Argent lifted a cheese-smeared hand to signal for a second sandwich.

“Gotchu,” Kip said. “I recommend the brisket.” He was roving, mostly between the counter and the tables, recommending menu items like a sandwich sommelier.

In the second booth, Kurloo was deep in conversation with Resplendence Starmark, one of Linlu’s escorts from Wardenclave. She sat beside her younger brother Reveille, who was on his third sandwich and showing no signs of slowing down.

“Another?” Kip offered.

The Starmark adolescent, who was the spitting image of big brother Harmonious, grinned gratefully.

Another round ordered, Kip turned from the counter, and Jiro caught his eye. He hurried to his bondmate’s side. “Need something?”

“Umm … Boniface does.”

Jacques’ brother went to set his sandwich down, then thought better of it. That’s how it was at Swifty’s. Once you started, you were committed.

“Lend him to me,” said Boniface. It wasn’t really a request.

Jiro helpfully raised his hand. “He means me.”

Kip was still trying to get a feel for this guy.

Boniface was not like Jacques, but also not not like Jacques.

Brisk and bossy, yet not overbearing. A capable guy.

Attentive to details. And genuinely liked by every other member of his travel party.

Even Argent, who reached over to swipe a paper napkin across Boniface’s chin.

“Lord, I’m not three ,” the man complained. Quickly followed by, “Did you get it all?”

“You are holding up well enough,” Argent replied blandly.

Boniface shot him a startled look, then attacked his sandwich again. But … happily.

Since his mouth was full, Jiro was left to explain. “Boniface needs to go into Fletching tomorrow, and he asked me to go along.”

“Oh, yeah? What for?”

Once Boniface was able, he answered, “I have an assignation of sorts. Arranged by my brother. And while I don’t foresee any difficulty finding the establishment, Jackie sent a trunk.”

Kip couldn’t summon up any affront, but teasing? Easy. “You want the headman of the Red Gate Enclave to carry your bag.”

“ Oui .”

“It’s fine,” Jiro quickly interjected.

“It’ll stretch his boundaries or whatever,” added Boniface. “ Someone has to take him out once in a while.”

“I … could ,” Kip said, feeling defensive. “It’s just that I have work.”

“Right, then.” Boniface smiled serenely at Jiro and said, “It’s a date.”