Page 55 of Gunslinger Girl

He smiled as she approached. “Hello again.”

“Good morning.” Pity struggled to recall his first name. Peter… no, Patrick. Patrick Sheridan.

“Wait here a moment, please.” The Tin Man went over to a display set in the wall.

Pity smoothed a hair behind her ear, wondering what Sheridan was doing here. “I should thank you again for the wine. It was the best thing I drank all night.”

“One thing among many, I’m sure.”

“Unfortunately.”

He chuckled—a sincere, disarming sound. “You were celebrating. And from what I can tell, a hangover is practically the morning uniform around here.”

But not for you. Sheridan’s crisp demeanor rivaled Beau’s. “Well, I’ve tried it on and I can’t say I like it.”

The Tin Man returned as the elevator door dinged open. “You can go up now.”

“Not that I’m complaining,” Sheridan said as the doors closed, “but I was under the impression that I’d have Selene to myself this morning. Getting her alone is something of a challenge, it seems. She prefers to conduct business after dark, among her…distractions. I, however, do not.”

And what business is that, exactly? Pity wondered, recalling what Max had said about all the illicit dealings that took place at Casimir.

“Then again, now that your boyfriend isn’t here, maybe I’ll have a chance to hear your story.”

Pity tensed. “Max isn’t my boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s only that he seemed quite defensive of you.”

“It’s all right,” she lied. A gut-sick feeling stirred in her. “Max is just a friend. And there’s not much to tell. We… I was headed for the eastern cities. Things turned out different.”

Selene was watering one of her potted trees as they stepped out of the elevator. “Ah, there you are.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” Pity spied Adora, spinning lazily in Selene’s chair, and Beau, stone-still by the terrace door. “I hope we didn’t make you wait.”

“Not at all. It’s not too early, is it? Sometimes I forget that morning isn’t Casimir’s forte, but I’ve always been an early riser.”

“I’ll confess, Selene,” said Sheridan, reaching out to touch the broad, flat leaves of the tree. “All these plants, from all over the world. I don’t know how you keep them alive out here in the middle of this barren nothing.”

“It’s simple.” Selene’s words came out as ripe as the little fruits on the tree beside her. “Providing one knows what it takes to keep them thriving. Adora, have the meal sent out now, will you?”

Selene led them to the terrace, beyond where Beau stood, half cast in the morning light. He eyed Pity, waiting until Selene and Sheridan had passed before tapping the breast of his jacket. Pity brushed a thumb over the butt of one gun in response.

A pair of Tin Men were stationed outside, one at either end of the large, curved balcony. In the center sat a table set for three—three plates, three sets of utensils on linen napkins, and one white envelope. There was a faint breeze, carrying with it a melodious hum from the city below. Drawn by the sound, Pity went to the edge of the terrace. Below, a dense white mass billowed along the black road that led to Casimir. The Reformationists, she realized, in their pristine white robes, singing hymns. They gathered around the great fountain, their voices strengthening, though Pity still couldn’t pick out the words.

Sheridan came up beside her. “Looks like we’ll have a serenade. Did you arrange this, Selene?”

“Absolutely not,” she replied, though not without a hint of playfulness. “But they’re almost pleasant from this distance, aren’t they?”

“I’m surprised you let them get that close.” He went to the table and pulled out Selene’s chair. “Seems like they could be bad for trade.”

“They’re harmless. A few good souls to help balance out the bad.”

Sheridan moved on to Pity’s seat. She slid into it.

“Thank you, Mr. Sheridan.”

“Patrick, please.”

Pity unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap, burying her hands in it as the food arrived. The others began serving themselves, but she waited, feeling like an extra body at the table. She might have earned her place in Casimir, but she hadn’t gotten the seat warm quite yet.