Her question in reply took Orpheus a moment to comprehend. He turned from making his own Manhattan and eyed her suspiciously. She wasn't going to go along with it, was she? Everything with her was going to be a fight, wasn't it? Oh the life he had to look forward to.
Grabbing a lowball glass and a cherry for his drink, he leaned up against the door frame for a moment. He took only a single sip as he stared at her, his expression difficult to read. Finally, he crossed his left arm across his chest, leaving the one holding his glass out in front of him. "You work for the Ministry, don't you, Juliana," the name felt awkward in his mouth, like a foreign word a linguist was trying out for the first time.
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