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PI wereduck Tom and American Swan Princess Leda are still having lunch, eight sentences at a time. I don’t even think they’ve ordered yet . . .
But it’s become clear to Tom that she needs help—even if it isn’t his kind—and he’s been waiting for her to cut to the chase and tell him why she wanted to see him.
Turns out, it wasn’t entirely her idea.
“Daddy thought I might be able to convince you to meet with him.”
“He didn’t think about asking himself?”
“If you go to him first, he’s in a superior position, even if he’s the one who wants a favor,” she said, looking into her glass. “Daddy doesn’t like even ground.”
That surprised me; I’d always figured Leda was more intelligent than Jackie claimed but I’d never heard her speak against her father before.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She lifted the glass to her lips, threw back the contents in one quick motion, and set it down precisely where it had been. “No,” she said, “but I deserve it.”
I took out two sentences in the middle to make this fit the limit. Not sure now if I’ll put them back. I also combined Leda’s last line, but I think I like it better the other way. These are the things I worry about when I don’t actually want to write . . .
Fun fact: I chose that shoe up there from a whole page of Manolo Blahnik images, because it seemed like Leda’s sort of thing. When I clicked on it to save, I found out the design is called “Swan”. Dude.