Augustus met my gaze. Behind him, the quartet remained mercifully silent.
"There's a great deal I like," he said. "Your intelligence. Your confidence. The way you notice things others overlook."
"But?"
His eyes flicked toward the elaborate table.
"I struggle with your extravagance. Your impulsiveness. Sometimes I worry you don't consider the consequences of your choices."
Each word settled heavily between us.
"Those qualities are somehow less real than my professional side?"
"I didn't say that."
"You're thinking it."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I thought you'd outgrown some of those habits."
Outgrown.
As if I were a child who still needed correcting.
"You mean stopped being myself."
"I mean learned to channel your energy differently."
"Into something you approve of."
"Juliette, please."
