“I get the feeling you’re not selling cookies."
“Honestly, that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.” Tony kept one hand on the dog, turning his attention back to his phone. “Never had a dog. Dad was anti-childhood so…”
“Except I tend to be a fairly social person.” She pointed out. “My childhood was full of me being a little shit, then drugs and sex till my parents died.” She rubbed her face and plopped on the couch, automatically sitting so she was curled against him.
He raised his eyebrows at the contact, but didn’t say anything, still looking at his phone. “Funny. For me, the rebellion came after my parents went.” He double tapped the enlarge button on his phone and it projected a hologram of what he had been looking at. “Police say gas leak,” he said, nodding at the article displayed, which featured a picture of her burned down house. “Bet that’s not what you think, though.”
She snorted. “My home had no gas. It was run by solar panels. Plus, look.” She pointed at the corner that had it the worst. “That was my bedroom, there would be no gas pipes there.”
“Also, Daddy was a preacher, he had his son, I was just a brat daughter that was in the way all the time. Harlem is no place for a teenage girl. Not in the seventies.”
