80.
The elevator doors open.
“He’s my security.” Rian raises his eyebrows; his security man raises an umbrella.
As they exit into the rain, Rian points. “You’ve been on a chopper before?”
“Of course.” Milly looks out toward the glossy, black helicopter. She blinks twice.
Inside the cockpit, the pilot glances up. “Shit!” He finishes snorting his drugs and wipes off, checking his nose in the mirror as the door opens.
Security offers Milly a hand to help her inside.
Rian follows. “What do you think?” His hand — light olive skin with manicured fingernails — caresses orange upholstery.
“It’s nice.” Milly sits with a shiver.
“Increase the heat,” Rian says. The AI dings in compliance. “My pilot’s here tonight, not just AI, ‘cause of the weather. So, no worries.”
“I’m not worried.” Milly fiddles with her phone settings — voice commands back on. She glances at the Moon through the window as the helicopter takes off with the four inside.
Rian describes his condominium they’ll soon see.
His bragging is insufferable and unworthy of description.
But Milly nods attentively.
Yet that stare of hers … she’s almost a thousand miles away.