Margo.
She was dressed conservatively enough in jeans and a semi-see-through sweater, but wore a-look of determined sweetness that didn’t fit the tilt of her chin. “Hello, Mr. Carson. May I join you?”
Kit coughed, still half-choked on the bite in his throat. He grabbed the coffee cup and gulped, scalding the roof of his mouth and his tongue. Kit burned the back of his throat, too; but the steaming liquid dislodged the bite of steak. He wheezed, swallowing while he blinked involuntary tears. He finally sat back and glared at her. This was the second time she’d nearly strangled him, catching him off-guard like that. Christ, I’m losing my touch if a half-grown kid can damn near kill me twice in two days.
”Still here, I see,” he growled, still sounding half strangled. “I was hoping you’d gone home.”
Margo’s smile was chilly. “I told you, Mr. Carson. I have no intention of going home. I’m going to be a time scout and I don’t care what it takes.”
He thought about Catherine the Great and her Russian boar and wondered what this green kid would’ve done in that situation. Gone all schoolgirl incensed, or burst in protesting cruelty to animals?
”Uh-huh. Just how much money have you got, kid?”
Her face flushed unbecomingly. “Enough. And I’ve applied for a job.”
”Doing what?” Kit blurted. “Serving drinks in that damned leather miniskirt of yours?”
Margo’s eyes narrowed. “Listen, Mr. Carson, I will stay on this terminal, no matter how long it takes or who I have to find to teach me. But I’m going to be a time scout. I was hoping I could persuade you to change your mind. I’m not stupid and I have some pretty good ideas about overcoming the handicap of my gender. But I’m not going to stand here and be insulted like some truant school kid, because I am not a child.”