Juma dozed off after a stony, sullen hour with Beowulf and a book light. Rose cradled the camellia blossom while Jack went from news to music to a football game on the radio. He made a few unsuccessful attempts to reach Gil and asked a couple of questions about features of her phone, but nothing could drown out the deep silence that hung between him and Rose. Her cell rang: Miles. Soothing him wouldn’t be fun while Jack eavesdropped, but anything was better than this silence. She flipped it open. “Rose! You tried to call me. Are you on the way back to Chicago?” Maybe this wasn’t better. “No, of course not.” Miles cursed. “Rose, I need you here. Titania’s made me a wonderful offer. It will save the shop!” Rose tried to ignore the nausea burbling in her gut. “She wants a costume, and she’s prepared to pay an absolutely obscene amount if we do it right away.” “That’s great.” It was also bullshit. “But it has nothing to do with me.” “Of course it does. The Elizabethan gown impressed her so much that she’s determined to have you and only you make her costume.”
