“Aren’t you two dating Maximoff Hale and Jane Cobalt?” Protocol: do not engage more than necessary. I’m about to brush them off, but Farrow does it first. He loosely crosses his arms. “Who’s Maximoff Hale?” “We’re not idiots,” the brunette snaps, coming to a full stop in front of us. “You’re clearly Farrow Keene, and he’s Thatcher Moretti.” “Why are you coming in so hot, Barbra?” Donnelly asks the brunette. “Who the fuck is Barbra—and aren’t you the bodyguard to Beckett Cobalt? Where is he?” She stares around the hall like Beckett will materialize out of thin fucking air.
