“I don’t think we’re giving anything away by saying that our dear Master and liege, Ethan Sullivan, is a little bit—” “Particular,” Lindsey finished. “He’s very, very particular.” “Yeah,” I said dryly, “I had a sense.” “He’s also a creature of routine,” Margot explained. “Of personality tics and habits. Quirks, you might say, that can grate on the nerves.” “Like the tag in the back of a really scratchy sweater,” Lindsey suggested. Margot winked at her. “Every so often, we gather together. We take a little time—a little cathartic time—to vent about those quirks that drive us crazy.” Elbows on
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