[I've been obsessed with cooking and baking these past few days. I'm having a blast reading recipes and haven't written a single word of the main story. Don't wait up, go to bed.]
"Septimus, I just saw Executive Chen..."
Voley poked his head through the cloth curtain in the room, a strange expression on his face.
"Didn't I tell you? Call me Marcie!"
"Marcie"—or rather, Septimus himself—had been sitting on the bed, lost in thought. He looked up and snapped impatiently before asking, "What did he want?"
"Right, right!" Voley stepped into the room, smiling cautiously. "Uh, he seemed to have had a lot to drink. His face was all red... I don't know if he saw you somewhere, but he suddenly grabbed me and kept asking if I had seen Marcie—and, well—I think he might be... interested."
It was the kind of insinuation that any man would understand. Septimus's head shot up, his face a mask of surprise.
"So that's what he was after that day," he muttered to himself.
