Brooke lowered herself into her chair and gently crossed one leg over the other. She brushed her dark chestnut waves off of her shoulders and smiled as charmingly as she could at D'Artagnan. There were also drinks on the table. Sparkling saltwater mixed with some cuttlefish ink for the turtle, and a minty ginger iced tea for Brooke.

"So, how does this work? This time share of existence?"