You could try being nice.
‘Go on, then,’ he said when Esme shot him another look. ‘Give your brother a call.’
And there it was. The first chink in his ‘don’t ask for help’ armour. If you don’t ask, you don’t need. And if you don’t need, you’re never disappointed. It was a little pact he’d made with himself when the Dictator had asked him to put a value on himself the very first Christmas they’d spent together. Turned out the pair of them had disagreed.
It hadn’t been a very nice Christmas.
When Esme’s smile of thanks hit him on full beam, he began to wonder if his pact had flaws.
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