Something dark glints in Caspar's eyes. How nice it would be to fight fire with fire, as Harley so eloquently put it, and not hold his tongue as usual. "Tell you what," he says, "If either of us catch them making trouble, we let the other one know. And then we can handle the situation together."

His gaze is on a row of decorative keychains, which doesn't seem to warrant such a frown. Realizing that Harley is reacting to his words, he schools his expression back into something more neutral. "A friend of Adia's already took her here and bought her something. Which is fine, except I have the distinct feeling that this 'friend' of hers would like me out of the picture."