The Ember-trap party hadn't been any better. They had a lot to make up for.

(But Eliot had been without Margo for longer than she'd been without him, thanks to the time differences, and he'd had a good long while to get past his anger at her for trading his unborn child. And he'd never held grudges quite the same way she did.)

"God yes," he agreed. "Couches along every wall. Though that doesn't leave us much room for a dance floor, unless maybe we sacrifice the dining room. . . ."