Who Needs a Dream? Who Needs Ambition?

Anatoly was lying, Florence was sure, but long experience had taught her that pushing grandmasters would get her nowhere. Freddie threw violent temper trantrums; Anatoly just withdrew. When he was ready, he'd talk, but until then, she had to give him his space.

"All right, she said lightly as she got out of the bed and padded over to retrieve her robe. "Shower's all yours and there'll be coffee when you get out."