Chapter 463 Rain Patters Down

Maxwell just shrugged. "An old buddy was into them, dragged me along a few times. Saw them on my way back and figured you'd enjoy them, so here they are." I gave a noncommittal hum, popped a few crawfish into my mouth, and then, unable to help myself, I cracked open the cake box for a sweet treat. The dance of spicy and sweet on my tongue was a sensation like no other, and it was exactly what I needed. The funk I had been in started to lift. What they said was true: food is magic. It could wash away a world of woes. He was thumbing through a book, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere—on me. "Haven't you checked out any other books?" he asked. I glanced back at him, clueless. "Got anything worth reading? It's all economics here. Think I would be into that?" He curled an eyebrow and let out a soft laugh. "Fair point." He paused, then started to say something else, "So..." "You want to know if I saw those papers on your desk, right?" I cut in, tired of his roundabout way of aski