“Well,” Declan mused, a dry smirk forming on his lips. “That climatic detail seems weirdly relevant to our current situation, doesn’t it?”
Kyle let out a sudden, bark-like laugh into his glass. Brooke shot him another death glare before attempting to wrench the conversation back onto its intended tracks.
“Anyway, Declan,” Brooke chirped, gesturing grandly toward me. “This is my older brother, Rupert. He works in… municipal maintenance.”
Declan extended a hand. I shook it. His grip was surprisingly firm. “What specific sector of maintenance?”
“High-altitude structural repair,” I answered.
Declan’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m sorry, what does that actually entail?”
“Building exterior preservation, rooftop mechanical systems, industrial crane inspections, suspension work. Occasional rope access when scaffolding isn’t viable.”
His eyes widened. “Wait. You physically hang off the sides of skyscrapers?”
Brooke waved her hand, attempting to literally brush the topic out of the air. “Oh, Rupert makes it sound drastically more cinematic than it actually is. It’s mostly just patching concrete.”
