Cullen seemed to be in an amicable mood, which suited Argento rather well, and he was pleased to hear that Cullen remembered him, too, given that they had been only fleeting acquaintances years ago. Yet there was a subtle stiffness between them, and Gent could not figure out whether it was just the silent posturing of stallions or something more. Nonetheless, Gent’s freckled pink lips curved in a smile of pleasure, which lit up his blue eyes like sea glass.

“So it seems,” Gent replied agreeably. “But don’t worry, I didn’t come to reclaim the position or anything like that. Leadership never truly suited me. Too much responsibility for my taste.” Gent let his gaze wander casually out to sea, but one blue eye snapped back to Cullen’s face to see how he would receive that.

“You’ve done better than I could have ever done, anyway. This place was dead as a stump when I left it, and now it’s absolutely heaving. Kudos.” Shifting his weight in the snow, Gent faced Cullen fully and offered him a smile. “How did you do it?”