Lexus.
It was impossible to focus on work that evening. My mind, traitorous as ever, kept drifting to her. Billie. The walking, talking headache that had somehow taken up real estate in my brain like she was paying rent.
When she walked out of the bathroom earlier, wrapped in nothing but that towel, her silhouette had triggered something deep in my subconscious. A memory. That girl by the river. It couldn't be her… could it?
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. This was bad. I had never let a woman invade my thoughts like this before. It was like she'd crawled inside my head, set up camp, and was roasting marshmallows over my last brain cell.
Frustrated, I ordered tacos. I hate ordering food. I'd rather have a home-cooked meal, but I wouldn't trust that little pest to cook for me even if my life depended on it. Knowing her, she'd probably season the chicken with toilet water and serve it with a smile so innocent even Lucifer himself would be fooled.
