I groan when I wake up, because my head aches a little, and I certainly didn’t sleep well. Too much agonizing about my romantic woes, followed by remembering my actual problem, of course – that I’m tied up in a mafia investigation for the death of the heir to a rival family.
Yeah. It doesn’t make for a great night’s sleep, does it?
I sigh, and haul myself up, running my hands through my hair. And then I glance towards the kitchen door, desperately wanting a cup of coffee before I even get started pulling myself together for work.
I slip my legs over the side of the bed and into my fuzzy little slippers, waiting there for me, and sneak over to the door, cracking it open and peeking out of it. I don’t even really know why I’m trying to be sneaky – something about not wanting to see Franki
