FORTY-TWO
When Gaia woke up on the couch the next morning, her eyes darted first to the table, to see if the papers were still there. Yes, they were.
Groggily, she clambered to her feet, wincing as every bit of her body protested. Actually, not every bit. Her head seemed remarkably pain free, even after the amount she'd drunk last night. It must have been all the water she'd gulped down after she got home. Huh. Water as a hangover cure. Who'd have guessed?
She staggered stiffly over to the table to check that Jay really had signed the contract. Yep, his autograph spilled over half the page, all curlicues and flourishes and finished with a kiss – or at least an x. Gaia snorted. So much for a businesslike signature like she'd cultivated for two decades. Jay made a performance out of it, l
