Things got a little more sober after we had dressed and realized we needed to make some sort of plan for the day. Paul checked his cell phone and shook his head at the conspicuous lack of messages from Raymond or Jeff.
“It’s probably nothing,” I told him, after I scrunched some more de-frizzing serum into my hair and hoped for the best. Trying new products always filled me with trepidation, but the drugstore hadn’t carried the high-end salon brand I used. “You saw how Raymond was. He’s probably still glued to that microscope. He’ll call us when he has more information. Come on — let me buy you breakfast.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “You’re right. And by the time we’re done with breakfast, it should be late enough for you to call this Tyler person.”
I glanced at my watch. A little past n
