Eric strolled into the living room wearing plaid shorts. He looked lean and tired. His hair was overgrown, and he was spotting more than a day’s stubble on his chin. An unlit cigarette was in his mouth, and an opened bottle of wine was in his hand.
He let out a huge sigh when he saw her. "How did you find me here?" he drawled.
"I have my ways," she retorted. "I want you to keep that in mind from now on, because you know I will find you if I want to."
"What do you want?"
Angela chuckled, clearly unamused. "What do I want? Really, you ask me, what do I want?"
Eric opened the windows and peeked. He turned to her. "I hope you weren’t followed."
She frowned.
"The media? They have been camping at my house and office and every other place they know, hoping to get the first piece of informa
