Just the thought of working seemed insurmountable; forget about actually doing the work. She had been so close to speaking with Byron, to sharing everything with him, but she knew that would be a monumental mistake. Men like him couldn’t be trusted – hell, very few men actually could. She didn’t trust him or his motives, and she suspected that he was trying to gather evidence or something like that to use against her. She’d be a fool to forget that, to open her life and her heart to that man. And she’d been a fool one too many times already. She picked up her cooled-off coffee and took a drink. She didn’t even care that it tasted like crap. She was only in it — or vice versa —for the caffeine. She kept giving herself mental slaps to wake herself up. She couldn’t allow herself to think for even a single second that she and Byron had really shared anything together the last few days. They’d spent a weekend having sex.
