Jessie’s tone was strident, even indignant. She was dressed in a tight-fitting black tank top and black jeans over worn red cowboy boots. Her dark hair hung down past her shoulders and the color was rising in her cheeks. Eric lifted his eyebrows, amused and intrigued by this new persona—the real Jessie, he now knew. He stepped beside her and put the key into the padlock he’d purchased that afternoon. Opening the door to the unit, he gestured her inside. “Care to show me around?” Instead of entering the space, Jessie took a step back. “Look, it’s not what you think—” she began. “Oh? And what is it I think? Why don’t you tell me, Princess Lola.” She turned her large, dark eyes on him. They filled with tears but Eric remained unmoved. “Please, Eric,” she said, now using the soft, submissive voice she used in the office. “I—I wasn’t doing any harm. I’ll get it all cleared out right away.” No harm, except nearly killing some poor fucker, Eric thought, but he held his tongue, not yet ready to tip his hand.
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