Derrick punctuated the statement with the click of his seat belt and the slam of the driver’s-side door. Most of the apartment windows had their blinds down and shut tight, but a warm glow emanated from a few. He glanced up at the window of his and Scott’s place on the second floor. How would Brielle view the apartment? When was the last time they did the dishes...or vacuumed...or washed their laundry? He cringed. At least Scott’s car wasn’t here, although whether that boded well or ill remained to be seen. No use worrying now. He glanced at Brielle and found her struggling with all the silk or whatever it was surrounding her. He grinned as he rounded the hood and the open door, then leaned against the side of the car, arms folded. She spent a few more seconds pushing the pouf of her skirt this way and that, trying to find her feet, apparently. When she met his gaze, she gave a little shrug, smiling sheepishly. “I seem to be having some trouble.”
