Bowles—assembled his masterpiece of a red cast. The “casting room” as Rich had called it, was the size of a small conference room with whitewashed walls and an examining table dead center. She had opted for the chair rather than the table. Along the one wall was a roughed-up counter with cabinets. On top were shiny metal instruments and a couple of electric saws with circular blades. In the far corner stood Gabe, wearing low-slung jeans, a plain black sweater and the confidence of someone who knew how to control a room. Here was a man who, on his day off, insisted on taking her to the doctor. When it came to men, women, and the sudden exploration of their sexual attraction, mornings after were always tough. This one was tough for all the wrong reasons. Gabe rarely got a full day off and he’d offered to drive her to the doctor when he could have been sleeping or doing whatever it was he did on his downtime. For that reason alone she should have boffed his brains out. Therefore, she could only surmise that her morning after discomfort had nothing to do with a one-night stand.
