#adamfosterr

Austen plopped down at the table across from the stranger. “Be a doll, won’t you?” she asked, letting her bag drop onto the table between them before she pulled off her high heels. “These shoes are killing me and there’s nowhere else to sit. Well, at least nowhere interesting. I’ve never been one for sitting by myself, honestly. You’re probably that kind of person, considering that you were sitting by yourself before I got here, but I think that you should consider my arrival into your quiet afternoon a vast improvement on the day.”

Finn leaned against the front desk at the hotel, a picture pulled up on their phone that they showed to the man sitting on the other side. “You seen this guy walk through? Probably had some scantily clad woman along with him?” Finn tongued the ring in their lip lightly, waiting impatiently for the response—they had very little patience most days, and when it came to cases, they had no patience at all. Even when it came to cases menial as this one—cheating cases were always boring—Finn liked to get the job done right.

“Okay, so I’m just about to lose my shit,” Beck said, as if that was any way to start a conversation with someone working in a hotel. “It took me three hours to find this place, right? And then it turns out it’s the wrong place, and I’m already an hour late to the gig I had, so basically, I’m just fucked.” He leaned against the desk. “And I know it’s kind of weird to be assaulting you with all this random shit about my day, but it’s not like this place is busy right now and I’m sure you’re bored and if I don’t get it out of me, I might explode.”