Convincing himself that this was a good idea had taken considerably less time than it had taken Monty to actually go through with it. He wouldn’t call it fear, but it was still hard to be excited about purposefully walking into a conversation with a woman who’d wanted to put his head through the wall the first time he’d met her. Or the floor of the coroner’s office. She hadn’t seemed particular at the time, and he couldn’t ignore the possibility that today would end the same, when he still didn’t know why she did it.
That was part of the problem. He still didn’t know. Harder to shake than what should’ve been self-preservation, and that was even quieter than his unease after hearing about her conversation with Osun. Either way, it was what had him walking through the doors of Lou’s, purposefully choosing the quieter hours between lunch and dinner. Settling quietly on one of the red stools at the counter, fingers laced in front of him.
“Sam.” Uncomfortably absent of any honorifics, considering, but it was the name he had for her. “Do you have a minute?”
@nitasamsaradavid
