Perdita strolled into the bedroom, her body wrapped in a towel, water drops glistening on her skin. She made no effort to acknowledge the man seated at his computer, whose eyes shot up at her entrance, followed by a groan of exaggerated delight.

“Goddamn, Lark, you look incredible when you’re wet,” he declared with unabashed admiration.

“I’m well aware,” she fired back without missing a beat, grabbing her makeup bag before heading towards the bathroom. ...