11
“Well, don’t you look like shit.”
Kara was nursing her coffee and ignoring the Belgian blueberry waffles on her plate.
Good. Now she could ignore Trisha instead. It took more effort and attention to ignore a person than an inanimate meal. Maybe that would keep her distracted.
“I see that your boyfriend left.”
Left? Kara jolted up, ignoring the hot coffee that sloshed onto her hand other than to curse the sudden external pain added to the internal and scanned the room. No white cowboy hat! How could—
“Hold on, Kara. I wasn’t talking about Captain Roberts. I was talking about the nameless dude you, Michael, and the cowboy have been locked up with for the last four days.”
There, coming down the chow line. White hat. Tall Texan beneath it. She settled back, aware of Trisha holding on
