9
Rebecca awoke to the sun shining into her room and Spike scratching at the door. She glanced at her cell phone, surprised to find it was already 9:00 A.M. She had either slept through her alarm or had turned it off in her sleep.
She raked her fingers through her hair, and rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up. She needed to call Eastwood and tell him not to worry. She was rarely late, and he might think something had happened to her after her horrible Saturday night.
Spike again clawed at the door and whimpered. “Don’t do that, Spike,” she said. “You’re a guest here. Don’t mess up the door. Just wait, I’ll take you outside.”
She got out of bed. She slept in what was basically an over-sized sweatshirt with the sleeves cut to her elbows. It was so thick, unrevealing and sexless she though
