She shivered again when she realized she might’ve returned home to find the intruder already inside, waiting for her.
She looked around with a careful, vigilant gaze.
Nobody.
Freaking herself out over nothing. The lock picker was long gone.
She opened the mailbox quickly. Bills, bills, ads, bills . . . aha, a big card.
Charlotte pushed in the outgoing mail—bills plus a wedding card to her latest satisfied client.
She returned to her apartment. She dumped everything with the keys and ripped open the big envelope eagerly. Another thank-you card. It came with wedding photos from some exotic island with lots of sand and palm trees. Charlotte grinned at the sight of the former client wearing nothing but a bikini bottom and a big smile. The card’s handwritten message waxed eloquent with gratitude. The woman promised referrals. The clients usually did. Sometimes they even remembered to do it.
Charlotte gnawed her knuckle with the ongoing worry even as she enjoyed Tina’s clear happiness in the photo. She remembered watching the couple’s first movie. The woman’s expression had stretched into sexual ecstasy as that very same smiling gentleman, now wearing colorful swim trunks as he posed casually next to her, screwed her enthusiastically.
Some women had all the X-rated movie luck.