"Zane Jennings, don't be curious about my past."
'It's too filthy,' she thought. 'I don't want anyone to know.'
With a single sentence, she once again pushed away the person standing outside her cage.
Zane Jennings hesitated for a moment.
He pulled on his jacket, zipped it up, and took a few steps back. He fished a cigarette case from his pocket, pulled one out, and held it between his lips. Leaning against the table, he lit it. "What if I insist on being curious?"
He was dressed in all black, the zipper pulled up to his neck. The cigarette between his lips moved up and down as he spoke, giving him the look of a roguish playboy.
Erin Lowell looked up, her eyes meeting his. She racked her brain for another way to refuse him.
The smoke was faint, but enough to blur the contours of his face. Zane Jennings took a drag, then stubbed the cigarette out on the table. "Tomorrow at seven p.m., I'll be waiting for you in the consulting room on the third floor."
