Snippet #2466653

Bailey quickly got a hold of herself and left the stall, a horrid taste in her mouth. She turned on the faucet and sighed heavily, cupping some water and washing away the taste. She watched her hand as it proceeded to shake. Balling her hand into a fist she lightly slammed down on the counter “Breathe. Just breathe.” She took a few minutes to compose herself before leaving the bathroom and making her way to her office.

Opening the door she was greeted to a man leaning back on her chair reading a file with his feet crossed and resting on her desk. She leaned on the doorknob in curiosity “Excuse me.”
The file dropped to his lap revealing Dexter Morrison, greeting her with a cheeky smile, who had seemed to gladly make himself right at home at her desk.

“Of course it’s you,” she walked over to the desk and grabbed the file “and you've already got the Handprint Killer file. Only problem is this,” she closed the file “is my copy. The copy your boots are getting messed up, is yours.”