“You’re lying.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, yes. So?”

“You’re trouble.”

“I suppose.”

He walked away. She followed. He put his hand on the doorknob. She put hers on his shoulder and turned him towards her. He frowned. She stepped closer. He tried to ignore her, but she baited him with a smile, reeled him in with a gaze and gutted him, for good measure, with a kiss. He sighed and returned to the table. He looked down at the money-filled suitcase. She caressed his neck. The door was now out of reach. He was staying, law and life be damned.