Caleb was snapped out of his thoughts when Lola asked a question, and he turned to her to see the new outfit she was wearing. The short white tee shirt and the jeans she wore did her much more justice than the costume she dawned before, and after catching himself eyeing her up and down, he nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

If he wanted to keep her feeling as comfortable as he could so that she would be cooperative, he should probably start by not ogling her.

He turned his attention back to the television and sighed. He couldn’t keep this from his boss forever; he’d probably have to tell him within the next few days what really happened – that is, if he’s not told first by someone else. Although they had always agreed never to kill women, witnessing a murder is something that Smith probably wouldn’t take lightly. He was probably doing Lola a favor by keeping it under wraps right now, not that he owed her one. He did yell at her to go inside before things had gotten out of hand. 

“Look,” he spoke up as he cleared his throat. “Just chill for a little bit. I’m gonna figure this out for the both of us. You’re better off here than in the hands of my boss or crew.” He glanced back over to her in the kitchen. “Just [i]please[/i] don’t do anything stupid. If you run, or call the cops, we’re both dead.” 

He took a swig of his beer and reclined into the couch, trying to focus on the TV rather than the thoughts swarming in his head. Ones of Jimmy’s funeral. Ones of the mess he got himself into. Ones of how he wished his hostage was less attractive – it’d probably be easier to take care of this if she was. He hasn’t gone this easy on someone since he was a teenager, and it wasn’t doing much for his ego. He knew eventually push would come to shove with her; she seemed to have a mouth on her. That, and an opinion on [i]everything.[/i]

“Can you pour me a glass, too?” he asked with his eyes glued to the screen.