He frowned. “How would you…? Wait. You were watching me get dressed?” His tone of voice conveyed his outrage at her invasion of his privacy.
“Oh, come on. How much do you think I could see hiding under the bed so you wouldn’t find me? Not much, I can tell you that. Mostly what I saw was your feet. Your shoes and socks. Your pants cuffs.”
“And from that you deduced I was an accountant?”
Seriously? Pizza and beer? Forget his feet. There was a lot to work with here. “Thomas L. Purdue. You’re about to make me swoon.” She picked up the beer and drank. Then took another bite of pizza, closed her eyes and savored.
Was that a hint sympathy she saw in his eyes? Work it, said that desperate little voice inside Hallie’s head. And be nice even if it kills you.
Look, I fed you. I didn’t call the cops on you. And there’s a good chance that will come back to bite me on the ass. I presume you were wearing shoes when you arrived. So get them. Put them on and skedaddle.” He waved in the direction of the door.
Hallie crossed her arms. “No.”
He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table, his eyes boring into her. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been living under my bed. For two days.”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Well, I wasn’t under the bed the whole time. Only when you were here.”