Chapter 133: Some Lessons Die Hard
Days later, with my hair wrapped tightly in one of Vincent's soft bathroom towels, I step up to the bathroom mirror. Without thinking about it, because I've done it this way every day since high school, I reach to the right to grab my favorite lipstick from the counter. I can't always be trusted to put on a full face of makeup to go work in the marketing department, but my mother taught me from a young age to never leave the house without lipstick.
Some lessons die hard.
With my lips the perfect shade of deep red, which makes them look plumper, I recap the lipstick and set it to the side as if I'm in my apartment. But it's a weird because this is Vincent's penthouse. He's letting me take over his space, but it doesn't seem right. It's not mine. Even if I've messed up his bathroom in record time.
A quick look to my left shows my blow dryer plugged in, the cord hanging haphazardly over the edge of the counter in my normal habit.