Lola
You're spying on me.
Me
Is it spying if you're turned on?
Her cheeks flush darker.
Lola
I'm not.
How?
Me
Do you really want the answer to that?
Lola
You put a camera in under the guise of sending me flowers.
Me
I wanted to send you flowers. The rest seemed a natural extension of the other night.
She is on her feet, looking around.
Me
You will never find it.
Lola sits on the edge of her bed in her oversized T-shirt that shows delightful flashes of her panties when she moves. Not the lacy number from the other night.
Lola
You came in here?
I lie, just a little.
Me
Not me, someone else. I don't know the first thing about it.
Lola
I see.
Me
Does it freak you out that I like watching you?
She looks up and stares at one of the cameras, though there is no way she will be able to see it.
Lola
I should, but I find it kind of thrilling.
