<div style="margin: auto; max-width: 700px"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">A nod of her head indicated she remembered his fondness for taking photos, followed by a reminiscent smile. She remembered he often carried a camera around, never missing an opportunity to snap pictures of his current muse. “Nude photos?” Layla quirked a brow, smirking as he continued to pique her interest. Her mind wandered to the types of photos he took; curious if he was downplaying the tastefulness of them. Regardless, the woman was happy his keen interest had blossomed into something fruitful. “Is it difficult to find models?” her question was playful, enquiring. She wasn’t the type to offer her services in the realm of nude modelling, however it was intriguing, nonetheless. At times, Layla wished she were more adventurous, more of a risk taker. Every decision she made was calculated, all the benefits and risks splayed out for analysis. Being a detective had forced her into that mindset, moulded her into that type of person.<br/>
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“I’m glad Thomas has you. It’s nice you have both stayed in contact all these years,” Layla murmured, sipping her drink as she relaxed into the chair. The morning glow began to stream across the outdoor area, pooling over her delicate features and warming her mane of blonde. She smiled as he complimented her home, appreciative of his observations. “Yes, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a fair bit of each other. This town begins to feel small sometimes when you find familiar faces,” her tone was warm, welcoming. Although she didn’t know Victor too well, especially now they were much older, she appreciated the friendship he had with her brother. Therefore, she instantly regarded him as a friend.<br/>
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“You’re totally fine. Today’s my day off actually. A day where I <i>finally </i>don’t have to slump over my desk all day,” Layla grinned, shuffling forward in her chair, “I’m more than happy to drop you home. I was actually going out to grab some groceries anyway today. These morning breakfast with Thomas really do deplete my food supplies.” Gentle laughter followed, amusement light within her tone as she stood and traipsed back into the kitchen. She hooked her car keys from the counter and waited for Vic to follow her inside.<br/>
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“You were never a nuisance — cheeky, but not a nuisance,” the woman mused, swaying towards the door that lead to her garage. She pressed the key to unlock the car and clambered in behind the steering wheel. <br/>
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Once they were on the road, Layla rolled down the windows slightly, allowing the fresh morning air to penetrate the car. In the background, Pearl Jam hummed through the speakers. “Do you remember going on roadtrips with my parents and they would play Pearl Jam the entire time?” Layla shook her head, turning the speakers up slightly as she reminisced on their childhood, “It drove me <i>crazy.” </i>She glanced in Victor’s direction briefly. “Actually, they are having a concert downtown in a few weeks time, maybe we should all go. I’m sure you remember all the words too, Vic,” Layla teased, running nimble fingers through her sea of blonde, wrangling strands behind her air that had been windblown. <br/>
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“Oh, also, you’ll have to let me know which exit to take. I actually don’t know where you live,” she perched forward, glancing at the road signage, “I promise I won’t stalk you or anything.” A cheeky remark.</span><br/>
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