<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"I can't eat anymore right now..."</span>she muttered, bringing her hands up to the table to push the food away from her.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"I just don't feel good right now. I'll finish it later,"</span>she promised, though she wasn't sure she'd be able to. She was pondering what to say in response to Carlos' words and she couldn't help but give a sigh.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"Carlos, if the guy hit Tom and knows that I talked to you, I'm already in trouble. There's nothing that can be done about that," </span>she tried to reason. He couldn't just let a killer stay loose on the streets because of some desire to protect her. He needed to catch the guy.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"If you got him, it would be good for your reputation and when you do quit the force, it'll help  promote your PI business,"</span>Lea was having a hard time not being annoyed by Carlos' protectiveness.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"You can't just drop everything to come watch me at a nightclub. You won't like it, I won't like it, and it'll piss the manager off and I might not get to dance,"</span>her voice had barely constrained anger in it. She was trying to keep calm and not snap at Carlos. She knew he meant well, but she needed to make money and he needed to attend to his own duties.