> Ria was folding a shirt for the thousandth time when Derek's voice came
over
> the intercom. Since the incident the day before, he had been walking on
> eggshells and avoiding her like the plague, probably afraid of another of
her
> foul moods. She walked over to the nightstand, grabbed her lipstick and
> applied a small amount on her lips pouting sticking out her lower lip.
Derek
> could be a royal pain and Ria wanted to forget Hilario and the emotions
> surrounding him except Derek did not think she should forget.
>
> She tucked in her shirt, trotted down the hall trying to muster a pleasant
> smile. While it was true Derek and her needed to talk, she still did not
want
> to deal with the precept. Derek was turning more and more into a lesser
> version of Sloan and Ria wished he would just stop babying her. It was
> annoying.
>
> She took the steps slowly holding onto the bannister and smiled at the
dark
> haired stranger standing at the foot of the stairs with Derek. This might
be
> fun after all, Ria thought ignoring Derek. She held out her hand, "Ria
> Marshall, and you are sir?" she said with a cultured charm staring icily
at
> Derek when he caught her eye.
>
Derek couldn't help but wonder what he had done now to set her off. "Edwin
Lyons, this is Ria Marshall, I was hoping the you might show Mr. Lyons the
rest of our art collection. I thought I was going to be leaving," he
glanced at Miranda and Lani, "though that seems to be in question now."
Derek
