EXTRACT FOR
A Hundred Paintings Of Her
(Daisy Rose)

There's nothing here incriminating in the room for her to find, no sexy lingerie that he puts on when nobody's looking, no camera equipment, no numbers for hookers, not even an extra shirt for him to change into. There's just a singular laptop on the desk with the power plugged in. He doesn't have a laptop and she did not see him bring it in, which means someone has left this laptop in the room for him.



Curiosity piqued, she settles into the seat in front of the desk.



It's locked from idling too long, but his wife had given her a list of all the passwords that he uses. He is one of those old school sort who writes down all of his passwords in a little booklet that he keeps in the drawer of his desk.



It takes a few wrong attempts, but she's lucky the computer does not try to lock her out for too many wrong guesses.



"Oh," she gasps when she sees what the man is working on.



The document is open, like it's waiting for her, though the image is zoomed in so close that she doesn't understand what she's looking at, at first.



When she figures out what she's seeing, her jaw drops open and the chair makes a screeching noise as she backs away from the screen, like the distance would make the image any less perverse.



Lyla has seen a lot of things in her line of profession, but she's never seen this before.