Cathal wished his apartment had a bath. God, sometimes he'd just love a bath on days like this when his shoulders were aching from stooping in one position over an engine for way too long. But he was willing to bet getting an apartment with a real bath in New York City was forever outside of his budget, so he'd settle for a scalding hot shower and a beer.
He'd been just about the turn the lights out when her heard the woman's voice. He flicked his eyes to the clock on the wall as subtly as possible and, yeah, technically they were still open.
So he swallowed up his sigh and hoped this wasn't about to be a nightmare customer.
Wiping his hands on a towel as he approached, Cathal asked, "what can I do for you?"