Katie had just been on her way to the bedroom, ready and willing to say die and pop a Xanax, when there was a knock on the door. She sighed and grabbed her bottle of water, wiping it across her forehead as she headed to answer it. What kind of accent was that? Southern, obviously. What she knew of Southern Americans was limited to movies and New York tourists.
Therefor, not so good.
She headed over to get the door, managing not to blurt out a 'finally'. She was really trying not to be any crueler than she had to the girl on the phone. Besides, this was the guy that was going to end her suffering. Or at least, he better pray to whatever God he worshiped that he would. If not... that, too, would not be good.
Even if he was rather easy on the eyes. Yeah, it's definitely time for that xanax. "They sent you up fast," she said by way of greeting, standing back and holding the door open for him. Good. "I do hope this is a quick fix."