Being a holding place for all manner of creative outbursts from Lisa.
It all came from a fear of flying.
The prospect of a week-long transatlantic voyage on a luxury ocean liner had been so appealing (rest, relaxation, time to work without the usual distractions and interruptions, escape from the demands of the press and the public). It was a much more glamorous and civilized way to travel, and it had all been carefully arranged so that she'd arrive in plenty of time to do the rounds of appearances and promotion overseas. It would be a vacation, of sorts.
What greeted her on the other side of the door was not what she expected.
The man standing in the doorway grinned, or rather leered, in a disconcertingly familiar way. He had all the right parts to be handsome - tall, muscular build, sandy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, but somehow the sum of the parts didn't add up to anything resembling attractive, at least to her. There was something in his expression, his eyes, his body language that made her "spidey senses" tingle and put her on edge. She had the distinct feeling that she should know him, but she couldn't place him. "Oh, um, I was expecting someone else. Can I help you?" she stammered.