"What exactly do you mean?" She shifted, crossing her legs opposite how they were previously, unintentionally swishing her wine around in the glass she held. The party outside the room continued on, and the faintest whimper of the fancy and overly expensive string quartet mixed with pompous sounding speech of the guests penetrated the door.
"I haven't been entirely truthful, miss. I didn't just collapse in front of your house. I kind of found my way here on purpose..." He lifted his head one more time, to see her still smiling, which he thought was a little strange.
"I think I figured that out when you started spouting philosophy to me. So, why did you come here?" She took a sip of the wine, dark red and very sweet.
"When I woke up today, I knew that my body wasn't mine. Though, I suppose that's not a good way to put it. I don't know who I am. I know whoever's body this is resides at 95 Singer Street, and that he has two gallons of milk and six eggs without a carton in the refrigerator. I know he uses a generic shampoo, but likes the brand name toothpaste. I know that Jeremy Terris is the name printed on the driver's license found on the nightstand. What I don't know is what I'm doing in his body. I have no memories at all before this morning. No past whatsoever, not just how I got into this body. I came here to find out what I should do." He spoke with a certain rush in his voice, obviously still distraught from the ordeal that happened this morning. Though, waking up with no idea who you are would make anyone uneasy.
"You came here? Why not go to a police station, or try others who know yo-" she shook her head as she spoke. "Er, Jeremy. What drove you here? I'm the owner of one of the top pharmaceutical companies. You're not here to blackmail me because you think one of our drugs did this to you, are you?"
"No, no. At least, I didn't know you were CEO of something like that. I don't think Jeremy was on any drugs, or at least I didn't find any at his place. There was a white business card with your name on it on his nightstand. Remedy Shollate. For some reason it stuck out to me, as if I knew that it was important." He couldn't help but scratch his scalp as he put down the cup of coffee on the glass table.
"I thought you had no memories?"
"It wasn't really a memory, more of a feeling."
"A feeling?"
"My gut told me that I should seek you out."
She stood from the chair, walking over to a desk on the end of the room, and meanwhile, not-Jeremy's eyes circled the room. The study where they were currently was a rather small and cosy room, albeit dim. The west wall was one large bookshelf, which was filled with actual books, as well as one very nice looking cigar box. The book were all hardback - expensive looking medical reference books, an encyclopedia set, and many classic novels. They were meticulously ordered by genre and then alphabetically by author. The dark wood bookshelf continued onto the south wall which housed a custom built liquor cabinet, which had a few unlabeled bottles of spirits out at the moment, no doubt expensive in their own right. On the east wall was the door to the rest of the house, which was currently having a grand time with it's own party. A strip of molding carried the dark wood around to the north wall, which had a desk facing the south wall of the same wood there. There was a large screen on top of it, with a wireless mouse and keyboard there as well. He was rather impressed, but already knew she was rich. She sat at the chair the screen turning on to illuminate her face.
"Well, I think your gut may have known something you didn't, now that I think about it." He heard the click of her mouse.
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