“When do you want me to start?” “Is tomorrow too soon?” “No.” “All right.” His jaw flexes. “And Isabel, I know you’re Connie’s friend…” The sound of my name in his deep voice shouldn’t be that pleasant. It really, really shouldn’t. “I know, but I promise that won’t affect this. I can be professional.” “Good,” he says. And then, like it’s an afterthought: “So can I.”
