Arch had stood opposite the counter from Quincy, covering the report she was reading with his box of sweet smelling temptations. They had only just come from a baker’s oven. “Where did you get this?” she asked. With a smile and a nod towards the extra stool behind the counter—which Quincy lifted over the counter to his waiting hand—Arch answered only as he opened the parcel. “Pandora,” he said. “What?” “I got this from Pandora. I’m afraid that if I open the box, I will start something rather dangerous.”
