“Who the hell is Birdie?” “She’s a little girl who wrote to the Holiday Wishes mailbox. I want to make some of her wishes come true.” “And she wished for men’s black socks and olives?” “Yep. And a special friend for her dad. Her mom died of cancer a few years ago. So sweet.” Devin frowned. “That sucks. But what’s her dad look like?” “How should I know?” She shrugged. “He’s single. And is about to have clean socks. That’s better than half the men you’ve gone out with lately already.”
