“Tomorrow, be here at eight thirty.” I look her up and down. “Dressed prepared to work.” Winnie’s hands go to her hips, and when her glasses slide down her nose, I barely resist the urge to reach over and push them back up. “I’m prepared to work now.” “Not to do hard labor or heavy lifting, you’re not. Wouldn’t want you to break a heel or a fingernail cleaning out the building.” Winnie laughs, a sound that clutches my heart like a fist. “Oh, James. This is going to be so much fun.”
