Chapter 7

“Anything we need to go over?” he asked, politely smiling.

I shook my head. “Things are quiet on the home front at the moment.”

“The way I like them to be.”

“Likewise,” I told him, gathered my coffee and list from his desk, and exited his office. So long. Farewell. I had work to do.

* * * *

Cal Pipp. He caught my eye at Northshire Inn. I would have married the thirty-six-year-old had he asked me to be his faithful and loving husband for the rest of his life. Wouldn’t have contemplated his proposal in a second. Would have wrapped him in my arms, kissed him, and simply agreed to be his partnership until the end of time, hitched.