Fifteen
Grady looked up as O'Rourke came down the stairs carrying the tray. O'Rourke hated playing butler for guests willing or otherwise, but he’d been curious to see the recently plucked thorn in their side. “So?” he asked, as O'Rourke started toward the kitchen. “What’s she like?”
O'Rourke’s opinions were always interesting, even when they were wrong.
He stopped, his face screwed into thinking position. “She’s…a damaged angel with the soul of school teacher.”
“A school teacher?”
“Second grade. Miss Hanlon. Used to look at me the same way. Almost told her the dog ate my homework.” He held up the tray. “Gonna get rid of this and she wants water.”
Grady gave a half laugh, half snort. “By all means, give her some water.”
O'Rourke started to leave but hesitated. “You going to, you kno
