Four days later
Jo sighed, rolled her shoulders back to relieve some of the crushing tension in them. She glanced at the clock in the corner of her laptop and started: how did it get to be almost eight o’clock already? Jesus, she needed to get a goddamn life. At least join a gym and leave work at five or six, spend an hour on the treadmill or something. Sitting at this desk from eight to eight was easy, God knows, because there was enough to do… but no way it was healthy.
She sighed again and slowly got to her feet. Her right foot was asleep, so she took off her high heel, pressed down on her toe like a ballerina (not that she’d ever taken ballet, gallumph that she was) and winced. Yes, her new shoes were totally hot and sexy and flattering, but wow, fashion could be a royal pain in the
