Iris McLaughlin tapped something on the huge desk calendar in front of her. “And don’t forget to get over to Henry’s,” she said, glancing up at Amelia. “He’s twice a week in this heat.”
“Twice a week,” Amelia deadpanned, because Iris had told her all of this before. Maybe she was a little nervous about leaving the success of her business in someone else’s hands.
She’d built We’ll w**d That from the ground up, literally. The company had started with her weeding a few people’s yards in her time after school back in her teens. She’d incorporated once she’d graduated, and she moved on to complete lawn care. Mowing, weeding, fertilizing, trimming.
A few years later, she’d hired two landscape architects, and her business in Getaway Bay had taken off. She hadn’t changed the name, and now We’ll
