Lenorie stood, her little mouth pressed into a rigid line. “Your mother said you would turn me down at first. That you weren’t a…spontaneous person by nature.”
Grace’s eyebrow arched. “Did she?”
“She advised me to tell you to think on it. And that you’d come around.” Lenorie pulled at her dress, smoothing invisible wrinkles. “So think about it.”
“I will,” she said, and wondered why in the world she would make such a promise.
Lenorie clearly approved. “Then get in touch with me when you’re ready to begin.”
With that, the woman marched out of the room without a backward glance.
Heron was trying not to laugh again.
“From what I understand about your mother,” he began, “I can see why she’d like her.”
Grace lowered the opacity on her office wall and watched the woman leave.
Neither she
