“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.
He didn’t live at the inn. Like Maddy O’Dee, he lived in downtown Templeton. Both rented flats from Norman Kelly, a real estate tycoon for the last sixty years
