of respect. “And forgive me, please, but . . . would you mind if I asked how tall you are?”
The woman’s full scarlet lips widened into a charming smile, despite the meticulous application of lipstick in the narrow Cupid’s-bow style. There was no mistaking the twinkle in the hazel eyes now. “Only five foot ten,” she said with a bold grin. “But the heels are two and a half inches.” She cocked one perfectly shaped leg back, revealing a buttercream pump with a high heel and a curved pointed toe, a near-perfect match for her pretty cream shift. She leaned close to Katie with a conspiratorial smile, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Call me crazy, but I think the height helps when Luke – ” a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her full mouth – “I mean Mr. McGee . . . gets a mind to bully us around.”
Katie awarded Betty with a genuine flash of teeth, almost giddy at the thought of moral support in her war against Luke McGee. “Trust me, if he’s as cocky as he was at the age of fourteen when he barely came to my knees, I can’t imagine what he must be like now. But so help me, I think I’m about to find out.”
“No question about that,” Betty said with a throaty laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re going to sit.”
She led Katie to the third desk at the back of the room, right in front of a second-story window where she could see and feel the frenetic pace of the city below – clanging trolleys, darting autos, and an endless scurry of people and things. The energy of Boston, which, like the heat of the summer, seemed to ripple skyward in waves of exhilaration that triggered Katie’s pulse. She closed her eyes and breathed in the promise of adventure and independence that came with a career in the city. She felt the coziness she’d sensed earlier slowly seep into her bones. Mmm . . . maybe this will be fun after all , she thought with relief.
“Good, you’re finally here.”
Katie’s eyes opened a fraction, causing the contentment to sour on her lips. Then again, maybe not.
Luke glanced at his watch and forced a polite smile. “Good morning, Miss O’Connor, welcome to the Boston Children’s Aid Society – we’re glad you’re here.” He nodded toward a wooden time clock on the wall where the timepiece registered 9:10. His tone, as crisp and professional as the charcoal double-breasted suit he wore, matched the superior lift of his thick blond brows. A faint smile hovered on his lips. “But just for future reference, you may want to note we start work at eight sharp. Miss Galetti here will be happy to show you how to clock in.”
His blue eyes lighted on Betty with hypnotic quality. “Betty, once you get her settled in, please bring her into Parker’s office – we’ll be going over agent applications.” He turned to go.
“Uh, excuse me . . . Luke.” Katie’s tone attempted a show of humility.
The broad back froze before slowly wheeling halfway. The tight line of his chiseled jaw defied the faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Miss O’Connor? Oh, and just for propriety’s sake, perhaps you better call me Mr. McGee.”
The steel in her chin lifted to meet his. “I was just wondering . . . Mr. McGee . . . why do I need to clock in?”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
Katie placed her purse on the desk and casually clasped her hands to her back, brows arched in innocence. “I mean, if this is volunteer work and I don’t get paid, sir , why do I need to punch a payroll time card?”
The professional smile eased wide into battle as he turned to face her dead-on, arms casually crossed like an ad from Vanity Fair . As usual, those annoying blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her despite a glimmer of a twinkle. “Why, to keep track of your hours, of course, and to maintain both our professionalism and your commendable commitment to volunteer. After all, Miss O’Connor, this is a workplace.”
She ground her jaw, incensed at the heat swarming her
The woman’s full scarlet lips widened into a charming smile, despite the meticulous application of lipstick in the narrow Cupid’s-bow style. There was no mistaking the twinkle in the hazel eyes now. “Only five foot ten,” she said with a bold grin. “But the heels are two and a half inches.” She cocked one perfectly shaped leg back, revealing a buttercream pump with a high heel and a curved pointed toe, a near-perfect match for her pretty cream shift. She leaned close to Katie with a conspiratorial smile, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Call me crazy, but I think the height helps when Luke – ” a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her full mouth – “I mean Mr. McGee . . . gets a mind to bully us around.”
Katie awarded Betty with a genuine flash of teeth, almost giddy at the thought of moral support in her war against Luke McGee. “Trust me, if he’s as cocky as he was at the age of fourteen when he barely came to my knees, I can’t imagine what he must be like now. But so help me, I think I’m about to find out.”
“No question about that,” Betty said with a throaty laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re going to sit.”
She led Katie to the third desk at the back of the room, right in front of a second-story window where she could see and feel the frenetic pace of the city below – clanging trolleys, darting autos, and an endless scurry of people and things. The energy of Boston, which, like the heat of the summer, seemed to ripple skyward in waves of exhilaration that triggered Katie’s pulse. She closed her eyes and breathed in the promise of adventure and independence that came with a career in the city. She felt the coziness she’d sensed earlier slowly seep into her bones. Mmm . . . maybe this will be fun after all , she thought with relief.
“Good, you’re finally here.”
Katie’s eyes opened a fraction, causing the contentment to sour on her lips. Then again, maybe not.
Luke glanced at his watch and forced a polite smile. “Good morning, Miss O’Connor, welcome to the Boston Children’s Aid Society – we’re glad you’re here.” He nodded toward a wooden time clock on the wall where the timepiece registered 9:10. His tone, as crisp and professional as the charcoal double-breasted suit he wore, matched the superior lift of his thick blond brows. A faint smile hovered on his lips. “But just for future reference, you may want to note we start work at eight sharp. Miss Galetti here will be happy to show you how to clock in.”
His blue eyes lighted on Betty with hypnotic quality. “Betty, once you get her settled in, please bring her into Parker’s office – we’ll be going over agent applications.” He turned to go.
“Uh, excuse me . . . Luke.” Katie’s tone attempted a show of humility.
The broad back froze before slowly wheeling halfway. The tight line of his chiseled jaw defied the faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Miss O’Connor? Oh, and just for propriety’s sake, perhaps you better call me Mr. McGee.”
The steel in her chin lifted to meet his. “I was just wondering . . . Mr. McGee . . . why do I need to clock in?”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
Katie placed her purse on the desk and casually clasped her hands to her back, brows arched in innocence. “I mean, if this is volunteer work and I don’t get paid, sir , why do I need to punch a payroll time card?”
The professional smile eased wide into battle as he turned to face her dead-on, arms casually crossed like an ad from Vanity Fair . As usual, those annoying blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her despite a glimmer of a twinkle. “Why, to keep track of your hours, of course, and to maintain both our professionalism and your commendable commitment to volunteer. After all, Miss O’Connor, this is a workplace.”
She ground her jaw, incensed at the heat swarming her
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