Chapter 9

It was a good thing he’d stopped dreaming about his boss.

His door opened, and in walked the man himself.

“Good morning, Mr. Burke,” he said, as the boss strode through his office.

“My office now, Rutledge.” Mr. Burke didn’t ask for his executive assistant because she was on vacation.

“Yes, sir.” He’d never heard the boss so irritated. He made sure he had a notepad, pencils, and a cassette recorder and hurried after him.

Mr. Burke was standing by the wall of windows, staring out into the brilliance of the Charlotte morning sun. “I apologize for my testiness.”

“Not a problem, sir.” Parrish sat down and prepared to take notes.

“Mrs. Campbell won’t be in today.”

“No, sir. She’s on vacation.”

“Precisely.” He stared at Parrish broodingly.

Parrish swallowed and began to sweat. Had he done something wrong?

Mr. Burke turned away. “Has Mrs. Campbell told you about the arrangement I have with Cupid’s Bow-quets?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How does that strike you?”