“I know.” Ingrid sat on the edge of a chair, as if worried that she might catch a communicable disease from its surface.
“Here.” He cleaned off a section of his desk by the simple expedient of sweeping papers off the top and into a recycling bin. “You can put your things there.”
“Thank you.” She shrugged off her purse and laptop carrier, opening the slim computer and powering it on with a few taps of her fingers. “Why don’t you get yourself a secretary, Todd? Or an executive assistant? Surely we can scrape up the money in the budget so my visits don’t come as nasty surprises.”
“Never thought I needed one. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”
“I would,” she said absently, her upper teeth indenting her lower lip charmingly, “commit bloody murder for a decent c
