Chapter 3
Muriel, Jo’s legal assistant for over five years, carried the towering woven-wicker basket into Jo’s office and set it on the corner of her broad oak-wood desk with a thud.
“s**t!”
Muriel stopped and stared at her, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse.”
“Sorry. You can just take that right back out.” The thing was huge, brimming with flowers and sausages, bags of coffee and wedges of cheese. It was monstrous enough that there could be an entire ham hiding beneath the cheery multicolored cloth. It was late morning, only a little before lunch, and the waft of fresh-baked bread made her stomach growl. That woke up her whole system which then insisted on its desire for a deeply fatty and high-caloric lunch that it certainly was not going to receive, even if it filed a motion
