Chapter Seven
“Jocelyn!” Reggie’s voice rang with an annoying sharpness.
“You got a problem?” Jocelyn stood at the bathroom door, still dripping wet from her shower.
“Your ditzy maid is up to old tricks.”
“Ooo, I guess I have to offer my bottom to you.”
“Frankly, I’d rather you fixed the problem,” he replied.
“What’s it this time?” she asked.
“She must have done something in the dryer.” He held up a silk shirt which was now just an indistinguishable mangled mess.
“Oh god, this is a mess. I’ll talk to her—and buy you a new shirt, my dime.”
“Damn right, your dime. Better yet, fix the problem! Maybe use a little of your management genius on this one.”
“If she worked at the office, I’d probably fire her,” Jocelyn said.
“See, that’s my point. This obviously isn’t her calling in lif
