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order will be fine."
    "Does this mean you're taking the job?"
    "Yes, ma'am. Like you, I'm not in a position to be real choosy at the moment. I'm trying to get
    a business up and running here."
    She yanked open the tote and pulled out her wallet, removed a credit card, and tossed it onto
    the desk. "Here. Get busy."
    He picked up the card, got to his feet, and went to a small side table where a credit card
    machine sat.
    She watched him punch in some numbers and swipe her card. "You know, I can't help but
    notice that even though you haven't had time to set up your computer, you've managed to
    get your credit card authorization machine connected."
    "First things first."
    "I can certainly see how you rank your priorities, Mr. Truax. Always get paid in advance, is
    that it?"
    "I'm not running a charitable foundation."
    "Don't worry, I'd never in a million years make the mistake of thinking that you might be the
    benevolent type." She gave the office another critical glance while she waited for the machine
    to spit out the credit card slip. If she had any sense, she would keep her mouth shut, she
    thought. But she could not resist the urge to give him some free advice. "You know, if I were
    you, I'd get a smaller client chair. This one is too large. It's not inviting."
    "Maybe you're just too small for the chair." He sounded supremely disinterested. His attention
    was fixed on the slip of paper coming out of the machine.
    That's it, she thought. Not another word, so help me. If the man was too stubborn to take
    some good advice, that was his problem. But the desk worried her even more than the chair.
    And then there was the poorly positioned mirror.
    She cleared her throat.
    "It would also be a good idea to move that desk over there near the window, and I'd suggest
    that you take down the mirror or at least shift it to the other wall," she said in a little rush. "It
    would create a more calming energy flow."
    He gave her a sidelong look. "Energy flow?"
    She had been right. This was a complete waste of time. "Forget it. You're probably not familiar
    with design theories such as feng shui that are used to organize a harmonious environment."
    "I've heard of them." He ripped the paper out of the machine and handed it to her. "But I'm
    not into decorating trends."
    "Why am I not surprised?" She snatched the credit card slip from him, glanced at the total
    amount, and winced. Less than Radnor but certainly not exactly a bargain, she thought.
    As if he knew what was going through her mind, Ethan's mouth curved humorlessly. "I'm
    cheap, but I'm not free."
    She sighed, picked up a pen, and scrawled her name.
    He took the signed slip from her and examined it with an expression of keen satisfaction. "You
    know, this is a special moment for me."
    "In what way?"
    "This represents my first professional business transaction here in Whispering Springs. I should
    probably frame this. Just think, your name could hang on my wall for years."
    "Along with my credit card number. No thanks. If I were you, I wouldn't get too excited about
    this, Mr. Truax. I have no intention of becoming a repeat client."
    "You never know. If this Mason guy doesn't work out as a suitable candidate for, what was it
    you called it? Oh, yeah, a serious, committed relationship. If he doesn't make the grade due
    to failure to obtain a divorce, you may want me to run a background check on some other
    man for you."
    For some idiotic reason, she suddenly wondered if Ethan Truax was into serious, committed
    relationships. She glanced at his hand and noticed that he was not wearing a wedding ring.
    What would she discover if she had someone run a background check on him? A lot of
    ex-girlfriends, no doubt, maybe an ex-wife.
    Damn. Now she was speculating on his marital status. This was not good.
    She dropped the pen she had used to sign the credit card slip into her tote and gave him a
    very bright smile. "Don't hold your breath."
    She hoisted the tote over one shoulder, swung