Robert Sheppard laughed louder than he had in a very long time. He couldn’t remember what he had for dinner the night before, but the pluckiness of his daughter was etched into his brain. Addison Kane was undoubtedly rich and apparently arrogant, but when it came to tenaciousness, Robert knew she was about to meet her match.

“What’s so funny?” Joanna asked, smiling at her father’s guffaw.

“The woman’s going to have no idea what hit her,” he said as he threw back his head and laughed again.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Joanna said, holding her head up high.

“The hell you don’t. A rabid pit bull doesn’t stand a chance against you if you’ve set your mind on something.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve mellowed over the years.”

“I’ll give you that, but underneath that calm exterior still lurks my feisty lass, of that I’m sure.”

Beaming from the exchange, Joanna checked her watch. The last thing she wanted to do was leave, but time was not yet on her side. “I’ve got some errands to run, and Pearl will be here any minute. Is there anything you need while I’m out?”

“You wouldn’t consider getting your dear old dad some ice cream, would you?”

Joanna got up and leaning over, gave her father a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, giving him a wink as she picked up the breakfast tray. Noticing all the food that remained, she said, “You know, you didn’t eat much of this, and now it’s cold. Would you like me to fix you something else?”

“No, I’m not that hungry, and Pearl will make me some tea when she gets here. You run along. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, Dad,” Joanna said, heading out the door. “See you later.”

Robert watched as his daughter exited the room, and looking at the bills still on his bed, he picked up an envelope and peeked inside. Blanching at the balance, he set aside the statement, and opening the drawer on his nightstand, he pulled out a pen.

***

With purpose in her step, Fran Neary entered the outer office of Addison Kane. Acknowledging the junior secretaries with her usual quick smile, she walked over to Millie’s desk.

“How’s her schedule today?” Fran asked.

“Well, good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, lots of things on my mind. Good morning, Millie.”

“Hello, Fran,” Millie said as she tapped away at her keyboard. Pulling up Addison’s calendar, she scanned the entries. “She’s got from eleven to one free, and then busy the rest of the day. Why?”

“Hold on,” Fran said, pulling her mobile from her pocket. Walking away from the desk, she made a call and then returned.

“Do me a favor and pencil in Herbert Fitzsimmons, will you?”

“Who?”