“Very conservatively,” he said. “You have one introduction. The same goes for you, Annabelle. After that, I’m calling it quits.”

Portia’s plastic smile melted at the edges. “But your contract runs into October. It’s only mid-August.”

“Save your breath,” Annabelle said. “Heath wants an excuse to fire us. He doesn’t believe in failure, and if he fires us, he can transfer the blame.”

“Fire us?” Portia looked sick.

“It’ll be a new experience for you,” Annabelle said glumly. “Fortunately for me, I’ve had practice.”

Portia pulled herself back together. “I know this has been frustrating, but it’s frustrating for everyone who goes through the process. You deserve results, and you’ll get them, but only with a little patience.”

“I’ve been patient for months,” he said. “That’s long enough.”

Annabelle looked into his proud stubborn face and couldn’t keep silent. “Are you going to take ownership for any part of the problem?”

He met her gaze dead-on. “Absolutely. That’s what I’m doing right now. I told you I was looking for someone extraordinary, and if I’d thought it would be easy to find her, I’d have done it myself.” He rose from the corner of the desk. “Take as long as you need to come up with your last introduction. And believe me, nobody hopes that one of you gets it right more than I do.”

He made his way to the door, then stood back to let them out, his head outlined against the sign for the Beau Vista Trailer Park hanging on the wall behind him.

Annabelle retrieved her purse and gave him her most dignified nod, but she was fuming as she left his office, definitely in no mood to share an elevator with Portia, so she moved quickly through the lobby to the elevator bank.

As it turned out, she had no need to rush.

Portia slowed her steps as she watched Annabelle disappear. Bodie’s office lay just ahead on her right. When she’d walked past it earlier, she’d forced herself not to look in, but she’d known he was there. She could feel him through her skin. Even during that horrible meeting with Heath when she’d most needed to keep her wits, she’d felt him.

All last night she’d lain awake reliving the horrible things he’d said to her. Maybe she could have forgiven the lies he’d told her about his upbringing, but she could never forgive the rest. Who did he think he was to psychoanalyze her? The only thing wrong with her was him. Maybe she’d been a little depressed before she met him, but it hadn’t been significant. Last night he’d made her feel like a failure, and she wouldn’t let anyone do that to her.

Her hands were trembling as she stopped inside his office door. He was on the phone, his massive frame tilted back in his chair. As he spotted her, his face broke into a smile, and he dropped his feet to the floor.

“Let me call you back, Jimmie …Yeah, sounds good. We’ll get together.” He set the phone aside and rose. “Hey, babe…Are you still talking to me?”