“Okay. I can live with that.” He leaned back against the wall, and tilted his head to one side. “You said a while back that you needed a secretary, or at least someone to help with the routine stuff. No reason why I can’t hold that particular job down for room and board. If you want.”

His reply, and the suggestion, evidently caught her flat-footed. “Do you really mean that?” she asked, after a moment. “Or are you just putting me on?”

Not for a chance to stay here, I’m not.

“Call it ‘assistant’ instead of ‘secretary’ and I’d feel better, but sure, I mean it,” he told her, surprised he hadn’t thought of this sooner. “It’s no worse than any of the other jobs I’ve had. Shoot, Jennie, I’ve worked at Mickie D’s, I’ve pumped gas in truck stops, I’ve even washed cars. This is cushy, compared to those jobs, and it’s sure as hell more of an intellectual stimulus. I know some about computers, and I’ve been a paralegal in about five states. And where else am I going to get a package that includes room, board, and Medicine training?”

She bit her lip and looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. “You know,” she replied, slowly, “if I had an assistant, I could take on a lot more cases than I do. I could train you, help you get your P.I. license. We don’t make a bad team.”

He snorted. “Hell, I think we make a great team. If you’re willing to make it a little more formal.”

She nodded, slowly. “Tell you what; let’s work out this Calligan thing and see if we can keep from killing each other, and after we get it wrapped up, whatever additional cases I can take in with you as an assistant, I’ll pay you for. Deal?”

“Deal,” he replied instantly. And with relief. This was something solid and settled. He’d needed “solid” for a while; he just hadn’t figured it out till now.

She grinned. “You know, you’re the one who’s going to have to do all the paperwork on yourself. Quarterlies, 1099s, the whole bit!”

“Not a problem. Now go bake yourself,” he told her. “We’ve both got early starts to make tomorrow.”