will. I’ve already looked at self-cleaning windows and antibacterial counter surfaces. But I’m sure there’s much more new technology out there that I simply haven’t learned about yet.”
Jo’s resolve began to waver. She, too, had been reading about self-cleaning glass and antibacterial counters—and she was fascinated by the latest and greatest products for more effortless home care.
“It might help if you could see my home,” he added, reaching into a pocket. He produced some snapshots and gave them to Jo. She went through them, impressed at the beauty of the place. He wasn’t just renovating a home; he was creating a showpiece.
“No disrespect,” she said, gesturing toward the photos, “but with a gorgeous home like this, it seems to me you can well afford a maid. Why would you bother with my little ideas for keeping a house clean?”
He hesitated before carefully taking the photos from her and slipping them back into his pocket.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m not as wealthy as it may appear. I’ve been saving for my dream home for years, and I’ve done a lot of the work on the house myself. It’s a labor of love. Once I heard you speaking today, I realized that the expertise you offer is exactly what I need to make my house complete. I’m prepared to pay whatever you think is fair for your time, say a hundred dollars an hour?”
Jo hesitated. She hated to turn down that kind of money for something that was right in line with what she was doing anyway.
“It does sound like an interesting project,” she said. “Maybe I could find some way to make this work.”
Lettie was impressed with the Dates&Mates facility. The place was huge, with a large reception desk that curved through an inviting lobby. The place was milling with people, and though Lettie would have expected them all to be young and beautiful, in fact they were of all sizes, shapes, colors, and ages. It seemed that loneliness knew no bounds—and that using a dating service was the new way to find a companion.
Almost on tiptoe, Lettie made her way to the counter and asked the perky lady who greeted her if they were hiring.
“We sure are,” the lady said with a smile. “Would you like to apply?”
“Yes. I do secretarial, computer—”
Before Lettie could even list her qualifications, the woman cut her off with a wave.
“Save it for the application, hon,” she said, handing over the form. “I’m just the traffic director.”
Lettie uttered a small thank-you, taking the proffered form.
Then she found a quiet corner, sat, and began filling in the blanks.
“All right, here’s my offer,” Jo said to Peter Trumble. “I’ll consider taking the consulting job, but only if I would be allowed to photograph what we do there—and use the photos on my website and in my book. I won’t have to say who the house belongs to or where it is, but I would need to utilize it on a larger scale to justify my time and effort.”
“Sounds fair,” he said. “As long as you can get started right away. I don’t want to delay.”
They made an appointment for that afternoon at 4:00 so she could look at his home and get an idea of what would be involved. She would make her final decision once she had seen the house firsthand.
“I’ll bring my photographer,” Jo said, hoping Danny was free. After last night’s danger, she wasn’t going anywhere new by herself, not even to the fancy home of an affluent consultant.
“Sounds fine,” he told her. “I’ll see if I can get my architect to drop by as well.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary at this point.”
Peter smiled. “Well, she’s also my girlfriend. She’ll want to be included.”
Jo returned his smile.
“I understand.”
As he wrote out the directions to his home and explained them, Jo found herself warming to him slightly. He seemed like an okay guy, if a little stiff.
They shook hands and parted ways, and with ten minutes to spare before she was to meet her