“I’m afraid so. I’m addicted to organization.” This was an understatement. These days, the fastest way to get me hot was to take me to The Container Store and hand me a gift card. I loved storage, organization, highlighters, and colored folders.

I. Loved. Them. I always had. Even more so now.

“That’s grand. I know a lot of the boys have been complimentary, happy to have you on board. And Coach Brian says you’re a breath of fresh air, how organized you are.”

“That’s great to hear.” A surge of happiness warmed my heart. I hadn’t realized how much the praise meant to me until she’d said it. “I’ve been researching alternative therapy approaches for several of the players, Daly in particular.” I turned and grabbed his color-coded chart. “He presents with non-specific pain in the longissimus thoracis and iliocostalis lumborum regions, and I was thinking that a focus on lumbo-pelvic core stabilization might provide help. A paper was just recently published in The Lancet on the effectiveness of alternating methodologies.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice. But there’s just one thing,” she said, holding up her index finger, her smile dropping.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I braced, staring at her, the earlier relief—which felt like wind in my sails—now dying a quick and painful death. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I can fix it.” I reached for Alice, grasping her arm, fear crawling up the back of my throat. “I’ll do better. I promise. Whatever—”

“Calm down, dear. I just need you to sign the new employee handbook. You returned all the pages except the signature page.” Alice shook her head quickly, patting my hand.

I released the tension holding me hostage and huffed a light laugh. “Oh. Okay, yes. I can do that. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m sorry if I worried you. I’ve been out of sorts today, someone stole my lunch.”

“Oh no!” I gave her a sympathetic frown. “They took it from your desk?”

“No. From the staff fridge on this level.” Alice scowled. It was an impressive scowl. She almost looked menacing. “Once I find out who did it, they’ll be sorry.”

I bit my bottom lip. I had a fairly good hunch that the culprit was Connors. I debated whether or not to tattle on my unfriendly co-worker, but before I could speak, a voice interrupted, “There you are.”

Sean stood in the doorway, dressed in one of his traveling suits; the sight made me grin.

“Here I am,” I responded simply, appreciating the cut of the suit. It was gorgeous.

Always dressed to the nines when he traveled, Sean was the king of metrosexuals and loved to shop more than most women. Plus, his taste was impeccable.

“Alice, give us a moment.” He strolled into the office, twitching his chin toward her chair. “I have business to discuss with the lady.”

“Uh, sure.” Alice appeared briefly flustered, then stood from the chair and sidestepped around my giant cousin. She gave me a kind smile as she reached the door. “Don’t forget about the signature page. And, please, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

Renewed gratitude chased away the earlier nerves. “Absolutely. And thank you so much, Alice.”

Her warm eyes held mine for a moment, then drifted to Sean. Alice’s demeanor cooled, and her lips pinched as she lifted a disapproving eyebrow. Then she turned and left.

“Hag,” Sean said, fiddling with his cufflink.

“She is not a hag, Sean. She is lovely and kind.”

He gave me a grumpy frown. “She’s a hag to me. Still hasn’t forgiven me for that nonsense with Fitzpatrick. Holds a grudge like a cat.”

“Cats hold grudges?”

“Yes. So do ravens. I can’t abide either. Dogs are far superior.”

I ignored this statement because I was busy and had less than fifteen minutes to finish up before my next appointment. “What nonsense with Fitzpatrick can’t she forgive you for?”

“When I had it off with his unsavory fiancée.”

“Brona O’Shea? That was years ago.”

“I know. Plus I did him a favor, didn’t I? Now he’s married to the delectable Annie. Ronan should be sending me flowers on their anniversary.”

I ignored this statement as well because I knew Sean would be happy to talk at length about how he’d saved Ronan Fitzpatrick from the evil Brona O’Shea by sleeping with her. Never mind the fact that Sean only did it to make Ronan lose his temper. And never mind the fact that Sean then tried something similar with Ronan’s sister, Lucy. Except it backfired, because he fell in love with Lucy, and was still smitten five years later.

“That Alice is like an elephant with her memory. A dowdy elephant in need of a makeover. Horizontal stripes should be outlawed.”

“I think she looks wonderful. Leave Alice alone,” I grunted, frowning at my cousin’s snobbery. “Now, what did you need?”

His eyes narrowed, bouncing from my face to his cufflinks, then to some imaginary piece of lint on his pants. “So . . .”

“So?”

“Here we are,” he said with a plaintive sigh.

“So, here we are.”

Sean bit the inside of his lip, his eyes probing. “And how are things?”

“Very well, thank you.” I turned my attention back to my notes because I knew where this conversation was heading.