A Dream To Share. Irene Hannon

heir might know numbers, but he didn’t have his father’s hands-on knowledge of publishing—a deficiency the older man seemed determined to remedy. Whether his son liked it or not. And given Mark’s expression right now and his general lack of enthusiasm, she figured it was the latter.

      When Mark looked back at Abby, he didn’t have a clue how to interpret her enigmatic expression. All he knew for sure was that this assignment was not starting out well. He was supposed to be the one in charge. Instead he felt like a chastised little boy who’d neglected to do his homework. Okay, so maybe he should have looked at the background file before now. And he supposed the remark about church socials might have been out of line. Well, he’d use the evening to get up to speed. Besides, what else was there to do in this tiny backwater town?

      With a sudden move, he rose and reached for the papers. “Thanks for the tour.”

      For a second Abby seemed taken aback by his abruptness. Those big green eyes widened in surprise, and a flash of uncertainty flickered across her face. It was apparent that she didn’t like being thrown off balance any more than he did. Good, Mark decided. She needed to understand that two could play this game.

      “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. What time should I expect you?”

      There was a challenge in her question. And in her eyes. It was obvious she’d already pegged him as a slacker, Mark deduced. He wasn’t about to reinforce that opinion.

      “About seven o’clock. You did say you get here early, didn’t you?” he countered.

      “Yes. Seven will be fine. Here’s a key to the office, in case you want to put in any extra hours.”

      Her slight smirk as she handed it over told him he’d walked right into her trap. And as he exited her office, he had the distinct feeling that Abby Warner had won round one.

      The thing was, he hadn’t realized until too late that he’d even stepped into the ring.