At Your Service, Jack. Brenda Hammond

sign up for the Latin instruction, although she had given passing consideration to belly dancing. But she thought better to go with her original plan and learn to salsa.

      Only, once there, she found it wasn’t so easy. The Latin beat pulsed through her, her blood began to pump, but she couldn’t get the hang of the dance. Even though she had studied ballet for a couple of years, her hips and knees wouldn’t cooperate. How frustrating. Maybe practice would do the trick. At least she felt alive again.

      WEARY FROM his long day away at the office, Jack climbed the steps. His eyes felt blurry from staring at spreadsheets on the computer, his brain was ready to shut down after straining through problem after problem. Plus, he’d endured a long and difficult evening meeting with a potential customer. He pushed his key into the lock, turned it, then paused. Inside, the lights were shining and he had the fanciful thought that they glimmered with welcome. The smell of wood smoke from a fire had him breathing in an appreciative breath.

      He stepped inside, set down his briefcase and shucked off his shoes. Home sweet home. Thank goodness he’d taken the advice of his financial adviser and invested in his own house. After years of renting part of a duplex, it was great to come into peace and quiet, to know that he had the place to himself. But this was no longer true. He was about to shrug out of his leather jacket, when Freddi appeared.