“The older woman standing on the floor next to the ladder held the tools and the hardware for the blinds. She made a noise and he thought she might have said something.“I’m sorry?” He looked down and the ladder shook a little. He held his breath and waited for it to stop weaving. Or maybe he was weaving, not the ladder. He started to close his eyes but knew from experience that would only make it worse.Worse, being on the second floor, looking out the window at the ground. It seemed to be fifty ...feet down, and he knew it wasn’t. He focused on the floor. On the woman helping him. She shrugged and her brows arched and drew in.He was sure she’d said something.“What?” She didn’t smile.He started to work again and again heard her mutter. “Did you say something?”“No, of course not.”“Am I doing something wrong?”She bit down on her lip and shook her head and that didn’t convince him. “No, you’re fine.”That tone. Of course he was doing something wrong. He wasn’t a handyman.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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