She rose, and turned off the offending appliance. Six a.m. One hour to be up and ready for work. Julia groaned and wondered, how, in the course of only forty-eight hours, her life had changed from romantic picnics and medieval castles to working eight-hour shifts in a nursing home. A brusque knock on her door confirmed the reality. “Julia? You up?” “Yeah, Dad. Thanks.” “Get going, girlie! You don’t want to be late for your first day!” She threw off her sheet and swung her legs to the edge of the bed, not entirely eager to begin a new job so soon. A couple days to recover from jet lag and to reflect on her time with Sam would have been nice, but to her dismay, her father found her a summer job. “Working in a nursing home will be good training for your career,” Bert Steele said not ten minutes after she walked in from her trip. “Lucky for you, I just happen to know the director of Willowbrook.
