In seven days, she’d completed seventy pieces, and slowly the stack of work was going down. She had at least another weeks worth of work before she’d be caught up and could handle the pieces as they came in. Before she went home, she had an important question for her boss. “Cho Linn, when are you going to pay me?” The man’s face grew serious, his dark eyes cold. He waved his hand away. “Not today. Not this week.” “So when?” she asked. “When you finish.” “But I need money now.” “Not now.” Meg gazed at the man, her Irish temper flaring inside like kindling on a fire. “Don’t think you can double cross me. I will get my pay.” “Next week, next week,” he said. “Now go home.” She gave him one last glare and then walked out the door. She still had to pick up Annabelle and Ruby, and then there were chores to do.
