Mark said in lieu of a greeting as Addy stepped out the door Thursday afternoon. Sitting on the low wall in front of her unit, she watched as he slid a plastic box under her car, used pliers to loosen something up and guided the center of the box to catch the flow of used and dirty oil. “I know you’re not,” she said, enjoying the break from the personnel files she’d been perusing all afternoon. Pleasingly boring files belonging to well-qualified people. “I want to warn you, she’s probably cooking up some plan to get you and me together.” “As long as we know it’s not going to happen, there’s no harm in her meddling. We both understand and accept it for what it is.” His grin warmed her more than the bright sun shining down on them. She should go in. But she didn’t feel right leaving him all alone to tend to her vehicle. “I hate to think what she says about me when I’m not around to defend myself,”
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