The door opened and Penny Turner stepped to the street as soon as I turned off my engine. She smiled through maroon lipstick and waved at me, enthusiasm personified. I got out of the Land Rover. “Sorry I’m late.” “No problem. I was here on time, though. Just so you know.” In her mid-fifties, Penny had been looking for something to do after her two sons had graduated college and finally moved out of the house. I’d met her through a mutual friend, and when I mentioned that I was looking for a part-time helper, she jumped at the opportunity. I’d always had teenaged employees before, and while they’d worked out very well, I was looking forward to having someone a little older and wiser working for Winding Road. No doubt I’d be able to give her more responsibility, and her life experience would dictate a certain amount of common sense. “Come on inside, and I’ll show you where everything is and what we’ll be doing.”
