I stared at him.
“Harold.”
“Come on.”
Grace went back to folding shirts as if we’d interrupted her.
“Come downstairs.”
I followed Harold into the kitchen.
The moment we were out of earshot, I pulled my hand free.
“If you’re about to tell me she’s only here for five more days, I’m going to need you to reconsider your strategy.”
“I’m not,” he said.
“Good.”
“I’m going to need you to reconsider your strategy.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You handled it twice.”
He leaned against the counter.
“I know.”
“And now our bedroom doesn’t have a door.”
“I noticed.”
“You handled it twice.”
“I’m considerably past panic, Harold.”
That almost made him smile.
Then he lowered his voice.
“I’ll teach her a lesson.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing yet.”
“I’ll teach her a lesson.”
