"Oh..." Margaret murmured. "Surely you can't do that."
"Have you done farm work before, King?" Walter asked.
I wiped my mouth with the napkin and pushed to my feet. "No, but I'm a fast learner."
There was a moment of silence before Catherine broke it, smirking more than usual.
"Yes, he is, and he's offering to help so... let him."
"Catherine, you can't have your boss working at the farm; that doesn't seem right," Margaret said.
"He offered."
~☆~
The weather was hot.
I had taken off my coat and suit, in the middle of rolling my sleeves, when I saw Catherine coming, wearing denim shorts and a shirt, her hair in a high ponytail.
"What?" She asked when I couldn't stop staring.
I tilted my head as I eyed her milky thighs. I could already picture them wrapped around my waist.
Catherine pushed the clothes she held to me. "I don't think it's wise to wear a million-dollar shirt, pants, Rolex, and shoes worth a fortune carrying hay and scooping cow poop."
