Wound Up by Kelli Ireland Page A

bound today and leave it in your mailbox in the receptionist’s office. No promises, though. It could be tomorrow.” She looked around and sighed. “Or Wednesday.”
    “No worries. I have no intention of doing anything to get myself fired.”
    She smiled. “Great.” Gesturing to a small table in the corner, she said, “Have a seat and fill out all the forms. I’ve highlighted the blanks you have to either fill in or sign. If you have questions, send a Sherpa to carry me away from this mountain of doom known as my desk and I’ll happily help you out.”
    He laughed and some of the tension in his shoulders bled away. Paperwork he could handle.
    It was the changes Sanders had hinted at that made Justin’s heart race. He had no doubt one of those personnel changes would be Grace Cooper.
    This program had pulled him off the streets when the choice was go straight or go home in a body bag. He couldn’t lose this job because of one dumbass move. But there’d been so much potential between him and Grace. Could he stand to lose that?
    For the first time since he’d blown up yesterday, he wasn’t sure which loss would hurt him more—the job that meant everything to him or the woman who just might mean more.
    * * *
    G RACE SAT IN the lobby of Second Chances picking at a hangnail as she waited. She’d been a few minutes early, but that was better than being late for her first day. But her boss was behaving strangely, making her wait in the lobby for the past half hour. Whatever was keeping him busy seemed to take priority over her. Leaving her out here so long struck her as a bit unprofessional, though, even if she was just an intern. The man had been much more organized when she’d interviewed for the internship a month ago. Oh, well. No crime in being harried, she supposed.
    Her gaze roamed the lobby and hallways again, dully noting nothing had changed since her last perusal.
    Where was Justin?
    A petite, dark-haired woman approached her and extended a hand. “Grace Cooper?”
    Grace stood and shook the proffered hand. “I am.”
    “I’m Sharon Johnson, human resources director. I apologize for making you wait. You’re not the only new employee we’ve got today.”
    Justin.
    “I’m just a student, Ms. Johnson. An intern.”
    “You’re being paid, right?”
    “I didn’t realize I would be, no.”
    “You will...for reasons I’ll explain in a minute.”
    “Any pay is much appreciated,” Grace said in a rush, and it was the absolute truth. She would stash every extra penny to fund the independence that hovered only twelve days away. This almost made having to live at home again, no matter how miserably short the time, worth it. Almost. She wasn’t sure anything could make it entirely worth it. But the idea of a house that smelled of lemon oil and dryer sheets versus the stale stench of her mother’s place fueled her motivation.
    “Ms. Cooper?”
    Grace jumped. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
    The other woman smiled gently. “If you’ll come with me, we can get the majority of your paperwork done. As I mentioned, circumstances have changed, so the board felt it would be appropriate to pay you since you’ll actually be sitting in on counseling sessions and writing up parallel case notes to the managing psychologist.”
    “I’ll be seeing patients?” she squeaked.
    “In tandem with our licensed psychologist, yes. It’s my understanding you’ll write up case notes for every session you participate in. At the end of your eighty hours, the managing counselor will write a letter recommending whether you pass or fail the practicum. The university determines the final passing or failing grade based on a sample of the case notes.”
    Grace’s hand automatically pressed against her stomach. “Don’t say fail. I can’t afford to fail.”
    “I imagine you’ll do just fine. Let’s get that paperwork done so we can get you started, okay? You’ll be paid at the end of your last day, so I have to get