Irene stepped out of the cab, looking towards Jim’s residence. She could not believe she was doing this. After the last time she’d worked with him and the incident had nearly gotten her killed, she’d promised herself she’d never find herself on the man’s doorstep again. Fate had apparently decided otherwise, as she found herself exactly there. She walked up Jim’s door wearing the high-heels he’d sent her. As much as she abhorred the man, it was a lovely gift. She knocked lightly on the door, half-hoping nobody would answer so she’d be spared the personal shame this was causing her.