Her Man in Manhattan. Trish Wylie

of his mouth lift.

      ‘Bye, Grace,’ his voice rumbled.

      ‘Bye, Tyler.’

      Her gaze shifted in time to catch a glimpse of what looked like a hint of warmth on the older woman’s cheeks. In all the years she’d known her, she’d never seen Grace blush. Or be flustered enough to feel the need to shuffle the papers on her desk. Had he just winked at her?

      The thought was surreal.

      When she stole another glance as they approached the top of the stairs he caught her doing it. Adopting the same impassive expression he was wearing, she simply blinked and looked away. If there was one thing she’d learnt about him it was when he had something to say he didn’t have any difficulty opening his mouth. Keeping it shut on the subject of anything he might have heard through the door would be her advice.

      When he remained silent she lifted the sheet of paper and glanced over her day.

      ‘You need any help with the big words, let me know.’

      The comment made her glare at him in warning before they parted ways but as she continued down the hall to her bedroom something unexpected happened: she smiled.

      Unwittingly he’d given her exactly what she needed to face the day. Combined with the knowledge that her release date was closer, it placed a spring in her step that hadn’t been there before.