The gardener

Kira lounged on the balcony, pretending to read while her eyes tracked the old gardener below. Sweat dotted his forehead as he trimmed the hedges. Each clip of his shears drove her impatience higher. When he finally looked up, her grin turned wicked. "Hey, old man," she called, voice honey-sweet. "Think you can squeeze one more client into your busy schedule? My bush could use some serious attention too—right now."