Deck The Halls
The voice on the answering machine, while obviously feminine, sounded curt and cheeky.
"Come to your old apartment and get your mail before I trash it. Never heard of mail forwarding?"
Vince smacked the heel of one hand against his forehead. Where was his brain? He hadn't given a single thought to having his personal mail forwarded. In the past few weeks he'd been too busy settling into the new house, replacing his business accountant and hiring enough mechanics to fulfill a city maintenance contract to think about his personal mail.
Just about everything important came to the offices of Cutler Automotive, but that was no excuse. He should've realized that the new tenant of his old apartment would have to deal with his share of circulars and the other junk that routinely clogged every mailbox in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex. Besides, something important did occasionally find its way into his residential mailbox. In fact, the materials he'd been expecting about the spring singles' retreat at his church would undoubtedly be among the papers waiting for him at the old apartment.
He hit a button and listened to the message again. Her irr ... read full excerpt from: Deck the Halls ebook
