“That’s what the IRS said! But Gibbons proved them wrong. He’s a visionary.”

“Good,” Hope said, pulling out a chair. “Because I have some ideas. And they involve less feces-throwing and more actual planning.”

Hope forced a smile. “That’s me.”

Hope’s blood went cold.

“When do you start?”

For the first time in her life, Hope Harper realized: maybe Daddy’s monkey business wasn’t crazy at all.

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