Spring sunlight poured into the big windows in the penthouse. She lolled in a chair positioned precisely in the longest splash of light, damp hair draped over the back of the canvas to catch the warmth. She’d been reading, but the hand holding the ereader drooped, and she gazed dozily at the ceiling, smiling faintly.
Idly she asked, “Tony, do I bring light into your life?”
“Nope, not at all,” Tony answered easily, tone light enough to make it obvious that he was just poking fun. He peered over the edge of his tablet at her, one eyebrow arched. “Of course you do.” He slid down further into a more comfortable slump on the couch. “What’s up?”
“Oh, I was just letting my mind wander. Trying to figure out if there’s some kind of meaning behind Sunshine, why you call me that.” She giggled. “‘Of course,’ he says, like it’s obvious.”