I stared at the empty workshop for several seconds after Charlotte finished speaking, because the idea of her volunteering at Lawson Customs was not something I had expected when I walked through the doors that morning.
Part of me wanted to say no immediately, because this business was my life, and allowing Charlotte into it meant giving her access to something she had spent years trying to undermine.
Another part of me remembered what I had told her, because if I expected her to prove that she had changed, then I had to give her an opportunity to do exactly that.
“Fine.” I said and Charlotte was silent.
“You can volunteer.” I added.
“Really?” She asked.
“Yes, but there are conditions.” I said.
“I understand.” She said.
“You don’t get involved in anything involving money, customers
