Her bathroom was a wreck. This tiny, ruinous space. The contractor had tiled the walls askew and had to start over. He’d set the tub askew and had to start over. Nothing was level. He drove her nuts. And now this: a love letter. A love email full of emoticons and JPEGs of roses in bloom. Lady Joanna, it said. The more I see you, the more I want to see you. He’d sent the email ten minutes before he was scheduled to show up for the day’s work. Did he expect her to open the door naked? This…