"It is," Sterrin drawled as she took a cookie from the jar and looked Del over. "My mom grew up in Wisconsin, but she moved to L.A. and developed a thing for Irish guys. Both of her husbands were Irish."
She pinched off a bit of cookie and Isabella chuckled. "Well, I guess everybody has a type."
"They do," Sterrin agreed. "Like today I'm thinking my type might run towards gorgeous men named Del," she said as she wagged her brows.
Isabella chuckled again and sighed. "Anyone who sleeps with a fellow employee gets voted off the island."