"Of course, Senator Harris. I'm ready for anything you put on me." Kamala's eyebrow arches, and I realize too late how that might sound. My cheeks burn, and I fight the urge to fan myself. "Good," she says, her tone rich with amusement and something darker. "Because I plan on working you very hard when we get back to the office." The car slows to a stop, and I realize we've arrived at my apartment building. As I gather my things, my hands trembling slightly, Kamala's final words follow me out of the car: "Rest up this weekend. You're going to need it."