“Do you always mix business and pleasure?” She flashed her most alluring smile. "Miss Stockton, when you own an inn, your business is pleasure.”

“Then, you must fall each into your proper place. You'll do your business, and she, if she's worthy of you, will do hers; but it's your business to please yourself, and hers to please you.”

“Sweet mother of God. I was kidding about you crushing on her, but I’m right. Oh my God, you are totally jealous of her bodyguard! Oh this is priceless!” Gwen starts laughing.“This is a job, nothing else. Just like Mrs. Henderson last week was a job. I don’t mix business with pleasure. Ever,” I tell her firmly. “Mrs. Henderson is ninety-two years old and thought her dog was stealing food out of her fridge. I would hope to God you would never mix that kind of business with pleasure. That’s just gross,” Gwen says with a grimace.”

“Never mix business with religion, or you might end up losing your testimony when the business agreement is no longer something you or Christ would put up with.”

“I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things.”

“But when friends would ask Kathy whether they, too, should start their own business, she talked them out of it. You don’t run the business, she would say. The business runs you.”