Page 22 of Ask for Moore

“Tell him I said hello?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

“Thanks.” Her gaze slid toward Waverly. “Sorry, what can I get you?”

We placed our orders, and Waverly waited until Shelly wasn’t within earshot to whisper, “I think she has a crush on this Ethan guy.”

“Yeah, she’s never done a great job of hiding her feelings for him, but he’s never looked at her that way.” I sighed as I watched Shelly give our drink order to the bartender. “He’ll always see her as the little girl next door.”

“Let me guess…Ethan is another cousin?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Nope, brother.”

Shelly quickly returned with our draft beers, so I guided the conversation away from Ethan. “I never would have taken you for a beer kind of woman.”

After taking a sip of her drink, she shrugged. “It was the cheapest option when I was young and poor, with penny pitchers at a hole-in-the-wall bar close to campus when I was doing my undergrad in Champaign.”

“Ah, so you’re a Fighting Illini.”

“I am.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess…you’re a Boilermaker?”

“Boiler Up!”

“So we’re not just rivals in the courtroom but also with our alma maters.”

I lifted my glass and tipped it toward her. “In all fairness, you became your own rival when you went to Pritzker instead of the University of Chicago. The college football rivalry between the University of Illinois and Northwestern is bigger than the one with Purdue.”

“That’s a fair point,” she conceded.

We talked about our college experiences—undergrad and law school—while we waited for the burgers to arrive. Waverly surprised me by polishing hers off and almost making it all the way through her tots. When she slumped back against the back of the booth, I pointed at her plate. “Can I have a couple?”

“Sure.” She rubbed her flat stomach. “I’m beyond full.”

I tossed a tot in my mouth. “Damn, I should’ve swapped my chips for these. I forgot how good they were.”

“I’m addicted to them,” she admitted with a rueful smile. “I keep a bag in my freezer to pop into my air fryer for a quick snack whenever I’m craving some.”

Now that my belly was full and I’d had a couple of beers, it was harder for me to ignore what I was really craving—Waverly. Balling my napkin, I dropped it on the table next to my empty plate. “Want to take a walk to burn off some of the calories we ate?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Do you think I need to take a walk because I shouldn’t have eaten that much?”

“What? No.” I shook my head. “I would never. I—”

She reached out to pat my hand, interrupting the stammered apology I was about to give. “Sorry. I was just teasing, but I don’t have a lot of practice with it.”

“Damn.” I let out a low whistle. “You really got me there. Nicely done.”

She was smiling as Shelly returned to the table and asked, “Can I get you anything else?”

I shook my head. “Just the check.”

She pulled the ticket from her pocket and set it down next to me. Waverly reached for her purse as I pulled my wallet out of my pocket. “I’ve got it.”

She waited for Shelly to walk away with my credit card before she said, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“No worries.” I beamed her a smug grin. “I’ll just tack it onto my bill for the case, and then your client will end up paying when you lose, and he’s ordered to pay Marty’s legal expenses.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, “As if you’re actually going to beat me.”

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