Page 13 of Ask for Moore

Pressing my free hand against my chest, I murmured, “Did you miss me, Waverly?”

“W-What?” she sputtered, her pretty blue eyes widening as she shook her head and took a step back.

“What else am I supposed to think when you choose to deliver the papers yourself, and to me as Marty’s agent?”

She tapped the toe of her shoe—another pair of three-inch heels again, but blue this time to go with her navy suit—and hefted her purse onto her shoulder. “That I’m doing my job in the most efficient manner possible.”

“Hmm…I like my version better.” I winked at her. “And I happen to think it’s closer to the truth than yours.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think I understand now why your office is so big…your ego wouldn’t have fit in it otherwise.”

I was about to make a wisecrack about how my ego wasn’t the only big thing about me when Ivy swiveled her chair back and forth with a giggle. “She told you. If this little interaction is any indication of how things will go in court, I feel bad for Marty.”

“Don’t you have something productive to do, Ivy?” I groaned.

“Nope.” She shook her head and reached for her mug of coffee to take a sip. “Maybe if we had some popcorn, I would pop it into the microwave. But sadly, we do not.”

I was about to lose my patience with my assistant…until Waverly laughed so hard, she snorted. Bending at the waist, she took several deep breaths before straightening and saying, “So sorry. That was completely unprofessional.”

“No need to apologize,” I assured her.

“Yeah, it’s not your fault,” Ivy insisted with a shrug. “I’m a hoot.”

Waverly’s lips trembled before she pressed them into a flat line. I slid Ivy an appreciative glance, and she tilted her head toward Waverly and carefully wiggled her mug from side to side. Taking the hint, I asked, “Would you like to come into my office to discuss the case?”

“I don’t think there’s much for us to talk about until you discuss the complaint with your client and file your response.” She bit her bottom lip, and I barely stopped myself from tugging it free.

“When you stopped by Leaves & Pages, you were hoping to get some coffee.” I jerked my thumb toward Ivy. “She makes a great cup.”

“I do.” Ivy set her mug on her desk and jumped to her feet. “Although the machine makes it nearly impossible to mess up. I just need to keep the water tank filled and pop a pod into the slot whenever I want a cup.”

Waverly shook her head. “Give yourself more credit. I proved just this morning that you actually can mess up with one of those coffee makers. There’s one in the kitchen of my room at the bed and breakfast, and I had more grounds than coffee in my mug when I used it.”

“Well, then, I definitely need to make you some,” Ivy decreed. She hurried into the break room before Waverly could protest.

“Are you staying in the carriage house at Julie’s place?” I asked as I led her into my office.

Her hair swished as she jerked her head in my direction. “Yes, how did you know?”

I offered her a small smile. “It’s a small town. There are only so many places where you could stay, and word has already filtered back to me that you were at the bed and breakfast.”

She quirked a brow. “And the grapevine is so specific that people have mentioned the room I’m using?”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “But I did tour the place when Julie had her soft opening back when I was a teenager. I remember how much I wished my parents’ house had something like it so I could have a space to myself where my little brothers couldn’t get into my stuff.”

“Wanting privacy is normal for teenagers, especially when younger children are around.” There was an understanding gleam in her blue orbs. “Did you share a room with your brothers?”

Rounding my desk, I ducked my head with a chuckle as I sat down. “No, but there wasn’t a lock on my door, and they had no shame when it came to rifling through my stuff.”

She took the chair across from me. “Sounds fairly normal for little brothers.”

“Do you speak from experience?” I asked, curious about her personal life.

“No, no siblings for me.”

There was a weird wobble to her voice, but I wasn’t able to question it or offer comfort before Ivy strode into the office. “Ta-da! I hope you like it strong because I used one of the donut shop bold blend pods.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Waverly murmured as she accepted the mug from my assistant.

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