Page 36 of A Little Moore Action
“Oh my God, your boots! Amaze-balls,” she says, looking down.
Thinking I’d be on my own tonight, I’d simply worn jeans, a tank, and my boots. They were a thank-you present from Cavendish’s when I got their profits up and store expansion going. Cognac-colored leather, inlays of red and black birds along with white flowers and green leaves. The vintage boots were hand-tooled with a snipped toe and cost more than my new Jimmy Choos.
Though I love the city, I adore my cowboy boots. Some things you just can’t change about a Southern girl.
I stick out my heel to give her a better look at the intricate stitching. “Thank you. They were a gift from a client after a job well done.”
“I’ll have to think of something equally as cool then, for what you’re doing for Moore’s,” Chase says, guiding us toward the table.
“Slow your roll, cowboy,” I tease, sliding into my seat, cocktail in hand. “You already had yourteamput together a welcome package.” I squint in an overexaggerated glare in his direction before shrugging. “And, besides, I haven’t done much yet.”
“But you will,” Liz pipes up. “Chase told me all your plans. I think it’s just what the family store needs.”
Calling the extravagance of Moore’s a family store has me smiling. As does Liz. She’s bouncy. There’s no other word for it as she literally bounces on the seat of her chair. Her long blond hair is up in a messy bun, the escaped strands swaying with each bounce. She has on a cute cotton sundress with sandals and no makeup. All of it seems very casual, but I can see the quality of the clothes. And I may have seen those sandals inInStylemagazine captioned with a price tag of eight hundred and fifty bucks.
“I’m at a distinct disadvantage then,” I tell her. “You know everything about me, and all I know is that your name is Liz and you have the unfortunate reality of being Chase Moore’s sister.” I throw my own wink at Chase, who blinks in surprise.Take that, pretty boy.“Tell me all about yourself, Liz.”
I let the young woman’s words wash over me as she explains about her graduate degree in art history and her interest in abstract painting, at the same time sneaking looks at Chase out of my peripheral vision while pretending to studiously ignore him.
What can I say? I’m good at multitasking.
“You’ll have to come by Moore’s and tell me if you have any ideas for the displays. You’re a shareholder, and with your background in art, I’m sure you’d have great insight. I recently acquired a display dresser, but she’s new at it. She has a great eye, though.”
Chase laughs. “Yes, my former shoe salesman, Alice.”
“Saleswoman, brother. Let’s not be sexist, now.”
“Heaven forbid.” Chase holds up his hands in surrender.
I envy their easy camaraderie.
The next hour sails by smoothly, with Liz getting a kick out of my Porn ’stache lawyer story, though Chase stays conspicuously quiet. Liz promises to come by the store next week, and Chase pays the bill. I try to fight him on it, for like a second before giving up with an eye roll in his direction.
Liz touches my arm, directing my attention away from her smooth-talking brother. “What is it that you’re humming?”
“I’m humming?”
Chase snorts. “Yes. You do it all the time.”
“I do?” Shoot. I know I do. I just hadn’t realized how noticeable it was.
“Was that an Elvis song too?” His simple question tells me he’s been paying attention to my ridiculous quirk, and I can’t help but feel happy about that.
“Um, yes. It’s ‘Little Sister.’”
Chase and Liz laugh while my face heats.
“I don’t know that one,” Chase says.
“You know a lot of Elvis?” Liz nudges her brother. “I mean, I knew you were old, but not that old.”
“Hey, now,” I interrupt, unable to let any slight to the King go. “Elvis is a classic. A legend. Anyone who has any taste in music knows Elvis.”
Liz looks back and forth between Chase and me, an amused look on her face. “I like her,” she directs toward her brother, ignoring my previous indignation at her lack of respect toward the King.
Even so, my heart warms at her words, because I find myself liking her too. But then the treacherous muscle skips a beat when Chase nods in agreement, murmuring, “Me too.”
Quiet descends for a moment until Liz saves us from awkwardness, getting us back on track. “I haven’t been to the store in ages. I used to go with my mom, but…” She shrugs. “It’s been a while, what with me at school and her with her charities. Now I just have Susan pull clothes for me.” She motions me forward and leans in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I really hate shopping.”
