Page 60 of Papers Don't Lie

“Who in God's would name their dog Rick? No one besides anyone who’s aRick and Mortyfan.” She giggles, finally tying the bow under the dog’s neck. “It’s Purple,” Esmeray purrs, proud of the name she chose.

“Why am I not surprised?" I ask, taking the little girl in my arms. “Do you like your name, Purple?” She answers with a bark, moving her tail from side to side, which can only mean she does like it.

“Good boy.” Esmeray pats her—his—head.

“Good boy?” I cock a brow. “She’s a he?”

She stops to look at me. “Yes, what’s the problem?”

“Did you name a boy after the color purple?” I ask, just to make sure I got all of this right.

She nods. “Yes, you’re a boy, and you’re wearing purple because your wife told you so. And, for the record, there’s no color for girls or boys. All the colors are unisex.”

I laugh, pleasantly surprised by facing the bold Esmeray I met a few months ago when she closed the door in my face, after humiliating me with only a few words.

With my fingers, I mimic closing the zipper on my mouth. “Purple it is.”

“And he’s sleeping in our bed,” she practically demands, snatching him from my arms and kissing his nose while talking in the same tone moms talk to their babies.

It’s kind of cute.

“He is?” I ask, finally taking off my coat.

Esmeray nods, biting her lip. “Yup.”

“What if you owe me something and you have to let him sleep on the floor?” I raise a brow at her.

“What could I possibly owe you?" she questions.

I walk to her, so close that if she didn’t have the dog in her arms, our chests would be touching. Esmeray inhales sharply, the dog licking her chin, which earns him a laugh before she’s serious again, sensing the threat in my proximity. In reality, I won’t even touch her if she doesn’t ask me to. Or if she does a really good job at making it clear that she wants my touch.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know that you sprayed your perfume on my clothes?" I ask, seeing the surprise flashing in her eyes.

She pushes her bottom lip further, squinting her eyes a bit before talking in a baby voice. “I thought you said you like it.”

“I do like it. That’s the problem,” I tell her, then step away to give her room to breathe when I notice the redness lifting to her cheeks. “Where did you get him from anyway?”

Esmeray comes back to earth, changing her focus from my lips to my eyes before her gaze stumbles over the dog she named Purple. “Animal shelter where Ilory is volunteering.” She pats him on the back, nodding, and scratches him under his mouth when she speaks again. “I think he’s a Cavapoo. Or a Maltipoo. Can’t tell for sure.”

My eyes squint at her. “How do you know so much about dog breeds?”

“I don’t. Ilory does.” She offers me a smile, and while I want to ask her where she got the idea from, I’m interrupted by a buzz in my pants.

I take out my phone, the screen lighting with Kendrick’s name.

“Mr. Graves, something came in the mail for you.”

“I’m coming,” I tell him before hanging up. My eyes shift to Esmeray, who’s curiously watching. “I’m going downstairs for a minute. It’s about the new security team.”

Esmeray smiles. “I’ll be here.”

For our sake and our peace, let’s just hope it’s not something from Carter waiting for me because today has been a good one despite my conversation with Dad about my mother, and I don’t want anyone to ruin it.

When I get to my home office, Kendrick is already there with a black envelope. If there’s something new I learned about Carter, it's that he has an obsession with envelopes and my wife. There’s no doubt that’s from him.

“You know, I really had a good night," I tell Kendrick, taking the paper from him with a sigh.

He nods. “You've had plenty of good nights lately, sir.”

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