Page 113 of Are You There, Moriarty?

“Oh damn, I’m sorry,” Esther said, getting up and dusting the dirt off her knees.

“You’re late,” I said, sounding more pissed off than I’d meant to.

Esther’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I’m always late,” she stated, because it was true.

I sighed and checked my phone for crumbs and dirt, wiping the screen with my thumb. “I know. I’m trying to decide if I love that or hate it about you.”

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, regarding me with blatant curiosity. “You seem a little jumpy. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Everything okay with Mr. Alastair Kenney?”

Hearing his name made me feel better in a weird way.

I nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Great, in fact.”

“Man, I’m so jealous. When am I gonna find my kinky millionaire?”

“He’s not a millionaire.”

“You said he owns a house in Old Ottawa South. That’s pretty close.”

I shrugged. “Well, he’s got money, enough that he doesn’t worry about spending it.”

Esther grinned and pointed at me. “On you.”

I laughed.

“Seriously, Toby, are you okay? You looked like a startled goat there for a second.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean that in the best of ways. Goats are adorable.”

“Probably not when they’re scared.”

“Evenwhen they’re scared. Just don’t go fainting on me.”

“What?”

“Never mind. What’s up?”

I blinked. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Probably?”

“Can we get some food?” I asked.

“Yes. Absolutely, my lovely baby goat.”

I narrowed my eyes but didn’t say anything.

“What do you want?”

“A medium dark roast, black, please.”

“Anything to eat?”

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