Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,71

Zora muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

“You bit me,” he stage-whispered, his fingers tracing the inside of his lip. “I was trying to kiss you, not get my lip chewed off.”

“It was involuntary, I didn’t expect you slam into my head,” Zora hissed, her words only just reaching me.

I watched them, fascinated. These were two people who didn’t kiss all that often, if at all. They couldn’t.

“You’re right, Zora,” I said, smiling at them both. Their heads snapped back in my direction. “It is magic when a couple’s nonverbals match, isn’t it? That right there? Pure synchrony.”

Zora narrowed her eyes at me. Jackson shot me a dark look as he straightened, then one of those sly “aw shucks” looks I’d always hated slithered across his face.

“Well. I keep telling Zora that Daddy doesn’t like it when she bites, but, what can I say? She’s passionate.”

I didn’t miss the murderous glance she sent his way at that pathetic and highly inappropriate attempt at recovery.

Yep. Still an asshole.

“Oh, I have some idea,” I said, giving him a bland smile. I inspected Zora’s set face. “Z, didn’t you do a video testimonial about that?”

Jackson’s face froze. We both knew exactly what video I was talking about.

“Guess ‘Daddy’ needs a map to find the spot sometimes, huh?”

“Listen,” he began, all traces of congeniality gone, “you don’t—”

“Ugh.” Zora’s face crumpled. “What’s that smell?”

I sat back, laughing. I knew exactly what it was.

Sir Duke, with his impeccable timing, had launched one of his world-famous stink bombs. My dog didn’t spare Jackson the slightest glance, but turned around in a wide circle and managed to back Jackson up a few feet with his perfectly aimed, smelly asshole.

I barked out another laugh.

“He stinks,” Jackson grated, hands on his hips. “I—” He tucked his nose into his uniform shirt, audibly choking. “I’ve got to go anyway.” Turning to the empty front counter, he yelled, “Isn’t this some kinda public health violation? The big ole dog in here, smelling up the place?”

Sir Duke rested his head on Zora’s knee, his eyes big and luminous.

I’d never loved my manipulative dog more.

“Why don’t you get some fresh air, Jackson?” I made sure my face was perfectly straight when I added, “We’ll be alright in here. I want to hear more about the inspiration for Zora’s research.”

Chapter Sixteen

Nick

Retracing my steps to Zora’s office a few days later, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She was missing right before an important off-campus meeting.

Which wasn’t like her.

Nellie had initiated an email sharing details about focus groups for beta users of our app. Zora responded to the first few exchanges where Nellie provided the initial details. Subsequent emails where Nellie asked Zora to take me along with her? Unanswered.

I tried to push aside my growing concern. Zora was an adult, a superhuman at that. She was fine. We no longer had a relationship in which it was appropriate for me to worry about her.

But some habits died hard. Even twelve years later.

By the time I reached her office door, I was kicking myself for going along with Nellie’s plan. I didn’t need to be ferried around like a guest. I had a rental car in perfect working order. I knew the way to Green Valley.

Not that I’d turn down an opportunity to spend time with her, even if it was just the drive from Knoxville to Green Valley.

Her office door was very slightly ajar. My knock nudged it open in slow degrees.

“Knock, knock.”

At first glance, I thought her office was empty.

It was still enough of a disaster area that my gaze caught on several different areas before I could methodically search the room’s contents.

A paper bomb had detonated. Sliding mounds of paper covered every possible surface of the desk. Tucked away in a corner, the meeting table and chairs were burdened with towering stacks of stuffed folders. More stacks of paper straddled the entire length of the floor-to-ceiling window. Individual sheets were tacked to a cork board, while others fanned out only inches away from the door’s threshold. The printer in the corner had apparently regurgitated more pages than the holding tray could handle.

I shook my head, hand on the knob. Zora had kept her room in perfect order growing up. All of her assignments and syllabi were always organized with color coded folders and binders. She’d created an innovative filing system for all of her college applications.

Sure, time had passed. She might have changed. But this much? I doubted it.