Page 41 of Worth the Want
“Hey, Knox,” she greets me softly, that sweet-as-honey smile on her face.
“Indie.” Her name is all I manage as a greeting.
“Look here,” Hazel tells her, and Indie crouches beside her to examine the little moss houses and acorn people we’ve made.
“Oh my gosh, did you do all of this yourself?”
“No. Daddy helped.”
“Not much,” I add.
“Well, it’s lovely. So magical,” Indie says, standing and shifting her weight from leg to leg. “Thank you for showing me. I should probably get home and let you guys get back to your evening.”
“Do you want to stay?” My invitation takes me by just as much surprise as it does her.
Eyebrows raised, she cocks her head at me, fighting a smile. “Are you asking me to dinner?”
“I’ve already made chili, so it’s not that big of a deal.” I shrug.
“Right, well, I’m sure it’s better than whatever boxed dinner awaits me. I’d love to eat with you guys.”
“Yay, come see my new books!” Hazel cheers, already running to the house.
“Right behind you!” Indie calls after her. “Is that okay?” she asks me.
“Yeah, it’s okay.”Having her here is more than okay.
After putting away all the garden tools we used to make the fairy garden in the shed, I make my way into the kitchen to get everyone some dinner. Taking out bowls from the cabinet and I ladle some chili into them, and set them at the table.
“Dinner’s ready,” I call to the girls.
“Coming!” I hear Indie’s yell, followed by Hazel's little feet hitting the floor as she runs.
“It smells good in here,” Indie praises.
“I hope it tastes that way.”
I’m surprised at how easy it is for us all to fall into sync together. Without being asked, Indie helps Hazel into her chair, making sure she can reach her drink and spoon. I pour Indie a glass of tea while she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling at me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So, what have you been up to with work recently?” she asks. I’m not used to anyone asking about my day besides my mom.
“Well, I was able to close a case for one of my clients before it went to a trial. The other party wasn’t happy with that, but there was no evidence to support his claim. Now I’m working with a new client. A horse he was caring for passed while at his stable, and he swears it had nothing to do with him, but the owner is spewing some vicious rumors now about how animals may get treated there.”
“That sounds awful. Do you have any reports from a vet ora police report to go on?” Her questions surprise me—like she knows exactly what I would need to make a case.
“I have the police report, I’m still waiting on the official cause of death.”
Indie hums. “Yeah, that will help the case move along,” she says casually, taking another bite of chili. She looks like she has more to add, so I probe.
“It could, is there something else?” She turns to face me then, setting her spoon down and folding her hands on the table.
“Well, I’m definitely not an expert, but if I were you, I would make sure I was documenting all his online comments. A few bad reviews, and some accusations could ruin a business, and if what he’s sayingisn’ttrue, then maybe you’ll have a case for defamation.” I’m stunned. Not that she’s smart. Her wit alone tells me that. It’s that she’s thinking about this in a way that a good lawyer would.
“Were you previously a lawyer?” I ask.
