"Is that so?"

Barclay grabbed a damp tissue, leisurely wiping his hands.

Moira felt her hand tremble beneath her as she heard his words.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "Mr. Covington, you go on to work. Sometimes I just don't have much of an appetite."

Barclay looked at her for a moment. "Okay."

He didn't press further, rising from the table and leaving.

He took a couple of steps before halting, then turned back to glance at Moira, who seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks for yesterday afternoon," he said.

"It's a trifle. Never mind."

She was the one who needed more help than he did.

Barclay shifted his gaze away and turned to head upstairs.

Soon enough, Moira saw him descending, his tie neatly done.

"Take care, Mr. Covington."

Moira waved her hand. Barclay gave her a brief nod before exiting.

heard the sound of a car engine

her lips and turned to

with the pieces and getting them

do

Her eyes were on

the seventh mistake, Moira

was no way around it. Barclay's words in her

and lay on top of it for a

Juliet, who may be single

a

quickly typed back. [What's wrong, dear? This emoji

embarrassed and hesitant to explain. [I've encountered a really

up? Tell me about it, and I'll help you

to type out her

previous night, but then

moment of consideration, she

to be direct. [Juliet,

Barclay would like

sensed that something was off. [You've developed

froze in

guessing caught Moira

couldn't help but like him involuntarily! If you like him, just go for it.

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