Don't Sweat the Small Stuff Read Online Free Page A

mounted on the wall in front of me, and marble tile graced the entranceway. Thick, luxurious, green carpet covered the floor, like walking through rich green moss, and a leather furniture grouping curved around the TV screen. The open area led to a kitchen, and as we continued into the dwelling I could see the countertops were granite, with swirls of browns and reds. Cherry hardwood cabinets filledthe walls and the kitchen table was an intricate butcher-block design of hardwoods.
    “If you’re going to travel, and you can afford it, I believe in traveling with style.”
    It wasn’t a brag. Just a statement of fact. Here was a man who’d worked for it and had something to show for it. I could see why James was impressed.
    “There’s a whole lot more to see, but for now, have a seat. I’ve got a rather involved question to ask you two.”
    James and I sat down on the butter-soft leather sofa. Moe stood in front of us, nodding his head and smiling.
    “Anyone for a drink?”
    It was ten fifteen in the morning. Not that James and I didn’t sometimes have a drink at that time, but that was between the two of us. Right now we were with his employer. It didn’t seem to be the appropriate thing to do.
    “No. It’s a little early in the morning.” I was proud of my roommate. James was saving himself.
    “Too bad.” Moe walked to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator. I was somewhat embarrassed. He’d simply meant a little bit of healthy nourishment.
    “Well, a taste would be good.” I was up for some OJ.
    “Great.” Moe reached back into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne. He pulled off the foil, twisted the metal cage from the plastic stopper and popped it out. The stopper shot to the ceiling and white bubbles foamed from the mouth of the bottle.
    “I start most mornings with a mimosa,” he said. He poured three healthy glasses of OJ and champagne and handed them to us. This would be a morning to remember. For a lot more than just the drinks.

CHAPTER SIX

    The alcohol surged through my body, and the soft leather surrounded me like a glove. The three of us sat on the couch and toasted the success of another Moe Show. And I was just along for the ride.
    “Gentlemen—” I always got nervous when someone called me Mr. Moore, or referred to me as a gentleman. For good reason.
    “Gentlemen, I’ve asked you here for a very important reason.”
    James gave him a very hard look, eyes squinted and concerned. My roommate thought this visit was an affirmation of his employment. If there was another reason, he was clueless.
    “First of all, James was our number one choice for marketing director.”
    I had no idea James had a title. I suppose in a small way I was upset about that. I always thought I’d be the first one of us to have an actual job title. Other than the title “gopher.”
    “We, my sisters and I, are looking forward to your ideas, your energy, and your unique perspectives on things. Angie—Agent Hot Pants—has assured me you are a very unique individual.”He gave James a faint smile. I wondered if he knew they were already dating.
    “Thank you.” James nodded.
    “But there’s a second reason for me to talk to you.” He stood up, swigging the rest of his mimosa in one gulp. “You boys have a private investigation company, am I right?”
    “We do.” James was on his feet. There was fire in his eyes, and he’d totally come alive. I have to admit, I was amazed. How did this guy Moe know we were private investigators?
    “How did you know that?” This guy was amazing. The Private Investigator license was not even forty-eight hours old.
    “James told Angie. Angie mentioned it to me.”
    Well, there you go. It’s not private if you tell everyone.
    “And I need a P.I. firm.”
    “For what?” I couldn’t fathom what good we would be to a Moe Show.
    “For a little undercover work. To find out who is trying to sabotage my company.”
    James