Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [10]
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NINE MINUTES later, Matt pulled up to the office building housing his third-floor walk-up office space on Traverse City’s Front Street. It was small but had a great view over Grand Traverse Bay, the long natural harbor separating Lake Michigan from the town. The largest city in the area, Traverse City was a grown-up version of Keene’s Harbor, with a sleepy population of 15,000 in the off-season, swelling to the breaking point with tourists and summer people in July and August.
Travis had made himself comfortable in Matt’s office, taking up residence in the reception area from the seat behind Ginger’s desk. “You’re late, Culhane.”
Matt fought back a smile. You had to admire the kid’s style. “Last I checked, this was my office. So I’m not late. You’re early.”
Travis gave Matt a flat stare that usually came from the kind of man who had teardrops tattooed at the corner of his eye. And while twenty-something Travis was missing that particular mark, he did have his share of tats and piercings, including a gauged ear that made Matt wince every time he looked at it. The younger man was both wiry and wary, like a cage fighter. Sometimes he had the combative attitude of one, too.
Ginger entered the office on Matt’s heels. “He’s not late. And I’m betting you got here early just to snoop around.”
Travis did his best to look indignant. “I’m not snooping.”
Ginger cut her eyes first to Travis and then to Matt. “I really should start locking the door.”
“You did,” Holby said. “I just didn’t feel like waiting in the hallway.”
Matt glanced back at the door. No visible signs of damage. The guy was good.
Travis smiled proudly. “Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping myself amused.”
And there was plenty of stuff filling the office for Travis to amuse himself. Matt had to admit that he’d been kind of annoyed when Ginger had stuck a television and a mini-fridge in the outer office. He’d kept his mouth shut, though. She worked here forty hours a week, managing his books, taxes, and investments. He spent most of his time at the brewery, so if he made it up to T.C. three times a month, that was a lot.
Travis picked up a bag of potato chips from Ginger’s desk and popped one into his mouth.
“Those were in the drawer,” Ginger said.
He popped another potato chip, daring her to complain. “Jalapeño. Spicy, just like you.”
Matt had no idea what was going on between Holby and his office manager, but this clearly was not the first time they’d met.
Matt inclined his head toward the closed door to his private space. “Do you want to head into my office?”
“When I’ve got football on the TV and your amber ale chilling in that fridge? Hell, no.”
Matt looked over at Ginger. “Why don’t you head on home? I’ll catch up with you on Monday.”
“Okay.” She shot Travis another glare. “Not a single crumb or you’re a dead man.”
“Sorry about that,” Matt said after Ginger had left. “She’s not usually so—”
“Locked and loaded?” Travis said. “Don’t worry about it. Actually, I’m surprised she didn’t body slam me.”
Matt dragged over one of the guest chairs so he was seated next to Travis. “I take it you know her?”
“Used to date her. She dumped me for cause.”
Matt didn’t especially want to know the cause. He was sure he’d either done it or had it done to him at one point or another.
“Thanks for coming into town and seeing me.”
“No point having you drive all the way out to Horned Owl.”
Which was part of Travis’s problem. He’d sunk a ton of money into a brewery and taproom so far off the beaten path that visitors needed to drop a trail of bread crumbs in order to find their way back to the highway.
Matt stood, got two ambers from the fridge, and handed one to the younger man before sitting. Travis opened the top-right desk drawer and pulled out a bottle opener.
“You’ve got this place scoped out,