"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."

Barclay gave her

heard the sound of a car

and turned to head upstairs

coming up next week. Moira needed to make the most of her time, familiarizing herself with the pieces and getting them all memorized. With such a grand concert stage, she couldn't

wouldn't do

wasn't cooperating. Her eyes were on the sheet music,

the seventh mistake, Moira finally

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

a while, feeling a knot

consult Juliet, who may be single but had plenty of

a very gloomy

and quickly typed back. [What's wrong, dear? This emoji doesn't

hesitant to explain. [I've

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

from the previous night, but then hesitated and deleted it. After a moment of consideration, she decided to be direct. [Juliet, dol.net think

immediately sensed that something was

in

in guessing

I mean, even I couldn't help but like him involuntarily! If you like him, just go for it. What's there

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