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The jury coordinator passed around menus for a local takeout joint and noted our sandwich orders before excusing himself to get our lunches.

I settled into one of the chairs and smiled at the woman next to me. She had a pleasantly creased face, purple glasses, and a cap of iron-gray hair; her smile seemed genuine as she extended a hand to me.

“I’m Shelly. Or am I juror number four? I’m not sure what the etiquette is.”

I smiled. “Me, neither. And I’m Andi, aka juror number sixty-nine.”

She shook her head before winking at me. “Sorry you got drafted. That’s usually such a lucky number.”

I bit back my grin.

“Shelly, I think we’re going to be friends.”

“You like the cut of my jib, eh?”

After five years celebrating Talk Like a Pirate Day, matching her playful tone wasn’t hard. “Heave ho and hopefully we’ll know soon if Mr. Shepherd is going down with his ship.”

“I can’t wait until they interrogate the scallywag about the reindeer costume on the stand. There’s swagger, and then there’s stupidity.”

I burst out laughing, only quieting when I glanced up and collided with Ty’s disapproving frown.

Shelly didn’t miss his expression of disdain. She tilted her head in his direction. “You know Mr. Surly over there? In my day, that one’s brand of handsome would have given me sea legs. Savvy?”

If that was Shelly’s not-so-subtle attempt at saying Ty was handsome, I couldn’t disagree.

I grinned at her, and another juror plopped down in the other seat next to me.

“Hi, I’m Sam, juror number twenty-three.”

The friendly thirty-something man on my right had pleasant features beneath a cap of dirty-blond hair. I took the hand he extended, shaking it.

“Andi, number sixty-nine. Nice to meet you.”

His suppressed smile at my auspicious number challenged me to keep my own poker face.

“What are you in for, Andi?”

Sam seemed at peace with his selection, his expression affable.

“Just doing my civic duty,” I answered easily.

His lips twitched. “Couldn’t get out of it?”

I shrugged. “Seemed like a nice break from work.”

“My condolences.”

His mock solemn tone had me looking at him with new appreciation. Snarky and cute, just my type.

“What about you?” I asked.

If he was disappointed to be called, he hid it beneath a layer of good humor.

“Alas, I’m not critical to Commencement Wines’ operations. My brother’s wife is covering for me in the tasting room. Really, I think my brother was glad to be rid of me for a few days. Or weeks.”

I chuckled. My brother Jimmy and I were mostly consumed with our own lives, but around the time of his marriage and accident, there were probably a few days he would have wished for me to be tied up with jury duty instead of sticking my nose in his business. Siblings: Always in your corner, sometimes annoyingly so. Doubly when you were the only close family.

“Well, it seems like his loss is our gain.” Shelly broke in with a grin and a sly glance between us.