“Where’s Crawford?” he asks.
“He’s on his way.”
Barnes scoffs, glancing at the guy behind him. “Typical. He can’t even be on time for an important meeting. You can go get that coffee, Kyle. I doubt he’ll be back any time soon. Typical big-shot billionaire, doesn’t care about anyone else’s schedule.”
I say nothing, quietly seething at his derisive tone, but I’m relieved to see ‘Kyle’ wander away. Barnes comes into Crawford’s office, and I push the door almost closed as I indicate he should sit in one of the chairs.
“Jesus, this place is like the Arctic,” Barnes mutters, looking around.
“Are you cold? I can turn up the heat,” I say. His mouth twists again, but this time in the tiniest of smiles.
“I meant the color scheme.”
“Oh, right. Mr. Crawford likes clean lines and different shades of white,” I say and head to the machine. “Can I get you a coffee? There are cookies too,” I say.
While I was waiting, I researched Barnes and learned that he has a sweet tooth. A rush of satisfaction moves through me as his eyes light up when they land on the huge chocolate chip cookies on the desk.
“Well, those I won’t say no to,” he says, picking one up as he takes a seat. “I’ll have an Americano as well, thanks.” I start making it, feeling his eyes on me. “How long have you worked with Crawford?”
I glance back at him. “Only a few weeks.”
“And do you like working for him?”
“I do,” I answer honestly. I find myself blushing again while I think about this morning.
The only sound for the next few minutes is the machine. Once I have the coffees ready, I take them over.
I hover, knowing from experience that men like Barnes sometimes relish their privacy. I hand him his coffee and step away very deliberately.
“Mr. Crawford asked me to make sure you’re comfortable,” I say. “But if you’d rather have some time alone, I’ll be just outside.”
His mouth kicks up at the corners. “Do many men turn down the chance to sit with you?” he asks.
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t offer to do it with very many.”
He lets out a bark of laughter and nods to the seat beside him as I sit down.
I’m aware that many men in his position might treat me in a certain way because of my looks. I’m not naïve enough to believe that he wants to talk to me out of the goodness of his heart, but Barnes isn’t what I expected.
I can’t put my finger on what makes me feel comfortable around him. He’s like Ambrose, allowing people their space. It’s unusual. A lot of men in his position are lecherous creeps.
“So, Miss Brooks, was it?” I nod. “He’s asked you to entertain me,” he leans back in his chair. “What shall we talk about?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “Why do you have flamingos on your tie?” I ask impulsively.
Barnes’s eyes widen in surprise, and then he grins. “My son bought it for me. Apparently, flamingos are his favorite bird.”
I squint at it. “Is the one at the bottom playing a guitar?” I ask incredulously.
Barnes picks up the tie, raising his eyebrows. “Well, would you look at that? So it is. I never noticed. I hope none of them are doing anything rude, that would be just like Justin. He loves that kind of thing.”
I sip my coffee as he drops his tie again and glances around the office.
“You know, I don’t understand spaces like this. I’d have to have some color in my life, or I’d go nuts. How does he find anything in here? It all looks the same. I have to have towering stacks of paper on my desk, or I don’t feel like I’m working. The digital age is really destroying my love of clutter.”
“Very true,” I say. “Although the color scheme is growing on me.”
“It’s interesting, I’ll give him that. But, damn, what a view.”
