I shake my head. “No, but I am curious if?—”
“Dutton.” His father’s booming voice in the doorway startles me so much, I jump to my feet.
Henry Richford is just as tall as Dutton, if not an inch or two taller. His hair is salt and peppered, and his suit is in pristine form, considering the temperature in the room.
Mr. Richford has dark, beady eyes that freak me out more than I care to admit, and right now, those eyes are on me.
“Is this a meeting?” he asks, his gaze slowly slinking to his son. Gosh, he’s not even looking at me and my skin is crawling.
I scratch my arms as if I can make it go away.
“No,” Dutton answers.
“Ah”— his father makes a show of checking his watch—"We are still in working hours, are we not?”
I grab my jacket and take a step for the door.
Jesus, this is awkward. Dutton is a grown man, and this is how his dad talks to him? I mean, I’m not one to give advice on relationships with fathers, but this is not a healthy one.
I definitely don’t want to make it worse by staying here.
“It is. Brooke, stop.” Dutton's voice makes me pause.
Well, shit.
I turn slowly, keeping my gaze on Dutton. If he wants me to stay, I’ll stay. Quietly in the background, where I hope they both forget I'm here, but I will stay.
“Well, then you should be working and not sitting in your office with your shirt half undone and wasting your time with distractions.”
Yeah, I want to leave, but I can't seem to peel my gaze off Dutton.
I hope my eyes are sayingjust give me the go ahead, please.
But the longer I look at Dutton, the longer I feel like his eyes are saying,don’t leave me.
Somehow, I manage to pull my gaze away from his.
Listen to me.
Thinking I can read what he’s thinking just by looking into his eyes.
“Brooke is not a distraction,” Dutton says, and I swear when he speaks, it’s like a magnet. I’m suddenly watching him again.
“Now, I sense that you need something since you came all the way to my office. If you could tell me what it is instead of scolding me, I could help you reach your needs faster.”
As if this moment isn’t awkward enough, the room somehow fills with even more testosterone, waiting to see who is going to cave first.
Please be Mr. Richford.
“Grace has been sharing small details with me on her ten-year plan, and I came to see if you had made any progress on yours.”
Dutton nods.
“Of course, but it’s not ready yet.”
“It doesn't need to be ready yet. Just tell me one thing you have on it.”
“It’s really not?—”
