Alpha Billionaire Series
Billionaire and the Barista Chapter 12

NATHAN

“Gavin,” I said, stepping into his office.

I stopped and looked at him and shook my head. He didn't even have the smarts to attempt to look busy. He lounged back i his chair; feet crossed on top of his desk.

“Hey, dude," he said, tossing a baseball in the air and catching it.

“Are we working today?" I asked, spreading my hands, indicating his lax attitude.

“I don't know, are we?"

Islapped his feet from his desk.

“Hey! It's not like you're taking this office seriously.’ He pointed at my clothes.

My belongings from Amsterdam still hadn't arrived, and I had not had the time to find a local tailor. My personal assistant in Amsterdam would not be joining me in the States, and I had not yet found a replacement to handle these matters for me. The only suit I had with me was the one I wore to the funeral. I still couldn't bring myself to put it back on. I was dressed like Iwas on vacation. I had wanted to be comfortable for my time here, to make a sad situation as comfortable as possible. Itwas bad enough that I had to bury my father, but I had to take over his office for him. This trip had been anything but comfortable.

“I need to know what the status is on the Lake Moore project. Specifically, the adjacent properties” I held out my hand and made a beckoning gesture, expecting him to produce something tangible and useful.

“I've got nothing man. I have a bonus offer out to a few real estate agents for whoever can get the sale.” He finally sat up anc looked like someone who was doing some work.

“I still need a written summary. Get on it"

I left his office and stopped in the conference room. Cameron had brought in a crew of temps to sort and file everything that had been stacked around my father’s office. Three women sorted through documents and made their own piles. Banker's boxes were stacked along one wall, and open boxes took up one end of the table.

When I returned to my office, it no longer looked the way it had when I had first walked into it last week. All of the paperwor had been removed, the carpet had been cleaned. Cameron was efficient and made things happen. I could see why my father had kept her for longer than two years when I could remember him constantly complaining about finding competent assistants.

Too bad she already worked for the office; I could use someone like her as a personal assistant. I buzzed the intercom and asked her to come into my office.

“Is everything okay? There isn't a problem with the job the cleaning crew did, is there?”

“No, everything is fine. I checked on the temps, and they look like they know what they are doing, more so than Gavin does” said.

“He's a slow self-starter, but your father did seem to think he did a good job," she said.

“And you?" I asked.

“He hasn't attempted to touch me inappropriately, or call me toots or babe, so I don't have any complaints.”

I closed my eyes. Please tell me I wasn't going to have to teach Gavin how to behave properly in an office setting. I made an relaxed my fists a few times.

“He hasn't...

Cameron chuckled. “Trust me, you would know if he did anything that constitutes sexual harassment. I'm not the type to let that go unchallenged. Gavin is fine, but with his, um, personality, I honestly had expected it"

“So, this bro-dude thing he has going, he doesn't just do it around me?”

She blinked at me a few times. “I just assumed that was his personality.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I shrugged. “Maybe it is now. It's something he picked up in college. Anyway, I'm glad to know he behaves and gets the job done. What had I called you in here for was to ask if you have a sister or a clone?”

“Excuse me? What?” Her hands went up in a defense position.

“I need a PA, and you have proven to be more than competent in getting things handled in a timely fashion. I need another one of you."

“Ah,” she dropped her defenses. “I can contact the agency and see what they have. Preferences? Expectations?”

I began ticking off on my fingers what I like in an assistant. “Over twenty-one preferred, a degree, but not necessary if they have proven experience, driver's license with clean driving record, competent, tech-savvy. They need to be able to think ahead and take care of problems before they arrive. I'm not looking for a bodyguard”

She nodded. “I have an idea now. I'll vet the candidates before I set up interviews. What time of day would you prefer to hay those meetings, spread out or get them all done at once?”

“That's exactly what I'm talking about, finding a solution before there is a situation. Before lunch, and all at once.”

“I'm on it” She left my office.

It had been several days since I had tried to see Gabriella. The entire weekend as I tip-toed around my mother I kept thinking about Gabriella. Her smile, how she looked so beautiful, even while clearly being tired. I kept thinking about how I had missed all those years ago that she owned the café. No wonder she couldn't come to Europe with me. Why hadn't she said something?

I wasn't going to get answers by second-guessing myself. I stood and crossed out of my office, grabbing my jacket.

“I'm out,” I announced as I passed Cameron's desk.

I needed to see Gabriella, and I was curious if what I had witnessed last week was a fluke or not.

When I pulled in the parking lot at Love Buns, I could only assume that the crush of patrons last week had not been a fluke. Itwas just as crowded when I walked in the door. Gabriella was behind the counter, another person with her, this time a young woman.

“Can I help you? Oh, hi Nathan," she said as I stepped up to the counter.

“I was hoping to have a chance to get to talk to you,” I said.

She let out a snort. “I told you to call. I'm really busy today."

“I can wait,” I said.

“Fine, wait. But it will be a couple of hours, not minutes. You really should just call and we can set something up” She closec her eyes and shook her head. “Fine, wait. What do you want while you wait?”

“Chef's choice. What do you recommend? I'll take your first two suggestions and a large black coffee," I told her.

She handed my order to the young woman making the coffee and ringing up the orders. I paid and carried my plate and cup to the seating area. For late morning, the place was more packed than I would have guessed. It was too early for the lunch crowd, plus— I scanned the menu to confirm my thoughts— Love Buns didn’t serve meals, or sandwiches even.

The seating area was full. I spotted a double table with a single person working on their laptop.

“Do you mind? There arent any other seats?" I asked.

“Sure, whatever,” the man kept his focus on the computer in front of him the entire time.

As before the cupcake Gabriella gave me was melt on the tongue perfection. It didn't literally melt, but it was a pleasure to eat, smooth, moist, sweet. I can't say I properly appreciated a well-made cake before having those perfect little cupcakes from Gabriella.

The last time I was here, the clientele was made up of the dreary after-work labor force. Those people slogging through their week. It made sense they would stop in here for a little ray of happiness to get them through the last few days of the week. This morning there seemed to be a mixed lot of people. Students with textbooks cracked open. Moms with small children in tow getting together. There was more than one person like my table mate with a laptop open in front of them.

How many novels were being written at this very moment?

To the side, there was a self-bus center for dirty dishes and garbage. Next to that was a narrow counter with utensils, extra napkins, sugar packets, and a large tip jar that said Wi-Fi across the front. Above that pinned to a corkboard full of fliers anc business cards was a sign pointing down to the jar that said, “help us keep good internet The lettering was clear and cleanly written with a black marker. The rest of the sign was decorated by what looked like the crayon scribbles of a small child.

The patrons in the seating area did not come and go. The turnover was fairly low, but they did return to the counter for coffee refills or to purchase another delicious cupcake. So, they weren't simply working there rent-free.

Gabriella had been right; it was a long time before I even noticed the crowd through the door had slowed to a trickle. I went back up to the counter to ask if she should talk now, but she was gone.

“Where did Gabriella go?” I asked the girl who was still there.

“Gabby's in the kitchen," she said pointing to the swing door.

I hadn't been in that kitchen for years. The prep counters were full of cupcake pans, full of liners, and waiting for batter. “Gabriella?” I called out.

“Back here!”

I followed her voice and found her elbow-deep in a sink full of dishes.

“I thought you were going to come talk to me when it slowed down?” I asked.

She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh. “just because there aren't customers walking in the door doesn't mean it's slowed down. I didn't tell you to make an appointment to brush you off Nathan. I'm swamped. I have to finish these cupcakes, and to do that I need my equipment cleaned. My dishwasher had to go home sick last night, and I was too tired, s I gambled that I would be able to take care of everything this morning” She lifted her soap-covered hands and the dish she was scrubbing out of the suds. “As you can see, I lost. Seriously, make an appointment. The best times are after five on Sunday, after seven Monday through Wednesdays. On Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, you might be able to catch me before ten or eleven.’

“Those are the café hours. If you can't meet with me until after the café closes, let's do something better. Let me take you ou to dinner”

She smiled. I did not anticipate her answer when she turned me down.

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