Page 49 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

Tossing the towel aside, he examined her windblown hair and checked his watch. It was almost half past six, a gap reasonably explained by the busy downtown traffic. But it was also enough time for her to walk here, even if she closed the kiosk a few minutes late.

His eyes narrowed on her face. “Did you call the car service to drive you home?”

Emma hesitated, jacket in hand. It was all the answer he needed.

Sighing, he went to take the windbreaker from her, hanging it in the coat closet next to the door.

“It takes less time to walk,” she protested.

“Debatable given the foot traffic at dinnertime.”

“Are you going to give me a hard time about this?” she asked, her voice pitched a touch higher.

Warning lights began to flash in his brain, but he couldn’t stop himself from being honest.

“I know a lot of people are still out at this hour, but downtown’s not a great place right now. You’d be much safer waiting for the car service.”

“Sure, dad.”

Garrett shuddered. “Don’t call me that.”

The light brown skin of her cheeks deepened in color. “I meant dad in the normal mocking way, not in the daddy sense. Don’t make it weird.”

He shook his head in despair. This woman was going to drive him insane. “Dinner is in half an hour.”

Emma’s head drew back. “Uh, do we do that together?”

Garrett thought about it. “Probably not every night. I often work through dinner, eating in my office when work is especially busy. But as I explained before, things are winding down there. Mohammed, the chef, is pretty good, though. You ate his food yesterday.”

“Rainer’s chef works for you, too?”

“He works for the building. He used to service the penthouses exclusively, but Rainer and I didn’t keep him busy enough. I eat at the office or out at business dinners often. Which is why Rainer and I decided to let the other tenants book meals from him too. It works out if they do it a couple weeks in advance.”

Her brow puckered. “Do you own this building too?”

“Me, Rainer, and two other old friends,” he explained.

Garrett regretted telling her immediately. Everything Emma was thinking was written on her face.

“That’s, um, nice,” she said, her expression a touch nauseated. “Is one of the other guys Fletcher?”

“No, these are friends I met in college. I lived with both Rainer and Elias in a condo at one point. We met his cousin Ian a little later. They’re my closestfriends.”

“Oh. That must be nice,” she said, picking at some invisible lint on her sleeve. “Being in business with your friends.”

“It is,” he said, trying his best to forget he’d likely separated her from one of her few friends by busting up her living situation. Unless you counted her coworkers, but who in their right mind would count Bethany?

Glossing over the momentary discomfort, he soldiered on.

Garrett jerked his thumb in the direction of his kitchen. “I let Mohammed prepare the meals for the rest of the building here. He leaves me something to heat up when I ask. But he’s been at Rainer’s more since he and George got together, preparing family meals. Did she tell you her dad lives in the building too?”

Emma nodded. “She did. It’s nice she and her dad can live so close.”

Was that wistfulness he heard? Why the hell had her mother let her leave home?

Emma blinked, refocusing on him. “George said she and Rainer are getting married in a couple of months. She invited me over tomorrow night to help her fix up some wedding favors. Since we’re telling each other our plans and all.”

“Keeping me informed isn’t obligatory,” he said, trying his best to sound breezy and unconcerned. “Neither is dinner. But you may as well join me if you’re free. I don’t think Mohammad likes cooking for one.”

---