Page 34 of Billionaire and the Barista

I blinked and took a step back. “You’re right, you’re right. That was out of line. I just”— I gestured toward her— “I haven’t seen her with anyone. She won’t go out with me, and you…”

“Don’t insult her like that. Yes, we were talking. I sit, she makes cupcakes. And then I offer brotherly advice because that’s what she is to me. So, take your jealousy and suspicions and shove em up your ass.”

He left. He wasn’t wrong. Old emotions surrounding Gabriella were partying around me, like it or not. I was jealous of the men she smiled at. It didn’t matter if they were across the counter from her or not. All I knew was she smiled at them but not at me.

“You look grumpy today,” Gabriella said when I approached the counter for a refill.

I shrugged and slid my cup across the counter.

“Did you see Mitch?” she asked as she picked it up and stepped up to the coffee maker. There was a line of industrial-sized dispensers across the back, each labeled with what they contained. “You had Columbia dark, right?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Yes, I spoke to Mitch.”

“Did you, you know, say anything?”

“Did I confess that in some dickish maneuver I pretended not to know the man the other day? Yeah, I did. Happy now?” I didn’t tell her that I continued and made myself into a bigger asshole than he probably already thought of me.

She grinned, and to see that smile start to form on her face had been worth it.

“I should confess to some other good deeds, if you’re going to look at me like that,” I teased.

“If you have to tell me you took the appropriate action for any given situation, such as coming clean to Mitch, that’s not exactly a good deed. Either is bragging.”

“That sounds like a lot of restrictions.”

“It takes a lot to impress me,” she said as she handed my coffee back.

I swear I saw a twinkle and spark in her eyes as she turned away from me. She was making me crazy. I don’t know why I thought I could come down here and work and be satisfied with seeing her but not talking to her or touching her.

“I have a big decision to make,” I started.

“Oh yeah?”

I leaned my hip against the counter, and she didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t shove me away claiming to be too busy to talk to me. Then again, there weren’t any customers trying to buy cupcakes or asking for more coffee.

“I interviewed candidates for a personal assistant this morning,” I told her.

“Did you meet one you liked?”

“I liked three of them,” I told her. I did. Cameron had gotten in a very smart, capable group for me to meet with. I was impressed.

“Well, then, what’s your next step?” Gabriella asked.

“I was hoping you could help me out there. How do you decide between candidates when you have more than one, and only one job?”

“Are you looking for industry secrets? Is this corporate espionage?” she laughed, and it did things to me.

“Seriously, how do you do it?”

“How did you hire your last personal assistant?” she asked.

“I had my assistant at work call the agency to send someone over, and she started working for me.”

Gabriella stopped and put her hands on the counter across from me. “Are you telling me you hired the first person you talked to because some employment agency sent them over?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s how I did it every time.”

“And you went through how many personal assistants a year?”

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