Page 55 of Billionaire and the Barista

The rest of the afternoon was putting out proverbial fires preparing for this trip. When it should have been an easy afternoon of reviewing contracts.

I had no words for Gavin when I left and headed straight to the airport. Jonah had driven the Jag back to the apartment so that it wouldn’t be left in the lot at work.

I ate greasy airport fast food and had a rocky flight into Houston. Once in the hotel, I gave Gabriella another call.

“I got your text. Is everything all right?”

“It could be better,” I said.

“Do you need me to come to you? Or it’s not your mother, is it?”

I had only told her that I needed to cancel, something had come up. I must have been too preoccupied to go into details.

“No, I’m sorry sweetheart. I had to fly out to Houston. So, unless you’re prepared to get on a plane, you can’t come to me.”

“What are you doing in Texas?” I could hear the laugh in her voice.

“Picking up the slack, like I always do. I don’t want to bore you with details. Tell me about your day.”

“Talk about boring details. I made cupcakes. I sold cupcakes. Oh, I did interview a possible new hire. I think I know how you felt when you were hiring Jonah. This is one of the kids,” she continued to describe one of her hard case racers.

I groaned. “I wish you wouldn’t encourage them.”

“It’s not what you think Nathan,” her voice dropped, and I could hear the tension that I had missed earlier. She was breaking her back running that shop. She needed the help.

“You’ll make the right call. I have a feeling you always do,” I said.

“Tell me about your hotel room. Is it super-rich and fancy?”

I laughed. It’s a generic hotel room. One bathroom, two beds, one TV. There’s some kind of game going on in town and a lot of the hotels were full. Cameron had a bit of a time getting me here. Gavin should have made these reservations a while ago, and then had them transferred into my name.”

“You sound like you have had a long and trying day. Try to rest. I’m sure you have an early morning.”

“I do, but I wanted to hear your voice,” I admitted.

“I like your voice too. Goodnight.”

I hated ending the call with her. It felt so final. Like it would be another six years before I saw her again. Maybe I had realized that talking to her was the only reasonable thing that I would have to deal with the entire trip.

In the morning when I showed up at the real estate agent’s office, matters only got worse.

“I confess I didn’t fully understand why your assistant was confirming a meeting with us. We did not have any on the schedule with your associate.”

I kept my expression neutral, while inside I seethed. I was going to read Gavin the riot act when I got back, and then I was going to put him on a plane back to his father in Amsterdam. This was ridiculous.

“Sounds like we have a serious miscommunication,” I managed to say without sounding like I was as angry as I was.

“It does. But you’re here. Let’s make the most of your time. You’re on a deadline, and we need something for your environmental engineers to look at.”

“I was under the impression that the environment guys and the surveyors already have access to the properties, and it’s a matter of getting the thumbs up from them.”

The wide-eyed look I got in response told me that was not the case.

“I am sorry that is not where we are in the process at all. I forwarded information on prospective lots to your office. We haven’t received feedback helping us to narrow down your candidates.”

This was worse than trying to interview for a personal assistant. At least then I had options, now I didn’t even have that.

“Why don’t you show me the properties, and we can speed up this selection process. Do you have a crew you prefer to work with that you could expedite for the survey and environmental analysis once I make my decision?”

The agent nodded. “Yes, we have a full cadre of resources to make this happen for you.”

He showed me into the conference room, which became my office for the day. After reviewing stacks of files on a combination of empty lots, and areas that would require demolition of existing buildings, I narrowed it down to five potential sites.

I rubbed the back of my neck and popped my jaw. All of this work should have been completed by now. I didn’t know how much my father had allowed Gavin to get away with, and if this was a typical issue. But I wasn’t going to let this happen again.

The next day I was tired, having not slept well, and my tolerance for incompetence was holding on by a thread. The real estate agent was pleasant, understanding, and apologetic for a problem that was clearly not of his making. He gave me a quick drive-by tour of the properties before offering to drive me to the airport.

“I will email you my choices by the end of business tomorrow.” I thanked him for taking the time to work with me when I had essentially barged in and interrupted his schedule. By the time I returned to St. Louis I had made up my mind regarding Gavin.

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