He moves toward the car, tapping a knuckle on the passenger side window. The driver lowers the glass and mumbles something in a tone so low that I can’t make it out.
“I’ll get home on my own,” Barrett says. “I won’t need you again tonight.”
Home?
Curiosity peaks my interest. He only transferred here from the Chicago office days ago. How is it possible that he already has a home?
When he turns back to me, I blurt out the question that’s sitting on the tip of my tongue. “Where do you live?”
My question sparks something in him. I see a flash of satisfaction pass over his expression before his left brow peaks. “Why do you want to know where I live?”
I instantly regret asking the question. I scramble for an explanation that makes sense. “I…well…I was wondering whether you live within walking distance of the office. If you do, you’ll probably save a lot of time traveling on foot instead of in that car.”
He turns to watch the car as it pulls into traffic. “Because that’s what Duke did?”
There’s a bite of frustration in his tone. I know it irritates him when I mention Duke. I can use that to my advantage. It doesn’t hurt to know your boss’s weaknesses.
Pasting a fake smile on my face, I give him a curt nod. “Duke set a great example.”
“Until he didn’t,” he quips.
Anger swirls in my belly. Duke is a good person. He doesn’t need this jerk making rude comments behind his back.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I glance down at the incoming text message.
Dale: Did I tell you how beautiful you were tonight?
I look up to find Barrett gazing down at my phone. I cradle it against my chest. “Excuse me. This is private.”
“What do you call a man who has made it past the first few dates but he’s boring as hell?”
This riddle is hitting too close to home. I’ve seen Dale three times, counting when I met him at Atlas 22, but I still feel nothing. I won’t give Barrett the satisfaction of knowing that.
“I call him a great guy.”
He smirks. “So Dale is your first...”
“My first?” I bark out a nervous laugh. “Um, no. I’m not a virgin.”
“No.” Barrett chuckles. “I wasn’t asking that, Isabella. I sure as hell don’t want to know that.”
My cheeks heat with the flush of embarrassment. I look around
at the people passing us by. I envy all of them. They aren’t standing in the middle of the sidewalk fumbling their way through an awkward conversation with their boss.
“Dale is obviously not a one and done,” he says, glancing down at his phone when it chimes. “I take it he’s the first man who hasn’t fallen into that category in some time?”
What the hell?
Am I supposed to respond to that? I won’t. My personal life is not his business.
The buzz of my phone saves me from my internal debate over whether his question was rhetorical or not.
Dale: I’m still at the bar. If you’re up to it, we can end the night with one last drink.
“Interesting,” Barrett drawls.
I don’t need to look up to know that he’s caught a glimpse of Dale’s latest message. I have to start turning my back to him before I read my incoming texts.