He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t want them to pick me just because I’m the founder’s son.”
She snorted. “Son or not, you’re the best candidate. No contest.”
“Thanks,” he said, chewing on his lower lip. “I’d love the opportunity. And I know it would make my dad proud.”
He ran a hand through his hair, leaving an errant lock sticking straight up in the back.
“Noah,” Mia scolded. She stood and beckoned him to lean over. He obeyed and she smoothed his hair down, a ritual they performed at least twice a week. “Better.”
“Thanks.” He turned toward his office. “You’d better get out of here.”
“I will as soon as your three o’clock arrives.”
He started down the hall to his office just as Julia and David, both architects like Noah, came from the opposite direction.
Julia paused and flashed him a smile. “Hey, Noah.”
He offered a polite greeting but kept moving, and Mia scowled at his back. No matter how many times she brought it up, he always brushed off the suggestion Julia was interested in him.
Julia, looking poised and elegant in a gray dress and heels, veered off into the break room while David turned to where Mia sat. “I can’t find the Trodeau file.”
She blinked, disarmed by his clipped tone. She shouldn’t have been, though, because he always spoke to her like that. “Um, I thought I filed it last week. Did you check the black file cabinet?”
He looked at her like she’d just asked if he knew right from left. “Of course.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I might have misplaced it,” Mia said, unease filling her stomach. Every time she messed up—which wasn’t often—it always seemed to involve David. The man thought she was a complete idiot. “I’ll find it.”
David just stood there and arched a sardonic brow.
Mia glanced to the side, then forced herself to regain eye contact. “I can’t do it right this minute, I’m about to leave—”
“Right,” David said disapprovingly. “It’s Thursday. Make sure it’s on my desk first thing tomorrow. It’s important.”
“Yes, I can do that. I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”
He didn’t reply and went back the way he’d come.
A subtle chime sounded, alerting Mia to a newcomer in the office. A young woman with long brown hair stepped into the foyer, and Mia stood.
“Good afternoon.” She smiled, trying her best to shake off the interaction with David.
The woman came forward. “Oh, hello. I’m Darcy Lane—I have an appointment?” It came out like a question.
“Yes, at three o’clock with Noah.” She should probably refer to Noah as Mr. Agnew to clients, but that had always been what she called Noah’s father. “I’ll just let him know you’re here. Can I get you anything? Water, coffee?” Serving and chatting with clients while they waited was one of Mia’s favorite parts of her job.
“I’m okay, thank you.” The woman sat in the chair farthest from Mia and pulled out her cell phone.
Guess she wouldn’t be one of the chatty ones, but that was probably best since Mia had to leave, anyway. She picked up her desk phone and hit number one on her speed dial.
“Client’s here?” Noah asked by way of greeting.
“Yep. Should I set her up in the conference room?”
“Not yet. I need a couple of minutes to get her stuff together. I’ll come get her when I’m ready, you need to head out.”
“Relax. I won’t be late.”
“You will be if you don’t leave now.”