Matt fought back a smile. You had to admire the kid’s style. “Last I checked, this was my office. So I’m not late. You’re early.”

Travis gave Matt a flat stare that usually came from the kind of man who had teardrops tattooed at the corner of his eye. And while twenty-something Travis was missing that particular mark, he did have his share of tats and piercings, including a gauged ear that made Matt wince every time he looked at it. The younger man was both wiry and wary, like a cage fighter. Sometimes he had the combative attitude of one, too.

Ginger entered the office on Matt’s heels. “He’s not late. And I’m betting you got here early just to snoop around.”

Travis did his best to look indignant. “I’m not snooping.”

Ginger cut her eyes first to Travis and then to Matt. “I really should start locking the door.”

“You did,” Holby said. “I just didn’t feel like waiting in the hallway.”

Matt glanced back at the door. No visible signs of damage. The guy was good.

Travis smiled proudly. “Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping myself amused.”

And there was plenty of stuff filling the office for Travis to amuse himself. Matt had to admit that he’d been kind of annoyed when Ginger had stuck a television and a mini-fridge in the outer office. He’d kept his mouth shut, though. She worked here forty hours a week, managing his books, taxes, and investments. He spingments. ent most of his time at the brewery, so if he made it up to T.C. three times a month, that was a lot.

Travis picked up a bag of potato chips from Ginger’s desk and popped one into his mouth.

“Those were in the drawer,” Ginger said.

He popped another potato chip, daring her to complain. “Jalapeño. Spicy, just like you.”

Matt had no idea what was going on between Holby and his office manager, but this clearly was not the first time they’d met.

Matt inclined his head toward the closed door to his private space. “Do you want to head into my office?”