“Hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, flashing a killer smile.
“No,” said Brandon, lying. “Nope. Not disturbing me.”
There was a five-second pause.
Frank raised the hand holding the six-pack. “Can I come in?”
Brandon stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. “Of course. Shit. Sorry. Come in.”
Frank twisted two cans of beer from their plastic rings and, without asking, put the remaining four cans in the empty bar fridge.
“So what’s all this?” he asked.
Brandon went over and shuffled the various pieces of paper into a small, untidy pile. “Nothing. Nothing. Just some work I have to finish.” He turned to face Frank. “But not today. Not now.”
Frank laughed, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling, even in the dim light.
“So tell me about yourself,” said Frank, taking the liberty of sitting on Brandon’s bed, since the only chair in the room was at Brandon’s desk.