Tuesday afternoon, I received an email from Mr. Barfield asking me to come to his office for a quick meeting. I left a note for Brigitte who was in a meeting herself and headed over to his office. I knocked and was told to enter.
I stood next to the chair facing his desk. “You wanted to see me, sir,” I offered.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Please sit.”
I sat and waited for him to continue.
“I, er, wanted to apologize on Noah’s behalf. His behavior toward you was beneath him and uncalled for. He can be a bit…insensitive, I know. He comes from a rough background, but he’s trying to—”
I cut him off. “While I appreciate your words on his behalf, it should be him apologizing, right? All the same, it doesn’t matter. It happened, it’s over, and I’ve had a life lesson. And as this has noth
