Page 34 of Some Like It Hops
“Then, this afternoon, right there in my conference room, it all comes together. I find out she’s been fucking my CFO, my best friend since middle school and they came up with this plan to take my company from me.”
I reach across the table and place my hand on his arm. “Griffin.”
His tense muscles relax beneath my palm. He stares at my hand for a long few seconds, then slides his hand over mine and meets my gaze.
“I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head sadly. “I tell you all this, after ditching you for our date and not speaking to you for weeks afterwards, and basically confirming that I’m a pompous ass who hooks up with his employees… the kind of guy whose best friend fucks him over, andyouapologize? See how you’re too good for me?”
I roll my eyes and try to pull my hand away, but he holds onto it.
“I don’t deserve one, but will you give me another chance?”
I swallow the thickness in my throat and nod, even though I probably shouldn’t.
A slow, sexy smile spreads across his face. “What are you doing right now?”
I look at my show still paused on the television, then back at Griffin. “Nothing?”
“Perfect.”
Chapter Eighteen
Griffin
It didn’t occur to me how badly I needed Charlie to believe me until she did. I stand and roll my shoulders, my tension slowly easing in the comfort of her faith in me.
Charlie motions behind her toward the fridge. “Do you want a beer or something?”
I nod. “I’ll get it. You stay there.”
She’s gorgeous regardless, but curled up like that on the couch, she’s even more beautiful. Relaxed, even though I’m sure my presence here has her on edge. I did just show up out of nowhere, completely uninvited. I’m lucky she even let me in.
I enter her kitchen and open the fridge. The bottom shelf is full of perfect rows of brown bottles with that ugly blue and gray label.
“Hey,” I call. “What made you choose these colors for the brewery?”
“Those are the colors that dogs see.”
I tilt my head, considering. Huh. Wait. “But if they already see those colors, couldn’t you paint the brewery any colors you want and the dogs would still just see blue, yellow, and gray?”
She pauses for a few beats. “You’re annoying.”
I smile as I crouch and read the labels. Looks like IPA on the left side and a blonde on the right. I grab a blonde and turn it around in my hand, but there’s no back label to tell me about the contents.
“Is this Gentlemen Prefer Blondes what you had me try at Fast Lane?”
“Yes.” There’s a smile in her response.
“Would you like one of these or the…” I read the label of one of the IPAs. “Some Like It Hops?” I tilt my head. “Are all of your beers named after Marilyn Monroe movies?”
“So far.”
Huh. Interesting. “Your red ale?” Assuming she has one, which, I don’t know because I have yet to ask her anything about herself. “Do you have one?”
“I do.”
“And it’s called…?”
