Page 66 of Tangled Kisses
I don’t know the woman. Never seen her before. But I loathe her instantly.
The way she’s standing so close and the familiarity in her voice and gestures tell me exactly who she is.
One of his clients.
Which means she knows Griffin… intimately. And vice versa.
Perfect. Exactly the reality check I needed.
Jimmy, where the hell are you with my refill?
I stare into my empty glass, swirl the melting ice with the swizzle stick, and pretend the air between Griffin and me isn’t thickening by the second. Screw it. I’ll get my drink later. What I need right now is distance—some corner where I can pretend this transaction isn’t happening in full view.
But I chance a last glance at Griffin.
The charge rising off him is palpable—his shoulders squared, stance stiff, eyes dark. And his lady friend is too wrapped up in her performance to notice.
Or maybe she doesn’t care.
“I heard a terrible rumor,” she purrs, trailing her fingertips from his chest to his biceps. “Some nonsense about you retiring.”
Thatcatches my attention.
Second time I’ve heard that word in relation to Griffin, even though I know after his recent trip that it’s total horseshit.
Seems it’s a ready-made story for the man and honestly, who can blame him? We all need a good excuse once in a while. Like me, right now.
He downs his beer before clearing his throat. “You heard right.”
“That is unacceptable,” she replies, dismissing his claim with a wave of her hand. “Which is why I drove an hour to see you and talk you out of this crazy decision.”
“Nothing to discuss.”
“Oh, I think there is. Money talks, and I have plenty to sway you to my way of thinking.”
Is she serious?
Lady, take the L.
Jimmy walks toward us, drinks in hand. Thank God.
Time for me to go.
Griffin’s eyes flick to mine, and in that split second I see something raw crawl across his face. Not pain exactly—disgust. Like her touch is acid on his skin. Not a hint of heat or indulgence for her demands.
Just revulsion simmering behind his baby blues, the look you get right before you hurl.
Join the club, buddy.
And that’s it for me. As his client keeps pressing the issue, I feel the snap inside my chest.
Time for me to enter their chat, because I have no issue making a scene on Griffin’s behalf.
Look, I know what he does for a living, but no means no, period, and I’m tired of the ultra wealthy throwing around their money like it erases boundaries.
Plus, Griffin is my friend, and right now, he needs a bit of assistance. A decoy. A wingwoman. Or maybe just someone crazy enough to piss off one of his clients in public.
Here’s hoping he doesn’t kill me for it later.
