The Steak-Out
Ryder
The place was packed, but I'd scored us a decent table and was doing my part to get Griff drunk.
On steak.
On potatoes.
And on the whiskey that I'd been ordering back-to-back.Some of the whiskey was for him.But the rest of it?Yeah, that was for me.
And Griff?He was hoovering it up like he hadn't eaten in days.
No surprise there.The guy's kitchen was so bare, he'd probably been gnawing on the walls.
And how did I know this?
Easy.After leaving the coffee shop, I'd gone straight to that shithole apartment, where I'd let myself in and made myself at home while waiting for him to get off work.
Yeah, work.
At a bike shop.
If that wasn't hilarious, I didn't know what was.
Except I wasn't laughing. I mean, sure, I was putting on a decent show. But on the inside?I wasn't feeling it.
I was hungry alright, but not for food. What I really wanted was intel, and the person across from me was just the guy to give it – except he wasn't, because he was too busy inhaling his steak.
Sure, he'd always been tight-lipped when it came to anything personal, but tonight he was even worse. So far, he'd said nearly nothing except jack and squat.
And Iknewthere were things worth mentioning, whether he'd cough them up or not.
To get the ball rolling, I said, "From what I hear, you got a job."
His fork paused in mid-air. "And you know this, how?"
Two words. Franny Mulberry."I've got my sources. Did I mention it's a small town?"
He gave me a look. "You live in Chicago."
"You and me both. But it doesn't take long to make friends in a place likethis." I flashed him another grin. "Especially when you're me."No joke. Apparently, I was a mega-VIP.
And yet, I wasn't feeling it, not after that scene with Tessa. I still didn't know why things had gone sideways, but whatever the reason, it was still messing with my head.
So here I was, looking for the inside story from a guy who must've had more answers than me.
But was he giving them?
Hell no.
Like a man on a mission, he was already back to the steak.
Please.Like I'd letthatstop me. I leaned back in my chair. "The way I hear it, I'm not theonlyone making friends."
Abruptly, he set down his fork. "Meaning?"
It was time to go for broke. "Word is, you've got a thing going with that brunette at the bike shop." Or at least, that's how Franny had described her – a cute brunette with a knockout smile.
