He ground out, "We're not 'doing it' at all." And then, he shot me a look hard enough to cut steel. "For the record, it's not your business."
Well, damn.
Score one for Franny Mulberry.She'd called it, telling me on the way back to my hotel that the hit man-slash-bike mechanic was making eyes at Maisie like she was a treasure worth protecting – her words, not mine.
With a chuckle, I shot back, "Since when doyouget shy?"
His jaw ticked. "Since when doyouget nosy?"
"Nosy?" I laughed. "A few days, and you're picking up the lingo. Small towns, am I right?"
"Fine," he gritted out. "Since when do you get curious?"
The curiosity wasn't new. It was a trait that had served me well, especially in real estate, where digging deeper meant seeing what others had missed.
But now, my curiosity was centered on Tessa, who'd kept me guessing from the start. Even with today's pastries, I was still wondering what she'd done after I left.
Had she actually delivered them?
Or tossed them out of spite?I didn't think so – not with that delivery-fee line I'd pulled out of my ass.It was no fee. It wasn't a tip either.Mostly, it was compensation for the hassle I'd caused her at the end of the day.
I'd wanted to make her laugh. Instead, I'd only pissed her off – although for the life of me, I still didn't understand why.
When I'd mentioned the joys of raisin-grams to Griff, he'd had no reaction. This could mean one of two things.Tessa hadn't done it. Or Griff wasn't saying.Maybe it was his newest strategy, ignoring raisins in hopes they'd go away.
To his question, I replied, "I'malwayscurious." I leaned back. "But hey, I'm glad you asked, because there's something I want you to find out."
His eyebrows lifted. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah." I gave him a no-bullshit look. "What's up with the barista?"
He studied my face. "Raisin Girl."
"Yeah. Her." Sure, I could've said her name. And I could've mentioned she was from Chicago. I could've told him a lot of things, like the fact I'd recognized her from the start.
But experience had taught me something so simple it stuck. If you want clean intel, you give a clean slate.No hints. No heads-up. No breadcrumbs to follow.
To get him going, I leaned in to say, "She looks familiar. And I wanna know why."
Griff didn't even blink. His face could've been carved out of stone as he asked, "Familiar how?"
"You tell me."
Now he looked annoyed. "I can't because you're not giving jack to go on."
"Sure I am. I already said she's roommates with your boss."
"I don'thavea boss."
I laughed. "The hell you don't."
"I don't," he repeated. "What I've got is a place to pass the time, score some food, and preserve my cash. That's it."
Yeah, right.The guy was obviously in denial. I'd seen the way he'd gone rigid when I'd mentioned something horizontal with his boss – except apparently, I couldn't call her that, not if I wanted Griff's help.
And yet, I couldn't let him offthateasy. "Fine. We'll call her your girlfriend."
He stared. "What?"
