“Nothing,” he said. “She left in a hurry. Probably got fired from her job.” He snorted in derision.
Griffin’s jaw tensed with anger. “Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.” He turned and stalked out of the hole of her apartment, angrier than ever.
You can be as mean to me as you want, Mr. Griffin, but I’m going to do my job to the best of my ability, no matter how nasty you are.
She’d put up with everything to succeed here, and he’d somehow destroyed that—and her heart—in one fell swoop.
Angry at the world, but mostly at himself, Griffin went back to his sedan. As he got in and waved the driver to return to his townhouse, he began to text Hunter.
Tell Gretchen I’m a dick. And ask her if I can please have Maylee’s home address. Her home in . . . wherever in God’s name she would have gone back to. Arkansas? Louisiana? One of those places where they all talk like she does.
Soft, sweet, and adorable.
Griffin ran a hand down his face. He really was a f**king prat, wasn’t he?
***
“The Brotherhood’s going to be light one member tonight,” Reese said as he lit his cigar. “Jonathan ran off on one of his half-cocked trips again.”
Griffin frowned at his cards. He’d been waiting for Jonathan to show up so he could talk to him about their joint dig. But he found that he didn’t give much of a shit at the moment. Maylee’s missing presence was gnawing at him like an ache. He could talk about archeology any time, but now he just wanted his girlfriend back.
Was that what Maylee was to him? Griffin scowled at his hand of cards, not even seeing them. Girlfriend seemed like the wrong word. It was too frivolous, too silly for how he felt at the moment.
All he knew was that he needed Maylee, and she was gone because he’d hurt her. And he needed to fix it.
Logan eyed him from across the table, frowning. “You going to bid, Griff?”
Griffin stared at his cards, still not seeing them, and gave up. He folded and waved a hand at the table, and Cade and Reese tossed their chips in after Logan.
The basement door opened, and Griffin looked up, his heart slamming. He wanted to see Hunter tonight . . . but more than that, he wanted to see Gretchen. Maybe they would know something.
The person he’d been waiting to see walked down the stairs—Hunter. The scarred, broody billionaire shrugged off his sport coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair, and then sat down at the table.
A moment later, lighter feet thumped down the stairs. “Save me a spot, baby!”
Logan groaned. Cade grinned, and Reese kept his expression carefully neutral as his new sister-in-law, Gretchen Petty, bounded into the room and sat at the table, her voice breathless. “Sorry I’m late. I had to take a wicked piss.”
“Thank you for sharing,” Logan said in a dry voice. He shot a look at Hunter. “I wasn’t aware you were coming to every meeting from now on, Gretchen.”
“I invited her,” Hunter said, glaring back at Logan.
“You know Griff and Jonathan don’t like her here. We’re brothers first and foremost.”
“I’m fine with it,” Griffin said, speaking up. He watched Gretchen, trying not to seem too hopeful. He didn’t want her to leave, not tonight. He wanted her to stay so he could weasel information about Maylee out of her.
Gretchen noticed Griffin and beamed a too-sweet smile in his direction. “Hello, dickface.”
“Is that really necessary—” Cade began.
“It’s fine,” Griffin said in a weary voice. “I seem to be on the shit list of several females lately.”
“Oh, shit,” Reese said. He leaned over and elbowed Griffin. “What did you do? Too much pu**y back in the home country?”
Griffin glared at Reese. That was a little too close to the mark.
Gretchen scooted her chair in between Reese and Hunter, deliberately ignoring the conversation. “So what are we playing? Slapjack?”
“Slapjack?” Reese gave her an incredulous look. “Are you f**king high? It’s poker!”
“We should play slapjack,” Gretchen said. “Hunter would be awesome at it. He’s got a really strong right hand. All those years of jerking off—”
“Gretchen,” Hunter said mildly, cutting her off. But his mouth twitched, and Griffin suspected he was laughing inwardly.
“What? Isn’t this how guys talk with one another? All sex and broads talk?” She winked at Hunter and reached over to stroke his thigh under the table.
At least, Griffin hoped to hell that it was his thigh.
“We’re playing poker,” Reese repeated. “Or at least, some of us are. Some of us are just folding at the start of every round.” And he scowled in Griffin’s direction.
“He’s mad at himself because he’s a dickface,” Gretchen said again.
“Isn’t it interesting that every time Gretchen shows up, she makes the entire meeting about her?” Cade’s words were teasing. He and Gretchen were old friends.
“I’m my own favorite subject,” she agreed, and Hunter put a hand around her shoulders protectively. As if that horrific female needed protecting, Griffin thought to himself. She was like a rabid animal even on her good days.
“So why is Griffin a dickface?” Logan asked.
“Other than the usual,” Reese said with a grin.
“He borrowed Hunter’s secretary for his trip, f**ked her, and then fired her,” Gretchen declared.
“Goddamn it,” Griffin said, his temper finally flaring. “I didn’t f**k her, and I certainly did not fire her.”
“If you didn’t f**k her, then why are you so moody?” Logan asked.
“Blue balls,” Reese chimed in.
Griffin glared at Reese again. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your pregnant wife?”
“Brotherhood meeting tonight. Very important stuff.” He chewed on his cigar with a wink. “Plus, I’m not getting any right now. Audrey’s got morning sickness night and day. So I might as well be here.”
“Spoken like a true gentleman,” Cade murmured.
“Oh, f**k off,” Reese said in a cheery voice. “After we get out of here, I’m going to that pickle place she loves on the Upper West Side for her. And then I’m stopping to get her ice cream. I should be f**king sainted after all that.”
“I’m still not clear on why we’re all mad at Griffin for not f**king his assistant,” Logan said.