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Piper
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I’ve never considered myself the type of woman to chase a man down, but that’s exactly what I’m doing right now.
Griffin finally got back to me late on Wednesday evening to apologize for skipping class. His text was cryptic and curt.
Griffin: Sorry. Something came up.
I don’t like games, so I didn’t see the value in waiting hours to respond. I typed out a message and hit send almost immediately.
Piper: I’ll give you a private lesson whenever you want. Maybe you can try drawing me nude.
I admit I was deflated when I got nothing back until yesterday afternoon.
His response wasn’t what I was expecting.
Griffin: Meet me for coffee tomorrow morning. The Roasting Point on 7th Ave at 9 a.m. We need to talk. It’s important.
I didn’t reply to confirm until hours later because I was focused on helping Bridget plan her next course outline. She’s launching a special class next month at an extended care facility in Brooklyn. It’s a pro bono deal for the residents of a home where the mom of one of best friends used to live.
It’s admirable and I told her that I’d gladly do whatever I can to help out.
“Piper?” Joyce’s voice tugs me from my thoughts.
I’ve been sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the reception area of Kent & Colt for the past ten minutes. I asked Fiona if she could let Griffin know that I’m here to see him. She didn’t.
Instead, she called Joyce and left her a message to come to reception when she was free. She explained that there was a note on her desk when she arrived an hour ago telling her to direct all Griffin’s calls to Dylan.
After Fiona left to grab a coffee, I started to wonder if I should follow her out. I was about to, but now that Joyce is here, I may get my chance to see Griffin face-to-face since he didn’t show at the café.
I waited fifteen minutes before I sent him a text asking where he was. When another thirty minutes had passed with no word from him I came here expecting to find him knee deep in someone’s marital drama.
“How have you been?” Joyce walks toward me with a stack of file folders in her hands. “Griffin told me that Marco Tresoni was the jerk who robbed you. I’m not surprised. I knew something was off with that guy when he kept showing up unannounced to see Griffin.”
“I’m fine.” As thankful that I am that Marco has finally been caught, he has nothing to do with why I’m here. “I’m trying to reach Griffin.”
“You and me both.” She sets the folders on the reception desk with a thud. “He’s out of touch at the moment.”
“Out of touch?” I furrow my brow. “What does that mean? Isn’t he in his office? I only need two minutes with him. I promise I’ll be in and out in a flash.”
That lures a soft smile to her lips. “I take it this isn’t about your art class?”
I have nothing to hide from this woman. I don’t know if Griffin tries to keep his relationship status under wraps here at work, but Joyce doesn’t seem like the type to gossip. “We’ve been seeing each other.”
Her brows pop up in surprise. “Really? That’s great news, Piper. He needs a woman like you in his life.”
I like that she thinks so. I sense that they’re close even though he’s her boss. “I need to talk to him about something personal.”
She motions for me to follow her. “He’ll tell me I’m fired for disturbing him, but it’s a lie. If you two are dating, I know he’ll want to see you.”
I stand up and adjust the row of buttons on the red blouse I’m wearing before I shove my hand into the front pocket of my jeans.
“You look beautiful.” Joyce turns back to me. “Let’s go find that man of yours.”
***
“I don’t know what to say.” Joyce scratches her chin as she gazes down at Griffin’s desk. “Typically when he tells us not to disturb him, he’s in here working on a case.”
I glance back toward the hallway. “Maybe he just stepped out for a minute? Could he be in one of the other offices?”
“He’s not.” A male voice turns me around.
It’s Dylan Colt.
“Where is he?” Joyce calls from behind Griffin’s desk. “This is the Campbell file here. He’s scheduled to be in court this afternoon for the preliminary hearing.”
“He asked for a continuance.” Dylan steps into the office. “His attention was needed elsewhere.”
What the hell does that mean?
I wait for him to offer more, but he doesn’t, so I ask for clarification. “Will he be in at all today?”
“No,” Dylan says curtly. “I don’t expect him until Monday at the earliest.”
It’s Friday. He’s skipped out on his practice until next week?
My fingers flex with unwanted tension. “So his attention was needed on something other than work?”
“It’s a personal matter.” Dylan clears his throat. “I’ll let him know you’re looking for him when I speak to him.”
“I can always take down a message for him.” Joyce rushes to my side with a pad of paper and a pen in her hands.
I don’t know why this is grating on my last nerve, but it is. Griffin and I spent a couple of fun nights together, it’s not as if we pledged our unending devotion to each other.
Maybe I should have read between the lines of his last message to me. ‘We need to talk’ suddenly seems ominous considering the fact that he’s checked out of his life for a few days.
I shake my head in frustration and my eyes catch on the wall across the office. My sketch is gone. All that’s left is a nail where the frame once was.
“That’s not necessary,” I say without directing my words at either of them. “I’ll talk to Griffin myself when he decides to get ahold of me.”
It sounds petulant. I’m embarrassed. I rushed down here expecting to find the man who asked me if I felt the same things he did the other night. Now, I’m leaving unsure if I’ll see him again.