Page 34 of Billionaire Retreat

“I wouldn’t figure Richard would be related to you.”

“Well, he looks a lot different from me, but—”

“No,” I said looking him squarely in the eye. “He’s a decent person, which is more than I can say for you.”

I walked away, not giving him a chance to answer and went to my place on set. He didn’t leave, he just watched me. Any time he tried to approach me during a break I made sure I was busy talking to someone else, especially Jerry. By the end of the day, I was feeling quite accomplished and I was thoroughly enjoying making Griffin jealous.

He finally caught up with me about six hours into production when I was in makeup again.

“Hey,” he said to the makeup artist, giving her a charming smile that brought back memories I’d rather forget. “Do you mind giving us some privacy for a second?”

She looked at me and then up at Griffin and shrugged. “Two minutes. I need to do a few touch-ups.”

I sighed as I sat up in my chair. “Griffin. Don’t you work? Don’t you have a corporation to run? Why are you hanging out here like a sad puppy?”

“I’m not a sad puppy. I’m an alpha wolf. Remember that.”

I spun around in my chair and gave him a long look. “Ever since you overheard my conversation with Jerry, or rather, eavesdropped on my conversation with Jerry, you’ve looked like a sad puppy. A sad Great Dane puppy.”

He perked up. “At least Great Danes are feared and respected dogs.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Scooby-Doo.”

“Ouch, now that was low.”

“I shouldn’t have insulted Scooby like that. After all, Scooby doesn’t have an issue with his moral compass.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

I looked down at his hand meaningfully, not seeing a ring there.

“How’s the missus doing? How’s your kid?” My tone was even, light even as if what I found out all those years ago didn’t matter, as if I hadn’t been unforgivably hurt by him.

He gave me a puzzled look and was about to say something when the makeup artist reappeared. “Time’s up,” she said, unceremoniously pushing me back into the chair.

“What makes you think I’m married?” he asked, standing on the opposite side of the makeup artist.

I was shocked that he wanted to have that conversation right here and now within listening distance of a complete stranger.

“Lower your voice,” I hissed. “I’m working, in case you haven’t noticed.”

The makeup artist sighed as if she wanted to be anywhere else but around us and I instantly felt bad.

“Sorry,” I said to her.

She shrugged. “This isn’t the worst I’ve heard by far. People think bartenders and stylists have to hear more than they want. Ha! They should try being a makeup artist. It really sheds light on how much people suck!” And with that she walked away, leaving me alone with Griffin again.

“Explain.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you, Griffin. Quit acting dumb,” I said and my Southern accent deepened as I became upset.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about... I’m not married.”

“Maybe you aren’t married now but all the evidence supports that you were married then.”

“What evidence?” he said crossing his arms over his chest. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans and jeez he looked good. I tried not to notice that as I responded.

“Let’s see... you sleep with me and then randomly leave the island and when I do try to contact you again, I’m escorted out by security.”