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“Now you sound like Karen. I fired one agent today, and I sure as hell don’t need another. Good-bye, Ms. MacLeod.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Darcy stepped in front of him to block his way. “You owe us some money. A check will be fine.”
Griffin pulled his money clip from his Levi’s pocket and peeled off hundred-dollar bills. “Here you are. I’ll expect a receipt.”
“You really ought not to carry such big wads of money,” Darcy warned. “It makes you an attractive target to muggers.”
Griffin flashed a mocking grin. “Why, Darcy, I’d no idea that you cared.”
“Mr. Moore, really.” Darcy had his receipt ready and removed it from her clipboard. “Here you are.” Embarrassed by his constant teasing, she felt a bright blush fill her cheeks, but as she walked away, he was chuckling to himself.
When Darcy returned to Defy the World, she debated mentioning the Architectural Digest feature to Christy Joy, but decided against it. For all she knew, Griffin had merely made it up to inspire her to keep working for him. She was ashamed by how effectively it had worked.
On her lunch break, she hurried down the street to Song and Dance Music to look through their classical CDs. They were arranged by composer and, as she thumbed through them, she found several featuring Griffin as the soloist. Dressed in tails and seated at a grand piano, he looked terrific from every angle.
Each CD included effusive praise from music critics. Darcy’s favorite lauded Griffin’s spirited passion and unparalleled technical brilliance. She’d recognized how well he played, but clearly she was too ignorant when it came to classical music to appreciate just how extraordinarily gifted he truly was.
That he had stopped rehearsing left her both puzzled and alarmed. She couldn’t afford to buy all of his CDs, so she chose the one containing Franz Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsodies, hoping that was what she’d heard him play.
She carried the CD up to the counter, where the clerk was an earnest young man with bright red hair and a million freckles. “Good choice,” he said. “Moore plays as though he invented the piano.”
“You sound like a fan.”
“I sure am. I heard him at the Music Center in Los Angeles a couple of years ago. He played three encores, and the whole audience was still standing and applauding wildly ten minutes after he’d left the stage for the last time. The man is phenomenal. I’ve heard he visits Monarch Bay occasionally, but I’ve yet to see him.”
“Perhaps your luck will change.”
“I sure hope so. I’d love to have his autograph.”
Griffin had scrawled his signature across her first estimate, but Darcy quickly discounted the thought of reproducing it for his fans. He missed no opportunity to take advantage of her, it seemed, but she wouldn’t stoop to taking advantage of him.
She swung by her truck before returning to work and left her new CD there rather than take it into the gift shop to add to their collection. She’d been enthralled by Griffin’s performance, but she didn’t want the plants jarred into collapse, or their customers, either.
After its initial rocky start, the rest of her day went well, and then, at a quarter to six, Griffin walked into the nursery carrying a long, slim package from Fun in the Sun.
“It won’t be dark for another couple of hours,” he said. “There’s a nice breeze, and you’re finished for the day. Come on home with me, and we’ll try out my new kite.”
George had overheard Griffin’s invitation and walked up to Darcy. “I’ll lock the gate. You’ve been working too hard and could use
some fun.”
Griffin introduced himself and reached out to shake George’s hand. “Thanks. I’ve tried to tell her the same thing, but totally without success.”
“Did you remember to buy string?” Darcy asked, grasping for a means to postpone the date.
“Of course. They won’t let you out of Fun in the Sun without a big reel. Now, don’t give me excuses, let’s go.”
“All right, but I’ll drive my own truck. That way you won’t have to bring me back into town later.”
“Whatever you’d like.”
George gave Griffin a thumbs up sign behind Darcy’s back. Certain something significant had passed between the two men, Darcy glanced over her shoulder, but George was merely smiling innocently.
“Have fun,” he said.
“If he claims I fell off the bluff, you’ll know he’s lying,” Darcy warned. “Tell the police it was murder.”
Griffin quickly discounted her dark prediction. “I think I’m the one who’s in danger here, George, but I’ll do my best to see no one comes to any harm.”
