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Outside, the air wrapped around Griff like a damp shroud. However, he would have had better luck throwing off the cloying, humid atmosphere than he would his anger. He’d been minding his own business, hurting nobody, and he’d been asked to leave and not come back by a guy wearing one of the shirts he’d passed over at Neiman’s because it looked too faggy.
Screw ’em. He’d had better burgers at Dairy Queen for a fraction of the cost, so what the fuck did he care, anyhow?
He cared because he’d been humiliated in front of people who used to cheer him. And going from a superstar of the Dallas Cowboys, surrounded by media photographers and screaming fans, to being escorted out of a glorified burger joint was quite a comedown.
He got to his car and unlocked it. Before he had time to open the door, he was grabbed from behind and flung against the rear quarter panel.
“We’re not finished with you.” It was the guy from the bar, the one who’d first spoken to him. His buddy was standing right beside him. They weren’t drunk. They were stone-cold sober. And, Griff realized with a blast of clarity, they weren’t disgruntled fans, either.
“This is for my wrist,” the guy snarled. He buried his fist in Griff’s stomach.
No, Griff thought as his knees liquefied, these guys aren’t sports fans with too many beers under their belts. They’re pros.
CHAPTER
12
FOSTER?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you come to the office tomorrow?”
He set down the book he’d been reading and looked across at Laura. She’d brought home paperwork from the office. Since dinner, she had been sitting on the sofa in the library, riffling through various reports. “If you want me to.”
“Some of this stuff is over my head,” she said. “It’s technical and requires your input. It’s been almost a week since you were there. I think it’s important for you to go to the office whenever you can.”
“You think the mice are playing?”
She smiled. “No, because they know I would tattle on anyone slacking off.” She hesitated, then said, “I think it’s important to you that you go.”
“Oh, so you think that I’m slacking off.”
She placed her hands on her hips in feigned exasperation. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”
“Okay, no more teasing. But you do understand, don’t you, that just because I’m not physically at the office doesn’t mean I’m not working.”
“I know that your mind is always busy, but there’s an energizing quality about actually being in the office.”
He considered her for a moment. “You’re doing your job as well as covering for me. Have the dual responsibilities become too much for you?”
He’d touched a sensitive spot, and she reacted. “Do you think they have?”
“Not at all. I’ve just noticed that you seem tired.”
She let that go for the moment. “I’m concerned for you, not me. You love SunSouth. It’s your lifeblood. You need that airline as much as it needs you. And when was the last time we went out to dinner?”
His head went back a fraction. “Sorry. I must have missed the segue. When did we switch subjects?”
“We didn’t. It’s the same subject.”
“It is?”
“We rarely see our friends anymore. I can’t remember when we last went out or had a couple over for cards or Sunday brunch. You stay here most days. All I do is work. I love it, and I’m not complaining, but…” She stopped, droppe
d her chin, and let the sentence trail off.
“You got your period.”
