Twenty seconds is all it takes before Griffin blows out a long breath and gives me one of his rare glares. He doesn’t like to lose, but if he has something to say, the man acts like he will actually melt if he doesn’t get it out.
“You know what? I’m going to tell you anyway,” he says, exasperated as he digs out a business card from his pants pocket. “Want to know why? Because I care about this place, and you need some good works in your life. This is a good thing that has the power to make you smile. I’m concerned about your teeth, man. I’m surprised they aren’t ground into stubs by now, and—”
“Griffin!” I fight a smile, a chuckle, something. He tries at least once a day to get me laughing. It’s become a silent game by now. One I plan to win. “What do you want to show me?”
“Oh, it’s nothing new. It’s Haven.” He hands me the card. “But the designer who did my house. I totally have her business card.”
The heat in my chest is unwelcome. But I don’t hate it either as my thumb runs over Ava’s gold-embossed name on the black business card.
“No. I told you I chose not to hire her.”
“Oh, I heard you. I heard how the owner refused to budge, then I heard how you chose to walk away when a perfectly good—no, when an incredibly talented—designer was there for the picking.”
I narrow my eyes. “She’s not a strawberry.”
“Basically. Strawberries are delicious and this woman is talented. Do I need to have you over for dinner to show off my house? I will, Birdie will insist, you know she will.” Griffin steps back, an arrogant smirk on his face. “Swallow some pride, my guy. Get over the fact that Haven offended you by taking another job, and hire the girl. Independently, because as it turns out she no longer works for Haven. Which I realize now makes the card a little worthless.”
“What?” I snap my gaze off the card.
Griffin shrugs. “Yep. That’s why this is perfect. I wanted to double the tip after I realized she alphabetized my baseball history books in my office. That’s commitment to aesthetics, right there.”
“And she just . . .” I swallow the annoying knot in my throat. “She just told you she didn’t work for Carina Haven anymore?”
“No. I never even spoke with her. I guess one of the detectives from the night you ordered a raid on my house—”
“I thought someone was breaking in!”
Griffin doesn’t pause; he hardly breathes as he barrels on, “Birdie and I went to the police station, because you know my girl, always wanting to bring people cookies now that she has a connection with my fam’s bakery. Anyway, when we went to grab a copy of the report, because records are good to have, we brought the cops some cookies. As it happens, a detective stopped to chat with us. We found out he wasn’t really on duty that night, but he was in the house with the designer. What are the odds?”
Why was a detective with Ava? A pang of something sharp, something like jealousy, prickles in my chest. I’m not jealous. There is no reason to be jealous. Ava Williams isn’t mine.
“Since he knows the designer personally,” Griffin went on, “I asked if he knew how to get in touch with her. She needed to get another tip, or a lunch, or something. More than the baseball books, she organized Birdie’s books by genre. If you want to get on my girl’s good side, you organize her books.”
“Griff.” Parker laughs. “Focus.”
“Right.” Griffin faces me again. “The guy let me know she didn’t work for Haven anymore. She’s cut ties and gone fully independent now. Oh, and I have an address. I must be trustworthy looking because he told me where she lived, so we could send some delivery. She likes—”
“Pesto.”
Griffin pauses. “Hey, that’s exactly what he told me. Zoodles, specifically. Being half-Italian I’m not sure how I feel about zucchini for noodles, but to each their own. How’d you know?”
I don’t answer. If he really wanted to impress Ava, he’d get the pesto from Frazzelli’s since they slice cherry tomatoes and fry them up. She loves the fried tomatoes in her pasta.
At least she did.
When I’m silent, Griffin goes on, but with a new curiosity in his voice. “I was thinking we could deliver instead, and you could swallow that pride of yours and offer her the job. She’s exactly what you want—an independent designer who, if I had to guess, would be up for some work.”
I hear him and don’t at the same time.
Ava doesn’t work for Haven anymore, and I can’t help but feel like I had something to do with it. Not only did I call the cops on her, but I’ve now interfered with her career. It’s a fist to the gut. She ran after me, looking for a chance, an opportunity to keep working on the youth field house.
I’ve had two interactions with Carina Haven. The woman is pretentious and arrogant. No mistake, she’s a woman who would not take it well if one of her designers wanted to go rogue.
I drag my fingers through my hair, staring at the business card as if it might go up in flames any second.
“Ryd,” Parker says. “What’s going on?”
“He knows her,” Dax says. He doesn’t speak up much, but when he does, it’s usually to drive a point home. “Obviously. I’m just waiting for him to give us the story. What are we walking into here?”
