50
Whatever We Are
Maisie
It felt like forever since I'd mentioned the loan at all. And from what I recalled of that whole stormy fiasco, I'd said nearly nothing – just that I'd had a meeting with a bank.
If I'd said more, I honestly couldn't recall. But Ididrecall downplaying it. I mean, it's not like I'd walked through the door sobbing – even if Ihadwanted to.
So why was Griff bringing it up now?
Going for casual, I said, "I'm not sure what you're getting at."
His gaze locked on mine. "It was the day of the storm. We started to talk about it, but we never finished."
Finished how?True, he'd asked some questions, but I'd figured that was the end of it. After all, there was nothing he could do.
Hell, there was nothingIcould do.
Sure, I'd been trying like crazy to solve it, but every attempt led to just another dead end.
I was still lost in thought when Griff added, "You came back upset."
My stomach twisted at the memory. I'd beenmorethan upset. I'd been devastated, even if I'd tried not to show it.
And the problem wasn't going away. During the past week, I'd spent most of my free time – early mornings mostly – looking for some sort of solution to my sorry financials.
I'd found none.
Now, under Griff's persistent gaze, I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time.Damn it.We didn't open for ten more minutes, which meant I had no easy excuse to escape.
As if to drive the point home, Griff pulled out a chair and sat down directly across from me, apparently waiting for some sort of reply. When I remained quiet, he asked with a decent show of sympathy, "You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really," I admitted.
This was his cue to let it drop. But instead, he leaned forward to say, "Maybe I can help."
It was such a pretty thought, but unless he was offering money – which I wouldn’t take, anyway – I couldn’t imagine how he could help. "Help how?"
"It depends on what's going on." He smiled. "Maybe I'll get creative."
I tried to smile back. "I don't even know what that means."
"Neither do I," he said. "But I will when you tell me more."
With a nervous laugh, I asked, "WhenI tell you more?"
"Meaning?"
"It should beifI tell you more." I glanced away. "I mean…I just learned your last name."
"So?"
I felt awkward saying it, especially if he was trying to help, but I couldn't make myself ignore how lopsided this was. I let out a long breath, searching for phrasing that wouldn't come out rude. Finally, I said, "I just mean…financial stuff is personal, you know?"
Something in his eyes flickered, and he leaned slightly back.
My stomach sank. Maybe thathadcome out rude.
