"Briefly," I admitted. "I was there when he got off the ferry."
She finished with the salt. "And you actually talked to him?"
I nodded. "Yeah, there was some mix-up with his duffel bag, and I was stupid enough to get involved." I waved it off. "It's not important."
Tessa became very still, her expression somewhere between curious and lost.
I searched her face. "What's wrong?"
"Eh, nothing," she said. "Just something in the back of my mind. I can't quite place it."
"Okay, so…" I lifted the little bottle, preparing to take another sip. "If he's not a hit man, what else is he?" I snickered. "According to Franny, I mean."
"Her backup theories?" Tessa laughed. "Millionaire banker or gangster in hiding."
I almost choked. "A gangster? Why would she think that?" I'd seen my share of gangster flicks, and none of those guys looked like Griff.
Tessa smirked. "She said he looked dangerous.Andsexy."
"Oh, my God."Forget sipping. I drained the bottle in one long gulp before returning it to the table with a hollow thud.
Tessa glanced at the empty bottle. "Want another? I've got plenty left."
I shook my head. "No way.Onehangover this week is enough."
"So…?" Tessa said. "Is he?"
"A gangster?" I couldn't help but scoff. "No. Definitely not."Or at least I sure hoped not.
Tessa rolled her eyes. "No, I meant, sexy."
An image of Griff flashed in my brain. It was from this afternoon. He was crouched next to a rental bike with his sleeves shoved up and the muscles of his forearms bulging just enough to be interesting.
And that tattoo of his – it made me him look just a little bad-ass.Or a lot.At the memory, I gave a hard swallow.
Tessa's voice interrupted my thoughts. "That bad, huh?"
I blinked. "What? Oh." I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I guess some might call him sexy." This was no lie. But unless I was careful, I would be linking that word to Griff and Franny at the same time, conjuring a second image that was far less appealing.
I was quick to add, "But it's just not his looks. He wasreallygreat at the shop today – with the mechanics in particular."
Looking more suspicious than impressed, Tessa asked, "But if he's so great, why would he work so cheap?"
This again?"He said he's here for a month, and he wants to kill some time – so he's doing some work at the shop, that's all."
She gave me a skeptical look. "For free."
"Not free," I reminded her. "For sandwiches and transportation." Beyond curious, I leaned in. "And how didFrannyknow I wasn't paying him with actual money?"
"Oh, that," Tessa said. "She heard it from her nephew." She paused to think. "Somebody named Jason?"
And then it hit me.Of course."Damn it. It was because of the sandwich."
Tessa scratched at her temple, leaving a streak of flour behind. "What sandwich?"
"Well, that's how I'm paying him, right? You know…with sandwiches."
"In theory."
