"No, in reality. But today, I couldn't exactly make him a sandwich at the shop, so I ordered one from the café across the street."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, when I call to place the order, I tell Jason – "
"Ohhhhh." Tessa's expression cleared."ThatJason. He makes a mean turkey melt."
No kidding. My mouth watered at the thought. "Yeah, tell me about it. Anyway, I tell Jason that some guy's gonna be coming in with my credit card and to let him use it. But just as I'm giving the order, Griff says he's not using my card."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. But he was really stubborn about it." I straightened in my chair. "But so was I. I tell him flat-out – and I quote – 'It's the least I can do since you're working for free.'"
Tessa winced. "Well, I guess that explains it."
"I guess," I muttered. "I'll need to be more careful."
"So…?" Tessa said, as if fishing for more. "Did he like the sandwich?"
"Actually…" I grimaced at the memory. "I don't think so."
She looked surprised. "Why not?"
"Well, he hadmepick, saying that I'm a local and would know what's best, so of course, I pick my favorite."
"The turkey melt."
I nodded. "Right. And you know how it is, all cheesy and delicious with tomatoes and dried cranberries."
"Yeah?"
"Well, I swear to God, he takes one bite, stops, swallows it hard, and then he opens the sandwich right there in the back room."
"And?"
"And he goes through and picks off every single cranberry, like he's allergic or something."
"Is he? Did you ask?"
"Sure," I said. "But allhesaid was that he's eaten enough dried fruit to last a lifetime."
At this, Tessa sucked in a breath. "Oh, my God."
I frowned in confusion. "What?"
"The duffel," she said.
"What duffel?"
"You mentioned that he was carrying a duffel yesterday, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Was it big and black?"
In my mind, I could still see it. "Yeah, but that's a pretty common bag. Why do you ask?"
She practically groaned. "I think I met him."
