My pulse kicked up a notch. "Really? When?"
"Yesterday morning. He was with this other guy – hot but incredibly annoying…" She cringed. "And…well…I did something I shouldn't have."
Nowthatsounded interesting. "Really? What?"
She held up a hand, palm out. "Okay, before I tell you, just let me say, the coffee shop wasreallybusy, and I was working there all by myself because Ted was on break…"
I leaned forward. "Yeah?"
"And, these two guys come in – and I can tell they think they're hot stuff – especially the blond one – "
"So not Griff? I mean, his hair is brown, so…"
"Right. Anyway, they're going back and forth like I've got nothing better to do, and there's this huge line, and they wantmeto pick their pastries – a whole dozen – which I'm happy todo, but something about that blond guy made me a little nuts, so when they specify no raisins…"
"Oh, no." I didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "You gave them raisins? In everything?"
At this, she looked nearly insulted. "No. Of course not."
I searched her face for clues. "So…what am I missing?"
She chewed on her lower lip. "I, um, gave them cranberries, actually."
Talk about devious."Seriously?"
She looked pained at the memory. "Yeah, lots of them. And then, the blond guy tips me ahundreddollars. And it makes me feel soooo guilty, and I almost refuse to accept it, but then I think, 'well…why give the money back tohimwhen I could…'"
She never did finish the sentence, but I knew exactly where she'd been going, so I finished it for her. "…when you could give it to me. For rent."
She reached up to scratch her flour-covered cheek. "Uh, yeah. Something like that."
Now, I didn't knowwhatto think. Even the thing with Tessa made no sense. During the last day or so, I'd come to suspect that her finances were nearly as bad as mine.But why?Her parents had money, loads of it. And she'd been impressively successful on her own – at least the way Delaney always talked.
Then again, I'd been out of the loop for nearly a year. When I'd asked Tessa what she'd been up to, she'd been incredibly vague and changed the subject. She'd been so obvious about it – almost to the point of rudeness – that I didn't dare pry, even now.
But I sorely wanted to.
And what about Griff?What washisstory? If he hung with hundred-dollar tippers, why was he claiming to be broke?
As my grandma used to say, birds of a feather flocked together, and it seemed beyond unlikely that a mega-tipperwould be hanging out with someone so desperate they'd work for food.
But of course, I'd been suspicious of Griff's story from the start.Surely, he couldn't be that hard up?
Suddenly, I wasn't sure if I'd hired a mechanic, a millionaire, or a man on the run. I felt my eyebrows furrow.What if he was all three?
A millionaire mechanic hitman?
No. Definitely not.
Oh, screw it."You know what?"
Tessa gave a little jump, as if she'd been deep in thought. "What?"
I glanced toward stairs. "I think Iwilltake that second bottle."
She let out a groan. "Thank God."
"Why?"
