“You’ve been in deep cover for three months,” Elliot reminded him. “And it just happened.”
Griffin ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, a habit he’d had since they were kids. “So Davey’s actually settling down. With Rowan Bristow of all people.”
“You got a problem with that?”
“You mean besides the fact that she’s an assassin?” Griffin’s laugh held no humor. “Or that she had a contract for Davey’s head?”
Elliot felt his patience wearing dangerously thin. “She saved his life. Multiple times.”
“After endangering it in the first place.”
“That’s not how it happened, and you know it. They’re good together. In their own weird, slightly terrifying way.”
Griffin snorted. “Yeah, well, at least now I know why Davey’s been walking around with little hearts circling his head.”
Elliot checked his watch. Seven minutes left. “Look, I didn’t call you in here to gossip. Are you in for Antarctica or not?”
Griffin studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. “I’m in. Someone’s got to watch your back when you’re playing house with the younger Bristow.”
“It’s not—” Elliot caught himself. Arguing would only feed Griffin’s mean streak. “The mission brief has all the details. I need you ready to move on short notice.”
“Always am.” Griffin stood, stretching his tall frame. “When do you leave?”
“Three days.” Elliot gathered his tablet and phone, mentally calculating how long it would take to get to Frost’s penthouse. “I’m meeting Rue at Frost’s pre-expedition party tonight. You should come.”
Griffin’s eyebrows shot up. “To a party at Atlas Frost’s? Hard pass. That guy is fucking nightmare fuel.”
“He’s Rue’s benefactor. And our best source of intel on Praetorian’s movements.”
“He’s also the most dangerous man in Manhattan,” Griffin countered. “And he looks at you like he’s calculating the most efficient way to dispose of your body.”
Elliot couldn’t argue with that. Frost had that effect on people. “All the more reason to keep an eye on him.”
“Your funeral.” Griffin moved toward the door, then paused. “You sure you want to take this one, E? After what happened with Brody?—”
“I’m fine,” Elliot cut him off, sharper than he intended. He softened his tone. “Davey’s already hovering like I’m made of glass. Don’t need it from you too.”
“Brody almost killed you a few weeks ago.”
“I remember.”
“He was your best friend.”
Elliot rose from his chair and checked his watch again. Five minutes to get to Frost’s. “And the best way to put that behind me is to do my job.”
Griffin held his gaze for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine. But watch yourself with Frost. And with Rue.”
“Rue’s not the problem.”
“No?” Griffin’s mouth quirked. “Then why are you fidgeting with your tie like you’re heading to prom?”
Elliot’s hands froze, suddenly aware he’d been adjusting his already-perfect tie. He dropped his hands to his sides. “Just making sure I look presentable.”
“For a cover story?” Griffin’s eyebrows arched. “Or for your fake fiancée?”
“For a high-society event at Atlas Frost’s penthouse.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “For a mission with potentially international consequences.”
Griffin’s answering grin was all teeth. “Keep telling yourself that, cuz.”
