Pushing off the sofa, I saunter across the room and pick up the rectangular bottle of Jack from the table, pouring myself a small glass. Without it, I am going to feel out of sorts.

I’m sure Griffin has enough of feeling out of place in his own home. I refuse for him to feel that way around me.

Something buzzes behind me and when I turn I see Griffin’s cellphone. I glance back, still hearing the shower run, and then I look at the phone again.

I shouldn’t… I couldn’t… but knowing my nosy ass, I will.

I rush to see what’s on the screen.

A text message from his oh-so-loveable wife, Colette… though the message is far from loveable.

Colette: When you decide to be a man and handle your shit, then we can talk. But until you grow some balls, don’t expect me to make chit-chat with you when you get home.

Ssss… Ouch.

I stretch my lips, making a face. God, I feel so awful for him.

What a bitch!

The shower continues to run and I pace the room in small circles, but I can’t help my glare at his phone. It’s unlocked, no password to protect it. I should help him, spare him from any more agony and heartache.

This woman of his is just straight-up heartless.

He can’t keep getting shut down by her. It’s wrong and she knows it.

So, I do what I know is immoral on my part. I turn on the screen of his phone, surf through his messages, and delete the most recent one from Colette.

Why?

Because Griffin Boyd deserves better. He doesn’t deserve a wife—a woman that is supposed to love him unconditionally—that is only out to see him miserable.

The phone call was enough.

She upsets him. She is hurting him and she doesn’t even realize it... or maybe she does. For a man like Griffin, his ego is high, but not as extreme as what I normally witness in this industry.

It stops here… at least for the night. At least while I’m around. Yeah, I care for Boyd’s well being… and maybe my emotions are dabbling into this as well.

Oh well.

Who cares?

And if you do, try and sue me.

Griffin is out of the shower in no time.

The delivery came while he was getting dressed, so I signed for him and set the food up for us on the table. By the way his eyes lit up, I could tell he was glad to see that it was here.

Like I said, we hadn’t eaten all damn day. I was just as hungry… almost starving really. The Jack didn’t make it any better, and I have to admit that now it is giving me a bit of a swirl.

After we finish dinner, Griffin sighs, dropping his napkin and walking to the bathroom. “Give me a sec,” he says.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice ringing with laughter.

“Just ate Chinese, Clark. Can’t have the stench of it on my breath.” He gives me a wink over the shoulder and I grin, picking up my glass.

“Maybe I should have brought my toothbrush then. I don’t want smelly breath either.”

“I’m sure you’re fine,” he shouts, voice echoing off the bathroom walls.

Standing with a smile still on my lips, I walk towards the balcony and slide the door open. It is still raining, but the sound of the thunder is distant now, as if the storm has barely passed.

I exhale as a cool breeze drifts past me, swirling loose strands of my hair.

While taking a sip of my drink, I hear the buzzing of Griffin’s cellphone again. When I look back, he’s in front of the bed with the end of his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, frowning down at his screen.

God, I hope it isn’t that damn wife of his again.

He hurries back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth out and then he answers the phone. By the way he’s talking, giving updates on business, I’m sure it isn’t her. The call is quick.

“Yes, ma’am. I will make sure to have your invitation sent on time.” He pauses, coming closer to the balcony door. He steps out, looking ahead at the San Diego skyline. “Oh, she is great. She has a salsa competition coming up. She’s getting herself in order for that.” He’s talking about Colette. “She hasn’t called you?” he asks, the olive skin between his eyebrows crinkling. “Oh, well I’m sure she will call you soon. She’s just very… busy these days. Yeah. Okay. You have a good night.”

He hangs up and a sigh pushes past his full lips. I take another small sip of the whiskey, an upward tilt on my lips.

I feel him looking down at me and as he drops his phone into the pocket of his sweat pants, he asks, “What are you smiling about?”

“You’re a busy man,” I laugh.

“Yeah, well…” He shakes his head, lifting a hand to rub his forehead with his fingers. “It’s a part of this whole ‘owning your own business’ thing. You are never not working.”

“I can agree there.” Silence surrounds us.

Griffin points his gaze towards the skyline again. We can hardly make out anything but the lights through the downpour, but it is still nice.

“Beautiful, right?” I ask.

He nods, but doesn’t pull his gaze away. “Serene.” His lips press. “I don’t get many moments like this anymore.”

“I kid you not, the last time I stayed here I sat on the balcony and worked until I had to go the next day. I mean answering phone calls, replying to emails, filing reports and everything. I would have slept out here if the bed wasn’t so damn comfortable.”

He laughs. “I hear that.” Finally pulling his eyes away, he looks down at me. “You know you don’t have to keep me company or worry too much about me, Angelina. I’m fine, really.”

I smirk. “Who says I’m worried?”

He smiles. “I can tell you’re only here because of what you know about my personal life.”

“What are you talking about? I know nothing,” I tease.

One of his cheeks quirks. “Funny,” he responds.

“No, seriously,” I start as I tuck my left arm beneath my right. “I don’t mind. It’s great to have company every once in a while. Good whiskey, cheap food… can’t beat that.”

His lips press, and he struggles with a smile. “You heard?”

“What?”

“The phone call… with Colette.”

I don’t answer right away. I pull my eyes from his, turning straight again. “I heard enough.”

“Hmm.” He tosses a dry laugh. “Just be glad you still have your options.”

“Is being single supposed to be fun now?” I roll my eyes. “Trust me, it gets pretty boring. Lame, if you ask me. It’s just all about finding that right person… a ‘soul mate’ as they say. But until then… well, I just try and enjoy myself whenever I can.”

Silence fills the space between us, but his head is nodding as if he is enjoying every word. But then his head lifts, and his eyes spark a bit as he asks, “Are you enjoying yourself right now?”

I shrug. “I can’t complain.”

He flashes his pearly teeth and says, “Well, I guess I can’t kick you out then, huh? What kind of associate would I be?”

“A terrible one,” I giggle. Oh god… another giggle. I straighten my face again, looking away from him and downing two sips of my whiskey this time.

Griffin walks through the balcony door and goes back to finish his half-glass that’s sitting on the table.

When he returns to the balcony, there is a sheen of sweat on his forehead. I can tell the constant pours of drinks are finally getting to him.

He’s had a few glasses. He’s still in control of himself, but he’s far from sober, I’m sure.

“Scott is very happy about the deal with Quarter,” I say, hoping to avoid awkwardness.

Griffin drops his head and shakes it, sighing. Silky brown hair tumbles to his forehead, making him appear less business-like and more casual.

“What?” I ask.

He’s quiet for a moment. I watch him with a slight frown, his fingers raking through his thick, messy hair. “I don’t want to sound rude, Angelina, but we can we not talk about business right now? Just for right now.” When he looks up, his eyes are desperate, his emotion raw.