"She's my teacher," Justin said with a grin. "Introduction to Animation at the community college."
"It's nice to see you, Justin," Annie said. "I didn't know you worked here."
"And I didn't know you almost got attacked by a shark yesterday." Justin's gaze swung from Annie to him. "And you saved her life. Did I not just ask you what was new? And you said, 'not much.'"
"How did you hear about yesterday?" he asked.
"There's a photo online," Justin said. "Cameron just showed it to me."
"What photo?" His gaze swung to Annie. "Do you know something about a photo?"
"I saw it online, too. Someone snapped a picture of us when we got to the beach."
He pulled out his phone. "Where's the photo?"
"Just put in shark attack, San Clemente," Justin advised, moving away to serve more drinks.
He pulled up the photo and inwardly swore. He'd made a point of never having his picture taken, but yesterday he'd gotten careless. "Do you know who took this?" he asked. "Was it one of your friends?"
"No, I didn't know anyone on the beach yesterday. Why are you so bothered by it? It's not a big deal."
His pulse was racing, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. She was right. A photo wasn't that big of a deal—not anymore. And it wasn't like he was named in the article. In fact, his image wasn't even that clear.
"It's fine," he murmured, putting his phone back into his pocket.
"I wouldn't say fine; I look like a drowned rat. You came across as the hero of the day, so if anyone should be bothered by the picture, it's probably me."
"I'm not bothered."
"You could have fooled me."
"Excuse me," he said, moving back around the bar as Paul entered the room with a young woman. She wore jeans and a tank top and was very thin, with long brown hair and thick-framed glasses that didn't hide the fear or the uncertainty in her eyes.
"This is Megan," Paul said. "My friend, Griffin Hale. He'll hook you up. I'll check in with you tomorrow."
Megan looked terrified, clutching to the over-sized tote bag that she held in front of her like a shield. He didn't want to be dealing with her tonight, but it didn't appear that he had a choice.
He gave Paul a nod, and then turned to Megan. "It's going to be fine."
"I don't want to be here," she said.
"It's a good place for you. Come on, I'll show you where you can put your bag," he added, aware that Annie Callaway was watching them both with very curious eyes.
As he took Megan up the back stairs, he was reminded of his earlier foreboding that trouble was coming. He just didn't know if the danger was connected to Megan or to Annie.
Three
Annie sipped her drink as Griffin Hale disappeared into a shadowy hallway with a woman who seemed to be a little afraid of him. Their brief exchange with another man had been filled with tension. The woman clearly didn't want to be in the bar, but Griffin had told her she was where she needed to be. What on earth did that mean?
She'd always had a big imagination and a lot of curiosity, which had been helpful in her career as an artist and an animator. In fact, it was one of the reasons why she'd moved out of advertising and into storytelling with her art. She thought it would be better to make money off her imagination than just worry herself with worst-case scenarios in her everyday life. Griffin Hale had definitely rung the bell high on her curiosity meter. Not just because of the woman he'd escorted into the back hallway, but because of the way he'd reacted to seeing the photo of them online. He'd also been less than friendly when she'd tried to thank him.
Why? Was he just a reluctant hero? Someone who had acted on impulse and now didn't care for the publicity?
Another dozen questions ran through her head as she worked her way slowly through her drink. Griffin probably expected her to be gone by the time he came back, but she was in no hurry to leave. She had nowhere pressing to be, and she was curious to see if Griffin would come back alone or if the woman would be with him.
"Can I get you another drink, Ms. Callaway?" Justin asked with a friendly smile.
"You can—a vodka tonic," she said. And outside of the classroom, you can call me Annie. I'm like five years older than you."
He grinned. "Sounds like a good plan. I must admit you're one of the youngest teachers I've ever had."
"I hope you're not missing Mrs. Barker too much," she said, referring to the woman she'd replaced.
"Not at all. She only taught the first few classes, and it was easy to see she wasn't really up for it. Plus, you have more experience in Hollywood, which I like. I'm hoping to do something in the film industry."
"There are definitely a lot of different avenues you can take," she said carefully, not wanting to crush anyone's dreams even though there was a whole lot of negative she could say about Hollywood.
As Justin took her empty glass away and served her another vodka tonic, he said, "So how close were you to the sharks yesterday?"
"Really close. I felt one brush my leg. I have never been so terrified."
"No way. I've been surfing since I was six, and I've never seen a shark."
"Must have been my unlucky day."
"What did you do?"
"I froze. I was actually completely unaware of the sharks until Griffin started yelling at me and paddled in my direction. He got to me just in time. He pulled me onto his board and took us to the beach. I had no idea sharks would come that close to shore."
"They seem to get closer every year, but most of them won't hurt you."
"I didn't want to stick around long enough to find out." She sipped her drink, then said, "Did you meet Griffin when you were surfing?"
"I did. He's not the friendliest dude, but the old man is damn good on the waves."
"Old man?" she echoed. "What is he—thirty-three, thirty-four?"
Justin laughed. "Something like that. Anyway, he's a good guy. He gave me a job when I needed it. He looks out for people, but don't tell him I said that. He doesn't like that to get around."
Now she was even more curious about the man. "Did you see the woman he took in the back a few minutes ago?"
"Nope. Why?"
"Just wondered. She seemed kind of scared."
"Of Griffin?" he asked doubtfully.
"Maybe not of Griffin, but something."
"Well, she's probably just someone else who needs Griffin's help. They come around here off and on. You want something to eat? Vinnie cooks up a mean cheeseburger. He has a special sauce he puts on it that gives it a little kick."
Her stomach rumbled at the thought. "That sounds good."
"Fries?"
"Absolutely."
As Justin put her food order in, she glanced around the bar, enjoying the atmosphere. She particularly liked the old train station details. Someone had definitely put some thought into the décor. Was that Griffin? He didn't seem like the type. On the other hand, she really didn't know anything about him.
As she considered that thought, Griffin came back into the room alone. His lips drew into a tight line when his gaze met hers.
"You're still here," he muttered.
"Justin said your cook makes a mean burger. I just ordered one. Everything okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" he challenged.
She licked her lips, realizing her nosy questions were not going to make her more welcome at the bar. "Just wondering. The woman you were with seemed in some sort of distress."
"She's fine. Don't worry about her." Griffin paused as a big man came out of the kitchen and put a burger down in front of her.
The man looked more like a football player than a cook or a waiter, but the burger he delivered was amazing. Topped with lettuce, tomato, onions, and some sort of sauce, the juicy quarter pounder made her mouth water.
"Enjoy," the man told her, then tipped his head to Griffin. "Another one? I thought we were done."
Griffin frowned and shot her a quick look, then pulled the man into the kitchen, leavi
ng her with even more questions.
As she ate her burger, her mind swirled with possibilities. When Griffin returned, he moved down the bar, switching places with Justin.
She couldn't help wondering if he was deliberately avoiding her. It had been awhile since a man had treated her so dismissively, but for some reason she didn't think it was completely personal. There was something else going on in the bar tonight, and it had to do with the woman Griffin had taken into the back hallway. She wondered what was back there. An office? Restrooms? Living space?
After finishing her burger and her second drink, she decided it was time to find out. There was a band setting up on the stage and the bar was getting more crowded by the minute. Both Justin and Griffin were slammed by orders and two additional waitresses had come on board to help out, but they were also kept very busy. The Depot was definitely the place to be on a Saturday night. She doubted she'd have any further conversation with Griffin tonight.
Sliding off her seat, she moved through the nearby doorway. To her left, she could see a closed door labeled Office and another marked Storage. To her right were the restrooms, a doorway leading into the kitchen, and at the end of the hall was a stairway leading up to a second floor and a door labeled Employees Only.
She had a feeling that Griffin had taken the woman up those stairs. She moved down the hallway, peering up the stairway but unable to see or hear anything out of the ordinary, and she wasn't ready to make her way up the steps. She was already being way too nosy. She obviously had too much time on her hands these days.
"Looking for something?" Griffin asked.
She swung around at the sound of his sharp voice, hoping the guilty feeling running through her body didn't show in her expression. "The restroom."
"You just passed it."
"Right," she said, heading back down the hall.
Griffin stepped in front of her. "What are you really doing here?"
She was confused by his question and the suspicious look in his eyes. "I don't know what you mean."
"You didn’t just come here to say thank-you, so what's going on?"
"That is why I came," she said.
He folded his arms across his chest, unconvinced by her words.
"Okay, I'll admit that since you took that woman upstairs, I've been a little curious about her. She didn't seem like she knew you or that she wanted to go with you."
"I told you before she's fine. She's upset about something and she came here to get away from her problems."
"Then why did she tell you she didn't want to be here? Why did that man seem to be handing her off to you?"
"You do know this is none of your business, right?"
"When I see someone who might be in trouble, I make it my business. Seems like you do the same thing. You saved me yesterday when you saw a shark circling my way. Maybe I feel the same way about her."
"And you think I'm the shark putting her in danger?" he challenged.
"Are you?" she asked, knowing she was playing with fire, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.
He gave her a long, hard look that sent a chill down her spine. Yesterday he'd been her savior. Today—she wasn't sure who he was.
"No," he said flatly. "I'm not a danger to the woman who went upstairs. But that's all I'm going to say about it out of respect for her privacy, and I'd ask you to leave it alone."
"If you were a danger, I doubt you'd tell me," she muttered.
"If I were a danger, then you should consider whether you want to put yourself in the middle of this."
They exchanged another long, measuring look. She didn't know what he could read in her eyes, but his gaze was completely indecipherable. The only thing she knew for sure was that this conversation was going nowhere.
"I'm going to go," she said.
"Best idea you've had yet." He stepped aside. "After you."
She walked past him and reentered the bar. The noise level had gone up with another influx of people. Despite the crowd, she could feel Griffin's eyes on her as she made her way to the front door.
He didn't trust her. That was fine. She didn't trust him, either.
He might not want to see her back in the bar again, but that didn't mean she was going to stay away. She needed to think about that…
* * *
After Annie left, Griffin went upstairs to check on Megan. The door was locked as he'd expected. He gave a three-tap knock, announced he was coming inside, and then used one key for the dead bolt and another for the main lock.
Megan sat on the couch, a knitted blanket wrapped around her thin shoulders, her gaze on a television screen that was playing some sit-com with a lot of canned laughter. He doubted she was watching the show; there was a distant gaze in her eyes, a shut-down expression that he'd seen more than a few times in his life, sometimes in his own mirror.
"Everything okay?" he asked her, perching on the edge of a nearby armchair.
She shrugged and didn't bother to look at him.
"No one came up here, did they?"
At his question, her gaze swung to his, and her wary, fearful look returned. "No. You said no one would come up here."
"And that's true," he said quickly. "I was just double-checking. Did you look at the menu I left you? What would you like from the kitchen?"
"I'm not hungry." Her gaze moved back to the television.
He got up and walked around in front of her, blocking her view. "Okay, here's the deal, Megan. You're going to be here at least a week. You need to eat. To drink. To sleep. You can do all of that, can't you?"
She drew in a breath and let it out. "Do you know who I am, why I'm here?"
"I don't need to know, and you don’t need to tell me."
"The agent said that you've done this before."
"I have," he admitted.
"I feel…lost," she whispered.
He could feel her pain in a way she probably couldn't imagine. "You're not lost. You're just taking a time-out from your life. You'll get it back. You'll be who you used to be."
"Will I? It doesn't seem possible."
"It's possible, but none of that happens if you don't go along with the plan. I realize you don't know me, but you're going to have to find a way to trust me."
"Trusting you—a stranger—seems as dumb as anything I've done so far."
"Paul Daniels trusts me. He wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't. He said you've been having a difficult time."
"That's an understatement."
"I can't change what's happening in your life, but I can make the next few days easier for you. It's up to you. I'll bring you up some food, or if you feel up to it, you can come down to the bar."
"How can I be around all those people? I've been in hiding for months."
"Because you can," he said simply. "No one knows who you are, and no one will. Paul brought you here so you could feel normal again."
"Normal? That's not going to happen." She paused. "Who else lives here?"
"I have the apartment down the hall. Only you and I have keys to this place."
"I want your keys," she said.
He hesitated, then took the two keys off his ring and handed them to her. "Here you go."
She took the keys and gave him another suspicious look. "Are these the only ones?"
"Yes," he lied. "So, what's it going to be? Room service or you come downstairs?"
"I don't want to go anywhere."
"Then I'll bring you a burger, unless you don't eat meat?"
"I eat meat," she mumbled.
"Great. The kitchen is busy, so it will be about thirty minutes."
Getting a shrug in response, he headed to the door. "When I come back, I'll knock three times. You can check the peephole to make sure it's me."
After pulling the door shut, he waited until he heard her shove the dead bolt home, then he returned downstairs. He stopped in the kitchen on his way back to the bar and asked Vinnie to make a plate for upstairs.
His partner gave
him a look that said he did not want to be a part of this, but the kitchen was too busy for Vinnie to waste time complaining. He did, however, deliver one parting shot.
"You sure you know what you're doing?" Vinnie asked.
There had been a time in his life when he'd been sure about everything, but that was a different lifetime. "Not really, but it is what it is."
As Vinnie turned his attention back to his grill, he returned to the bar, relieved that the pretty and incredibly nosy Annie Callaway was gone. He wanted to believe she had truly just come by to thank him for saving her life, but her actions after that had been very suspicious. She'd been heading upstairs when he'd caught her, and that could have been disastrous.
He definitely needed to be more careful about his encounters with Paul when there were other people in the bar. He'd certainly never considered that someone might think he was a dangerous man out to hurt an innocent woman. Hopefully, he had alleviated Annie's concerns, but he had doubts about that. There really wasn't any reason for them to see each other again, but somehow, he didn't think that was the way it was going to go down.
Four
Sunday afternoon, Annie was still thinking about Griffin Hale, and her previous bout of artist's block had completely disappeared.
In fact, she'd spent half the night and all morning at her dining room table working on sketches of not only Griffin, but the Depot, and some of the other people she'd seen there—the outgoing and friendly Justin, who had a boy-next-door look about him; the stocky man in the kitchen, whose hands seemed too big and too rough to plate such delicious food; the raven-haired waitress with the gothic look about her, who sneaked a peek at her phone every time she had a few extra seconds to spare; and the waifish woman with the big glasses and the terrified eyes who'd been called Megan.
They'd all captured her imagination. She didn't know where her sketches were going yet, but she felt like she was on the verge of an idea, something exciting, something different, maybe something that could kick-start her career…
But as she glanced at her watch, and realized it was almost noon, she knew that her drawing time was about to end. She was going to have to put her creative ideas on hold. She'd gotten a text that morning from her younger sister, Mia. Apparently, the twins—Mia and Kate—did not believe she was fine, no matter how many times she told them she was, so Mia and her husband Jeremy had decided to take a day trip to San Clemente from their home in Angel's Bay, which was about three hours north.
Cant Let Go GO PL Page 3