Megan reluctantly took the card. "Okay, but I don't know how long I'll be in town."
"I get that. These days, my plans tend to be minute by minute."
"Megan!" The sharp male voice brought them both to their feet. "Why the hell did you run off like that?" Griffin asked. Then his gaze moved from Megan to her, and his blue eyes glittered in the sunlight. "You! What are you doing here?"
She swallowed hard, caught off guard by the anger in his gaze. "I was walking through the fair and I saw Megan."
"And you decided to introduce yourself."
"As a matter of fact, I did," she said evenly, not intimidated by his gruff words. She had three older brothers. She could hold her own.
"Megan, let's go," he said.
She instinctively put a hand on Megan's arm, drawing the woman's gaze to hers. "If you don't want to go with him, you don't have to."
"What are you saying?" Griffin asked. "You have no idea what you're getting into the middle of, Annie."
"I know you're pissed off, and Megan is upset. I'm not going to let you hurt her."
"I'm not trying to hurt her; I'm trying to protect her."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't explain, but that's the truth. Ask her," he said, tipping his head to Megan.
"He's right, Annie," Megan said. "Thanks for your help, but I need to go with Griffin." She slipped out from under Annie's grip.
"I'm parked at the corner. Meet me at the car," he said, pointing to the dark-gray SUV.
Megan hesitated. "Thanks, Annie. You're a nice person."
"I think you are, too."
As Megan left, Griffin shot her a dark look. "You need to mind your own business."
"Well, that's not going to happen any time soon," she snapped. "I don't know what's going on, but if you hurt Megan, I will hunt you down."
"You don't even know her," he said in amazement. "Now you're her defender?"
"I know she's in trouble. I just don't know if you're the trouble."
"I'm not. I'm trying to help her. She told you that."
"Well, you don't seem to be doing a very good job. She was crying her eyes out a second ago."
"That's not because of me."
She gave him a speculative look. "Who is Megan to you, Griffin? Why did that man bring her to your bar? Why are you watching out for her? What's going on?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "That's a lot of questions."
"I'm just getting started."
"I agreed to look out for Megan and to give her a place to stay for a while."
"That sounds like a simple answer for a complicated situation."
"What do you think is going on?" he challenged.
"I have no idea, but I'd really like to know. Megan seems sweet. I'm not so sure about you," she said with a frown.
"Hey, I saved your life, remember? I'm the good guy here."
"You were good to me on Friday. Since then you've been an ass."
His jaw dropped. "Maybe I should have let you fend for yourself with the sharks. You probably would have taken a bite out of one of them."
As he planted his hands on his hips and glared at her, she could feel the air sizzling between them. There was a lot of anger and irritation…and something else. She hadn't felt this riled up by a man in a long time. She told herself it was because she really didn't like him. But she'd never been a good liar.
"I'm a little braver on land," she said. "And I am glad you didn't leave me to the sharks. You did save me, and maybe I want to pay it forward."
"With Megan? She doesn't need you to save her."
"Because you're going to do that? Who are you going to save her from, Griffin?"
"It's really not your business."
"It wasn't your business to save me, but that's what heroes do."
"So, now you're a hero?" he asked.
"I did make her stop crying. Look, I have no idea what's going on, but I do know this. That woman is in desperate need of a friend, so you better get rid of that scowl of yours. It might be sexy, but it's not comforting. And if you're supposed to be taking care of her and making her feel safe, you're going to need to smile once in a while."
His scowl deepened. "I'm leaving now."
"I'll see you around, Griffin."
He paused. "I have the right to refuse service to anyone who steps into my bar. You might want to remember that."
"But if you did that, you wouldn't be the good guy you just said you were," she retorted.
His jaw tightened, and it looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he just turned and walked away.
She blew out a breath, feeling worked up by their conversation, and even more determined to find out what was going on with Griffin and Megan.
Five
Griffin punched the start button on his car with a little more force than necessary, and it still did nothing to ease his desire to put his fist through a wall. First Megan had taken off on him when he wasn't looking. Then Annie Callaway had lit into him, like he was some kind of a bad guy. If he had been a bad guy, she'd been stupid as hell to say it to his face.
What the hell was wrong with her—sticking her nose in someone else's business? She had no idea what she could be getting herself tangled up in.
He pulled out of his parking spot and sped around the corner, a mix of emotions running through him. He was pissed off and annoyed at Annie's interference, but he had to admit that he also admired her desire to fight for someone she didn't even know.
He needed her to stay out of this, but he didn't think that was going to happen. If she came to the bar, he could kick her out, but would he? He slammed to a stop as the light turned red in front of him.
Megan put a hand on the dashboard to brace herself.
"Sorry," he muttered, glancing over at her. "Why did you run off? I thought bringing you to the fair would be fun, give you a chance to get some air, but as soon as I turn my back, you're gone."
"I know. I just felt overwhelmed and I had to be by myself."
"If you had to be by yourself, why were you talking to Annie?"
"I was crying. She came over to check on me."
At least Megan's story matched Annie's explanation. "Why were you crying?"
"Because I'm…I'm a mess," she said helplessly. "I feel like a fish out of water. I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere. I don't know you. I don't know this city. Everything feels wrong."
"You've only been here a day. You have to give it a little time. And it's not forever."
"But that's the thing—I don't know if that's true, if I'll ever be safe, if I'll ever have a life."
"I think you will," he said quietly, hoping that he was speaking the truth.
"But you don't know."
"No, I don't," he said honestly.
He hit the gas as the light turned green, careful not to speed. He didn't think Megan's jangled nerves could take any more stress. "Paul brought you to me because he knew you were coming to the end of your rope, and I understand that. I run a bar where people come and go, and no one questions who they are or how long they'll be there. You can fit in if you want to." He shot her a quick look. She was still pale, but there was a new light in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. "You do have some control over how you feel, Megan."
"Annie said the best way to get control back is to do something, make a change, take action, even if it's just something small."
He frowned. Even though he didn't disagree with Annie's suggestions, he didn't like that she'd felt comfortable enough to give Megan advice. "Annie doesn’t know your situation."
"No, but she wasn't wrong. I can't keep living like this. I can't just wallow in despair. I might as well be dead."
"What do you think would help you, Megan?"
"I don't know. Maybe I could help out in the kitchen, wash dishes or something."
"I think that's a great idea, and I'll pay you for your time."
"But is it safe to be seen—even in the kitchen?"
>
"Paul said you're a long way from home, and only a few people know you're here. I don't even know your real name or where you're from."
"He didn't tell you?"
"No. Paul only tells me what I need to know to keep you safe, and in this case your safety isn't the issue—your sanity is."
Megan let out a sigh. "I do feel a little crazy. Actually, the most normal I've felt in weeks was when I started talking to Annie. She told me I could call her if I need a friend."
"You don't need to call her. You can talk to me," he said, wanting to discourage that idea.
For the first time, a hint of a smile appeared in her eyes. "You?"
"We're talking now, aren't we?"
"I guess, but you're not very approachable."
"I'll work on that."
"I'm sorry I ran out on you."
"I understand. And while I don't believe you're in any danger, I'd still like to keep an eye on you. Can you give me a heads-up if you need to get some air?"
She nodded. "I can do that."
"Thanks."
She gave him a curious look. "Did you really save Annie from some sharks?"
He sighed. "Yeah, and apparently no good deed goes unpunished."
Megan's laugh surprised the hell out of him. He gave her a quick glance. "What?"
"You like her."
"No. What I feel for her is about as far from like as you can get."
Megan didn't contradict him, but the voice in his head told him he was a fool for thinking anyone would believe that, including himself.
* * *
Annie spent the rest of Sunday and most of Monday telling herself to stay away from the Depot, leave Griffin and Megan alone, concentrate on herself, her teaching gig, and the new ideas that were nudging at her imagination but not quite fully springing to life. But when Justin asked her to go to the Depot with him after class, because he had something important he wanted to talk to her about, she surprised even herself with a very quick yes.
It was probably completely inappropriate. She shouldn't be having a drink with one of her students. She shouldn't be going to a bar, whose owner had clearly told her she was not welcome.
On the other hand, being at the Depot had helped her get through her creative block, and since the people there were inspiring her new work, she wouldn't mind getting another look at everyone.
And then there was Megan. It couldn't hurt to check up on her, too.
She arrived at the Depot at half-past five. The bar was hopping, with happy hour in full swing. There was no sign of Griffin, and the butterflies in her stomach danced around in both flutters of relief and disappointment. She told herself it was good he wasn't there; she didn't need another altercation like the one they'd had yesterday.
"Let's grab this table," Justin said, motioning her toward a small table for two. "I don't start my shift until six, so I have a few minutes."
"I'm very curious as to what you want to speak to me about that we couldn't discuss in the classroom."
"We'll get into that. But first, I'll get you a drink. What would you like?"
"I'll take a Chardonnay."
"You got it."
She settled into her seat while Justin went around the bar. He took a moment to greet an older, busty blonde, wearing a clingy blue top and black jeans. She appeared to be in her early forties, and had a brassy, loud laugh. Another character for her sketch pad, she couldn't help thinking. That woman probably had a story. She wondered what it was.
In fact, everyone, with the exception of Justin, seemed to have a story, something behind their smiles and the shadows in their eyes. Only Justin appeared happy, carefree, chill… But was he really? Or was normalcy his disguise?
She smiled at her wayward thoughts. At one time, she'd thought of becoming a writer, but for her, the story usually came out in art, not in words, and now she was starting to think of Justin as a surfer assassin or a surfer detective or a surfer villain…
He could really be anything except what he probably was, a twenty-something guy with ambitions to surf and draw and live a nice life.
Justin came back with her glass of wine and took the seat across from her. "Here you go."
"Thanks. So, what is this all about? You want some help on your final project? Because I can give you a few tips, but that's really all."
"I appreciate that, and I might take you up on those tips. But I need a favor, and it doesn't have to do with class."
She was actually relieved to hear that. "What does it have to do with?" she asked, sipping her wine.
"The Depot is hosting a fundraiser holiday party here in two weeks. It's for Griffin's favorite charity, Hamilton House."
"I've never heard of that."
"It's a recreation center for kids and teens—mostly foster kids or children who are living in shelters. They depend on donations, and every year Griffin hosts a party here to gather toys and checks."
"That sounds very generous."
"Griffin is a generous guy. But for this event to be really successful, it needs more publicity, like flyers and T-shirts. I thought I could come up with a design, since I started taking your class, but everything I've come up with is really bad. I told Griffin I would take care of the design and the materials, but I'm running out of time, and I've got nothing. I don't want to let Griffin down. But now it's probably too late to get another artist to work on what we need done by like Thursday."
"Thursday, huh? That's fast."
"I know and there's also no budget for an artist."
"I have a feeling I know where you're going with this."
He gave her a charming smile. "I thought you might want to help out since Griffin saved your life."
She smiled back at him, thinking he did have an innocent kind of guile, something she could play up in her superhero idea. "Pulling out all the stops, are you?"
"Kind of desperate here. What do you say? Do you have a little spare time to work up a design?"
"I could probably help you, but I'm not sure your boss would like it. I'm not Griffin's favorite person."
"You're not?" Justin asked in surprise. "Why not?"
She thought about that. "I'm not sure, but I think I make him uncomfortable."
"Oh, right, because he saved your life and you keep wanting to thank him," Justin said, with a nod. "Griffin hates when people compliment him or show him gratitude. Don't take it personally."
She thought it was more than that, especially after their encounter yesterday, but she wasn't going to tell Justin that.
"And I know Griffin will appreciate your help on this. It is for the kids, after all," Justin added.
She made an impulsive decision she'd probably regret. "Okay. I'll do it. But you're going to have to tell me what Griffin is looking for."
"He doesn't know. He said he wants the design to reflect the bar and the spirit of the holidays and the kids. Does that help?"
"Not really."
"I'm sure whatever you do will be great. The event is a week from next Sunday. It's at three in the afternoon. There will be a toy drive, music, presents, food, Santa, that kind of thing."
"I'll do some thinking. I might have more questions."
"Feel free to ask away. And as a thank-you, I'm going to buy you dinner."
"You don't have to buy me dinner, Justin."
"It's the least I can do. The special tonight is Vinnie's chicken tortilla soup. It's amazing. But if you want something else, that's fine, too."
"I'll take the soup."
"I'll put your order in."
As Justin left, Megan came into the bar from the back hall. She hesitated for a moment, looking a bit panicked by the number of people in the bar. Her gaze darted around the room, but when she saw Annie, the tension in her face eased, and she made her way over to the table.
"You're back," Megan said. "I wasn't sure you would be."
"I wasn't sure I would be, either, but I'm friends with Justin, the bartender, and he wanted to talk to me about s
omething."
"I haven't met him yet."
"He's the cute blond. I'm sure you'll like him." She paused. "You look better today."
Dressed in baggy jeans and a loose-fitting top, Megan still had a waifish look, but she had put on some lip gloss, and her eyes seemed brighter, energized, making her appear more youthful than she had the day before.
"I feel better," Megan said. "I took your advice. You said the best way to change your mood is to take some sort of action. I decided that I might as well be productive while I'm here. Griffin told me he could use help in the kitchen and in the bar, so I'm going to do what I can—for a few days anyway."
She couldn't help wondering what was coming up in a few days, but Megan was talking more than she had the day before, and she didn't want to shut her down with too many questions.
"I'm not sure I'll be good at it," Megan added. "I've never worked in a bar."
"You'll be fine. If you wait tables, I can tell you that a bigger smile will get you bigger tips, but don't take crap from anyone, especially guys with too many drinks in them."
"You've had experience?"
"I waited tables in college and a little bit after that. Tips can be good."
"I don't even know if I can smile anymore, but I'll give it a shot."
"You can do it. Just think about something or someone that makes you happy."
Her words had the opposite effect than she'd intended, and she frowned as she saw dark shadows pass through Megan's eyes. "I wish I could help," she said impulsively. "Don't you have any family you can ask for support?"
"No," Megan said shortly, following up with a firm shake of her head.
"Well, you have my number if you ever want to talk."
"I better get to work." As Megan got up, she almost ran into Justin, who had a tray in his hands with one large bowl of soup. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't see you."
"No worries. I'm a good dancer," Justin said with a smile. "Didn't even spill a drop." He set the soup down on the table, then added, "I don't think we've met. I'm Justin."
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