Chapter Two

Griff thought fast, thought again about the sneaky plan that had come to him at about two o’clock that morning while watching Selena trying to reason with the world’s most impossible client about why going clubbing right that minute was a horrible idea. Diana Keeler had been drunk out of her dyed-blonde head – yet again – and when she was drunk, she was even more irascible than usual… and that was really saying something.

Selena had finally managed to coax Diana back inside the house with the promise of making her nachos with melted cheese and some of Selena’s own, homemade guacamole. Diana starved herself during the day, naturally, and talked a lot about having to look good for her next movie role, but what Griff and Selena knew full well was that the woman binged at night. She drank, then she ate, then she passed out. It was the established pattern now, and it was worrying.

As Griff had watched Selena cut up the avocado and sprinkle in some salt and squeeze in some lemon juice, he’d remembered his good friend, the one who made the best Mexican food that Griff had ever tasted. Griff had promised to drop by and see him soon, but hadn’t done so yet.

Well, ‘now’ is ‘soon’, right?

“Yeah, OK,” he said. “But before I take you back to the office, can we make a quick stop?”

“Sure,” she said. “Where?”

“I need to see a guy I know,” Griff said. “He doesn’t work too far from here, so it’s on the way back to Solid Security.”

“Yeah, OK.” Selena turned back to the window. “No problem.”

Griff drove the rest of the way in silence, hoping that his little scheme would work. After all, if anyone could get Selena to sit down and eat, Griff would bet on Luke Rhodes. Hell, the man might even get her to open up a bit: he was a born charmer and despite his rough edges, he was fucking devastating with the ladies. Griff privately thought that Rhodes could sweet-talk the panties off a nun, if he set his mind to it. And if he and Selena were into each other? Hell, Griff could see Luke asking her out, quite probably on the damn spot.

They pulled up to the bar and Selena roused herself enough to look around. She blinked again.

“Dangerous Curves?” she said. “What the hell are we doing here?”

Griff opened his door. “Luke works here.”

“As what?”

“He works behind the bar, and he also cooks.”

“Oh.” She looked at the bar again as two large men in jean jackets and cowboy boots stumbled out and into a waiting taxi. “OK, so, go on. I’ll wait here.”

“Hey,” Griff said, as though it had just occurred to him. “You know what? Luke makes the best damn chilaquiles that I’ve ever had.”

She gave him a hard, flat, knowing look. “Is that so?”

“It is so.” Griff climbed out, turned to her with a grin. “I’m buying.”

“Griff…”

“C’mon, Selena. Just half an hour, OK? I need to see Luke anyway, and we need to eat after surviving the night with that woman. You gotta be hungry.”

“I’m not,” she said just before her stomach gave a massive growl.

Griff laughed. “You were saying?”

“OK, OK, fine.” She got out of the SUV, slammed her door, lifted her collar against the late-September chill. “Thirty minutes, Griff, and that’s it.”

“And you eat.”

Selena gave him a tiny, tight grimace, and he rejoiced to see it. Yeah, it was a far cry from her usual beautiful, shining smile, but he’d take it. For now.

“If Luke’s Mexican breakfast is any good,” she said. “I’ll eat your food budget for the rest of the week.”

“Good damn thing Curves takes plastic, then,” Griff said. “‘Cause believe me, I’m gonna have to roll you out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”