Lydia took her arm and pulled her away from their dad. “It’s all my fault, she whispered, walking Autumn over to the side of the pier. “Well, it’s Dad’s fault really, for bringing Josh. He’s such an asshole. I never knew what you saw in him.”
“Did Josh say something to Griff?” Autumn felt her stomach churn.
“He was just being his usual self. Making things ten times worse than they already were.” She took a deep breath. “He told Griff you only bought the pier because you were drunk. That it had been a mistake.”
“How did he know that?” Autumn felt her breath catch in her throat.
Lydia bit her lip. “I told Dad, who must have told him. I’m so sorry, I should never have said anything. But Dad’s always talking about you as if you’re some kind of perfect daughter. I wanted him to know you’re human, but you’re also perfectly able to manage your own problems.” She sighed. “I know I’ve made things ten times worse.”
Autumn squeezed her eyes shut. “All right,” she said softly. “So that little sordid secret’s out. It’s okay, isn’t it? What else did Josh say?”
“Nothing. But Griff left looking pissed. That’s wh
en Dad asked Josh to take the buyer on a tour of the pier.”
“He looked pissed? Why? Because I actually do stupid things when I’m drunk?” She didn’t understand. Not at all. Why was it even an issue?
“I don’t know. I asked him to wait for you.” Lydia’s voice was small. “I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I should think before I speak.”
“No, you shouldn’t. I like you the way you are, loose lips and all.” Autumn hugged her. She’d fallen out with enough people already, there was no way she was going to let this come between her and Lydia.
“Thank you,” Lydia mumbled into her shoulder. “Now go and find Griff. The two of you have some talking to do.
27
It took almost thirty minutes to make her way down the pier, thanks to all the people who wanted to talk to her about the charity day, and a few snafus that required her attention. With every minute that passed, Autumn felt her anxiety increase, especially when Griff didn’t return the messages she quickly tapped out on her phone.
Was he really that angry about her getting drunk?
She weaved through the crowd, her head turning from side to side as she sought him out. It was infuriating – he should be easy to spot, but she couldn’t see him anywhere.
Then her gaze landed on his boat. The gangplank was down. She tried to remember if it had been that way earlier. Taking a deep breath, she walked onboard, feeling the gentle bob of the anchored boat as the waves lapped against it.
“Griff?” she called out, feeling a strange shiver snake down her spine. “Are you here?”
She was about to turn back when she heard a sound coming from the front of the boat. She walked past the cabin, and the ladder that led to the wheelroom. Her eyes landing on him sitting on a bench, a glass full of something amber held to his lips as he looked out to shore.
She could see the outline of his muscles through his thin t-shirt. Was it only this morning she was running her hands all over them?
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said softly.
He stood as soon as he heard her, the glass still in one hand. There was a blankness in his eyes. “I’ve been right here.” He lifted up a bottle that was resting on the bench beside him. “Did you know this whiskey’s been here since my dad ran the boat? He must have forgotten to take it with him when he left.” He shook his head. “About the only thing he’s ever given me. I kept meaning to throw it out, but maybe I knew it’d come in handy.” His words were slurred. Enough for her to know it wasn’t the first glass he was drinking.
“Can we talk about what just happened back there?” she asked. “Maybe go to my office?”
“Why? You want to sell me a pier?” The roughness of his voice sent shivers down her spine.
“No. I want to explain.”
He looked down at his glass. “There’s nothing to explain. If you want to sell the pier, that’s fine. It’s what you intended to do all along.” He lifted the whiskey to his lips and tipped his head back, emptying the glass before pouring himself another.
“Can you slow down?” she asked, shaking her head as he swallowed another mouthful. “This is supposed to be a happy day.”
“I’m just trying to see how it feels. How drunk do you have to get to buy a pier?” He shrugged, that steely glint still in his gaze. “Two drinks? Three? Five? How many until I become somebody completely different for a few weeks.”
“You’re making an idiot of yourself,” she hissed, grabbing his arm. “Can we please talk about this somewhere less open?”
“Why? You want to tell me about your ex? I didn’t know you’d invited him to the charity day.” He gave her a sour smile. “Maybe you should have warned me.”