“But she’s alone with him anyway.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said through clenched teeth. “I seriously want to rip his head off.”
“Monster Dave,” she muttered, then, “Oh, boy.”
“What?”
“I just Googled Griffin Huntley. There’s a picture of him and Steph in front of a restaurant. He’s got his arms around her, and she kinda looks like she’s hugging him back.”
“Why do you keep telling me this shit?” He paced back and forth. “You know it makes me nuts. Do you want to see me go to jail for homicide?”
“It’s probably an old picture,” she said.
“We just went to the concert.”
“How long ago?”
He glanced at the clock. Time flies when you’re in a panicky state in L.A. traffic. “Two hours.”
“Ah. Nope. Sorry. This is from today.”
Why would Steph go to dinner with Griffin? She knew Dave was waiting for her. She was supposed to sign the papers and meet him at the hotel. Of course, then Griffin had one of his thugs send him away. And his stupid cell phone broke. Still, she could’ve called the room. There were no messages. He was done playing this game with Griffin and Steph. It was humiliating, and he always ended up with the short end of the stick.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Book me a flight home, would ya?” He pulled out his credit card and rattled off the number. He’d be paying it off for the next couple of months with the ridiculous last-minute price he’d have to pay, but he didn’t care. “I’m heading to the airport.”
“All right. Sorry about this. I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up, got a cab to the airport, and got the last seat on a flight home.
Chapter Eleven
Steph wasn’t too surprised that Griff followed her into the hotel. The paparazzi liked to hang around the Sunset Marquis for celebrity sightings. Griff would never pass up the opportunity to be in the spotlight. She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was slip into bed with Dave and forget tonight ever happened. Some paparazzi took their pictures as Griff walked her to the front door, his hand on the small of her back. She hurried ahead of him.
He went inside, stopped, and kissed her on the cheek. “Bye, Steph. I’ll be in touch.”
She walked off to the front desk without a word.
“You too! Take care!” he called cheerfully. Always a performance. She ignored him.
A short while later, she headed to her room. Her luggage should already be there. The room was dark. She went in quietly. It was a suite with a separate bedroom from the living room area. She peeked her head in the bedroom. The bed was still made.
Panic licked through her. “Dave?”
No answer. This was not good. She turned on the lights and looked around for signs of him. She peeked in the bathroom, no Dave, no toiletries. She peeked in the closet. One suitcase. Hers.
She tried his cell again. No answer.
Had Dave left because she was late getting back? Was he that furious that she’d gone backstage without him? Didn’t he get the message from the front desk?
She called his house and left a message. “Dave, it’s Steph. I’m at the hotel. Where are you? I’m taking the jet back home tomorrow.” She quickly decided not to mention the divorce papers still being on hold. That was a conversation they needed to have in person. “I hope to see you then. Bye.”
She got ready for bed and checked her cell one more time for messages. There was a text from Griff: Lay low for a while. Just a few pictures of us. No worries.
She did a quick Internet search and found pictures of them embracing in front of the restaurant. Dammit! Was Mandy just hiding out to get those pictures? Had Griff pulled another publicity stunt? Oh, sure, he’d sworn he had nothing to do with it, but he’d also sworn in front of a minister that he’d be faithful to her for all of his livelong days. She seriously wanted to kill him. She’d been terrified. She didn’t know if he was lying or not about Mandy. She clicked on another link. There was a picture of them walking into the hotel. A shot of when he kissed her cheek goodbye. How did these pictures get on the Internet so fast? They looked like a couple in the pictures. If this had been Griff’s plan, she’d walked right into it. She never wanted to see him again.