He blanches. “Of course not, sir.”
“Excellent, Landon.” I pin him with a dark smile and clap him on the shoulder before I release him, give the class another wave, and head for the door. Cosy looks like she wants to murder me, again, and Landon looks like he’s going to puke.
I’m confident he’ll stay the hell away from her now, though, so I’ll deal with Cosy’s ire later.Chapter Fourteen: Sugar Not-Quite DaddyCosy
“What the hell just happened?” Helix whispers. “Where have you been?”
“Discussing my relationship status in a supply closet.”
Helix’s eyes widen. “I want details when we’re not surrounded by all these ears.”
Ms. Castor gives me a look as Chef Emilee resumes her review of what’s entailed in running a kitchen in a casino hotel. I peek over at Landon who’s white as a ghost and looks like he’s going to crap his pants. He’s actually sweating and tugging at the collar of his golf shirt.
When we finally break for lunch, I tell Helix I’ll meet her in the restaurant where they’ve set up a buffet. I don’t bother with texting. Griffin answers on the second ring.
“Hey, baby. You done already? I have another meeting in an hour, and it could be a while.”
“No. We’re not done; we’re breaking for lunch.”
“How long do you have?” His voice has an excited edge.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you can stop now. What the hell did you say to Landon?”
“Who?”
“Not cute. He looked like he was going to shit himself after you left. Now tell me what you said or I will be getting on that stupid yellow school bus and sleeping in my own bed tonight. Alone.”
I can hear his teeth grind together. “He was all over you. He’s lucky I didn’t break his damn hands.”
“Seriously? Violence is unnecessary and very not you, so can the territorial caveman ridiculousness. Don’t you think I can handle Landon? I mean, I can handle you, can’t I?”
“I’m sure you can, and yes, you handle all of me very well, in every capacity. However, I didn’t like the way he was hanging off of you, so I informed him that in my world, it constituted sexual harassment.”
“And what do you call locking a college student in a supply closet and finger-banging her?”
“I call that foreplay since that college student happens to be my girlfriend, and I think that despite her current audacity, she loved every fucking second of it.”
I tug at my collar, feeling suddenly hot all over again. I still can’t believe he did that. Also, he’s correct. I did love every second of it. “Why are we referring to each other in the third person now?”
“I’m not sure. You started it, though. Anything else you want to be mad at me for right now, or are you planning to save the rest of your wrath for later?”
“I think I’ll let it fester.”
“Excellent. I look forward to the cathartic angry fuck this evening. Enjoy your afternoon. I recommend the lobster bisque if they’re serving it.”
He hangs up before I have a chance to say anything else. Not that I know what to say. But we are definitely talking about this later. Dealing with Griffin is nothing like dealing with clueless college boys, that’s for sure.
I don’t get a chance to fill Helix in on the supply closet details because there’s no privacy at lunch since we’re seated at tables of eight. Griffin is right, the lobster bisque is delicious, and Landon avoids me like I’ve suddenly contracted every single fatal airborne disease known to man. I spend the rest of the day completely distracted, and irritated, and oddly horny.
At four, we’re finally free to either get back on the bus and return to the college or find our own transportation home. Obviously I’m not going anywhere. Ms. Castor still seems like she wants to grill me, but she has to get back on the bus, thwarting that potentially awkward conversation.
What the hell do I say if she asks me more questions about Griffin and how I know him? “Oh, you know, we’re seeing each other, he popped my cherry, and today I found out that he’s the heir to the biggest hotel chain in North America” seems farfetched.
Also, now that the surprise of seeing Griffin present to my class has passed, I’m able to process everything better. I feel like an idiot for not cluing in before that he’s one of the Mills brothers. All the signs were there. It’s possible I chose to ignore them so I could stay blissfully oblivious in my bubble. I may have done the same thing back in high school with my one long-term boyfriend who ended up dumping me so he could get his manwhore on in college.
I walk through the lobby and take the dedicated elevator to the penthouse floor. I’m still annoyed with Griffin, but also with myself. And now there’s this whole girlfriend thing. I don’t even know how to deal. I wish he weren’t so . . . sure and persuasive. Doesn’t he get that by calling me his girlfriend, he’s inviting feelings, and those are dangerous?