“I just want you to take me. My karate might be a little rusty, but I’d certainly have the element of surprise on my side should you need a quick defense.”
Griffin couldn’t help himself. The thought of her defending him against anything other than a pack of marauding Munchkins was so incredibly goofy he simply had to laugh. “I’m glad you finally want to travel with me, elated in fact, but no, you simply can’t come with me to Paris.”
Darcy reached out to poke him in the chest. “What about this angle? Let’s say Lyman Vaughn never heard of Seattle, but somehow he suspects you’re tight with Interpol. If you show up with an adoring girlfriend, it will be plain that you’re simply a concert musician out to have an entertaining weekend, rather than a talented snitch with something to hide.”
Surprised by her logic, Griffin relaxed his stance and shoved his hands into his hip pockets. “That’s very good. But if I wanted a sidekick, I’d take one f
rom Interpol.”
“What makes you think Vaughn doesn’t have a dossier on all their agents? No, a pro just won’t do, and together, we’ll be so thoroughly convincing he’ll have no clue what you’re up to. Let’s just do it, Griffin, and then you can retire from the world of international intrigue to write beautiful symphonies.”
“I think you’re the one who needs to be whomped upside the head. But for now, I’ll just take you home.”
“Promise me you’ll think about it,” Darcy stressed.
“Oh, yeah, I can promise you that. I’ll think of little else.”
Darcy hadn’t been home five minutes before she made a quick trip to the post office to pick up the form for a passport. An hour later she’d had photos taken and put the request for rapid service in the mail. It had been an easy process compared to the battle to accompany Griffin which still lay ahead.
When she finally entered the nursery, she found an even worse shambles than she’d anticipated. She sat on an overturned bucket to decide where to begin and was still prioritizing jobs in her mind when George climbed over the sandbags at the corner and pulled open the gate.
“Lordy, what a mess!” he called.
“My sentiments exactly, but we’ll have my crew here tomorrow to slick things up real quick. Any damage at your place?”
“The roof sprang a leak over the dining room, but Marge had wanted to redecorate the room anyway.”
Darcy rose and set the bucket aside. “So it’s not a disaster then?”
“No, and a decorating project will keep her out of mischief for a while. You look a whole lot happier than I expected. What did I miss?”
Darcy didn’t describe how frightened they had been during the storm. She just gave him the good news about the lease. “Griffin made it sound as though the weather had influenced his decision, and maybe it did. But whatever his reasons, the pressure’s off for a while. We’ll still have to make certain Defy the World looks great before the next batch of tourists arrive, but I think we will.”
George focused his attention on the pottery shed which was definitely listing toward the shop. “Sounds like Griffin Moore is just full of surprises. You gonna marry him?”
Darcy responded with a playful punch to his shoulder. “Get out of here! Isn’t a year the absolute minimum a couple should know each other before they start talking about marriage?”
“That’s what I read in Marge’s magazines, but you ought to know your own heart. What are the man’s chances?”
Taken aback by the question, Darcy felt her cheeks fill with a bright blush. “Ask me again next summer. For now, I haven’t even told my parents that we’ve met.”
“Seems like that call is a mite overdue, Missy.”
Darcy agreed, and that night she called home, but when her father answered, she didn’t even know where to begin. So she talked about the storm, and Defy the World, and asked about his growing security business before finally admitting she’d met a man who jokingly described himself as an itinerant musician.
“His name’s Griffin Moore,” she added breathlessly. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”
After a mumbled exchange, Darcy’s mother came to the telephone. “Your daddy’s just shaking his head. Did you say you were dating Griffin Moore?”
“Yes. Is Daddy upset?” Darcy held her breath. Her parents occasionally attended a concert, but she doubted they were such great fans of classical music that they would be privy to any distressing information about Griffin.
“Stunned is a better word, honey. Last week, the PBS station here reran one of Griffin’s concerts from Carnegie Hall. I couldn’t help but notice what a handsome man he is, while your father thought I should close my eyes and just listen to the music. It’s silly of him to be jealous after all these years, isn’t it? Is Griffin as nice as he looks?”
“Yes, he certainly is.” But Darcy found it far easier to explain that Griffin owned their building than to describe how she felt about him. “I hadn’t called in a while, and I didn’t want you to worry.”
“We know you’re busy, sweetheart, but thank you so much for calling. I’m going to rush right out tomorrow and buy one of Griffin’s CDs. You tell him we’re big fans and say hello to Christy Joy and Twink for us.”
“I’ll do that. Let me talk to Daddy again, will you please?” Her father cleared his throat as he picked up the telephone. “I don’t know that I can take any more surprises. Let me sit down.”