Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Did I interrupt something?” Tripp asks, his eyes volleying back and forth between Griffin and me.
“No, it’s fine,” Griffin says, his voice tight as he leaves my office. I’m left standing there, even more confused than I was before. Why the secrecy?
I help Tripp with the tablecloths, trying to focus on the task at hand. Before long, the party room transforms from ordinary to spectacular, with vibrant colors and elegant decorations. Despite the beauty of the room, my mind is still spinning with questions.
Why is Griffin so afraid to let others know about us? What is he so worried about? As I arrange the last tablecloth, I can't shake the feeling that this secrecy might be a sign of deeper issues. And I wonder, how long can we keep hiding before it all comes crashing down?
Chapter 24
Griffin
I feel as if there’s a weight on my shoulders that is currently getting heavy to bear. As I swiftly walk toward the kitchen, everything that just happened in Anya’s office plays in a loop in my mind.
“My mother knows about us?”
“When will you be ready? When I pop out a few kids?”
I feel a drop of sweat trickle down my back as I push into the kitchen. The secret we’ve been keeping is slowly coming to the surface and I’m not ready for the fallout of it.
I broke a promise I made to Callum and I see no way of making him understand I had no choice. He doesn’t understand love. He will cut me out as his friend and the likelihood that I lose my job is pretty damn high. I never wanted to choose between Anya and Callum, but I’m afraid that’s the direction we’re headed.
Carol knows and it’s only a matter of time before Don is told. I have no idea how he’ll react to the news. Will he accept our relationship or will he deem me damaged goods?
There are so many ways this could blow up in my face and I’m terrified that in the end, I’ll be the one left standing alone.
“Chef, the article in the paper about you was impressive. Congratulations.”
I nod to Charles, one of my sous chefs. “Thanks,” I mumble.
Of course, I read the article. Being described as a master in the kitchen had me smiling like a damn fool. It’s a compliment that truly made me proud.
I’ve overcome a lot in my life, mainly my father, and although only two people know how horrible it was, I feel like I’ve accomplished things that seemed unreachable. I didn’t think I’d survive childhood, let alone get a culinary degree. I never would’ve imagined being the head chef at any restaurant, never mind being a co-owner with my best friends. I sure as hell didn’t think I’d ever experience love and yet here I am, desperately in love with Anya.
None of it was handed to me. I’ve busted my ass for everything. Christ, I had to chase after Anya to give me a chance.
Now just when I feel like I have everything that I could possibly ever want, I could lose it all.
I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath. “No, fuck that,” I whisper to myself. I’ve fought for everything I have and I’m not going to stop now. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’m determined to have it all.
“Hey, the room is set up and Anya is kinda in bitch mode, so watch out,” Tripp says, grinning as he walks into the kitchen.
“Hey, don’t talk about your sister that way.”
“You know, someone recently told me that every guy fights for the right woman,” he says, grabbing a stack of napkins.
“Sounds like a smart guy,” I say, chuckling.
“He is if he takes his own advice,” he says, walking out of the kitchen.
For fuck’s sake.
“Griff, you sure everything is good for tonight,” Callum asks, rushing into the kitchen.
I know tonight is a big deal, but he’s been over the top the last few days. Now that I have the worry of my secret being exposed, I’m feeling that fire inside me that Anya has been so good at keeping at bay.
“Yeah, Callum, I told you a hundred times. I’ve got everything handled. It will be a perfectly executed dinner. Fucking relax.”
Yep, I regret the words as they slip out of my mouth.
“What the hell did you just say? You want me to fucking relax when we have the potential for the biggest thing to happen at the brewery? You want me to fucking relax and let it all fall to shit and let our—mine and yours—reputation be disgraced? Maybe you shouldn’t be so relaxed like you’ve been the last few weeks. I’ve noticed how different you’ve been and I wasn’t going to say anything, but seriously what the hell is going on?”
I blow out a breath as I try to compose myself. “I didn’t mean it. You know me better than that. I just meant try not to stress yourself out so much. I promise you that everything is handled in this kitchen. I would never disappoint you or this brewery. Give me a little credit. I’m sorry it came out the way it did,” I say, hoping to deflect from his last bit of questioning.