Not That Kind of Party
Maisie
Well, this was a first. From the other side of the counter, Franny stared without saying a single word. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she said, "You're joking, right?"
My face was already in flames. Nearly thirty minutes had passed since she'd first mentioned the key party, and I'd spent most of those minutes handling a string of bike rentals one after the other.
Meanwhile, Franny had stuck around to finish our conversation, and I'd just had the humiliating task of explaining exactly why I hadn't invited her to a party that had never happened.
With a grimace, I told her, "I only wish I were joking."
"But…" She squinted in confusion. "I thought it was a Tupperware thing. Or maybe a real estate mixer – you know, because of the keys." She gave a choked little laugh. "No wonder you didn't invite me."
"No, I didn't invite you, because it didn't happen."
She glanced toward the window, as if hoping to see Ryder. Or Griff. Or Magic Mike grinding away. Absently, she said, "So… you're not into swapping?"
Oh, for God's sake. "Of course not. Are you?"
"Me?" She looked offended by the question. "Just who do you think I am?"
Now that was a loaded question. "Well…you've always seemed kind of saucy. And you were around in the seventies, so…"
"So what ?" she demanded. "You think I'm a swinger?"
Talk about unfair. "Hey, you thought I was a swinger."
"No, I didn't," she said. "I thought you liked Tupperware. That's completely different."
I couldn't argue with that . "You're telling me ."
But forget key parties. The only thing I wanted to think about was Griff. Turns out, I'd horribly misjudged him. He wasn't sleeping with other girls. He was sleeping with tools, clutter, and broken bikes.
Just the thought of it was enough to break my heart. For weeks, he'd been working for nearly nothing but sandwiches. And all this time, he'd been living in a dump that should've been condemned ages ago, when key parties were still a thing.
His apartment stunk, literally, and I'd gotten a decent look at the bed. It looked old, small, lumpy – not half as comfy as my sleeping bag.
No wonder Griff was staying at the shop.
But why hadn't he told me?
Was he too ashamed?
That must be it. And what did it say about me that he didn't feel comfortable confessing that he needed someplace better to stay? Forget the shop. He could've slept with me at the house .
Just the thought of it made my heart clench with longing. We could've woken up together in a nice, comfy bed. We could've had coffee and pastries at the kitchen table. We could've sat on the porch at night, watching the fireflies and talking about whatever.
It would've been nice – no, more than nice.
It would've been perfect.
But then, my stomach sank as the truth hit home. None of this had happened, because I'd been too stubborn to invite him even for a single sleepover.
And why?
Sure, Tessa was part of it. But mostly, it was because I'd wanted to be invited to Griff's place first.
Damn it.
Was all of this my own fault?
It sure looked that way.
In front of me, Franny was saying, "Hey, do me a favor, will ya?"
With an effort, I yanked my thoughts to the present. "What?"
"Come for Euchre tomorrow."
Normally, I loved card games, and Euchre was one of my favorites. But now, between work and personal problems, I was already too buried to breathe. "Sorry, I can't."
"But you have to," she said. "Carol can't make it, and I need a partner."
"Oh, come on." I smiled. "You're friends with everybody on the island. Surely there's someone else you can ask."
"Yeah, but I'm asking you ." Her gaze turned steely. "It's the least you can do after not inviting me to your party."
This again? "But there was no party."
"Well, there is at my place. A card party. You know the address. Be there at eight, alright?"
And with that, she turned and flounced out the front door, leaving me staring after her.
Who was I kidding? Tomorrow night, I'd be there – and right on time, too, because…well, that's just who I was.
But tonight?
Tonight, I would be seeing Griff.
I would need to explain – and yes, apologize, too.
My heart gave an ominous little squeeze.
But did Griff want to see me?
Or was it already too late?