26. Lennon
Chapter 26
Lennon
Pivot
H e was leaning on the jamb of the doorway when I came out.
He held out a hand for me and I took it. He drew me out into the patio and past it to the half wall that blocked off the beach from the winding walkway. He leaned on it and pulled me into his arms. “Where to next?”
“Those tacos felt like a long time ago.”
“You worked them off.” He arched a brow at me and grinned when my mouth dropped open. “Do I lie?”
“No.” I poked him in the belly. “I know a place that has the best burgers.”
“In Miami?”
I laughed. “When I lived here, I ate a lot of Cuban and Mexican food. Sometimes you want to change it up.”
“All right then.”
“We’ll probably be overdressed,” he said with a laugh and tugged me away from the wall.
“Hole in the wall and mom and pop places are the best, no matter where.”
“See, you get it.”
We headed away from the club to one of the main streets. There were a mix of bistros and sandwich shops, along with an alcove full of food trucks to take care of the harder partiers looking for greasy food to soak up the alcohol.
“Where are we going?” He looked over his shoulder. “We’re getting a little sketchy.”
“I told you it was a hole in the wall place.” I linked my arm through his. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Finally, I spotted the stucco building. A hand-painted sign with Frankie’s hung over the skinny window. Inside was dark and needed a new coat of paint, but the scent of burgers, onions, and garlic made me sigh.
“Trust me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Go find us a seat, and I’ll order.”
“Okay. This place have a beer?”
“Of course.”
“Get me one of those.” He reached for his wallet, and I waved him off. He didn’t argue, just found a tiny table in the corner.
“Hey, Frankie.”
“Little Miss Fire, where you been?” The older man with a cue ball of a head was wearing his usual golf hat, this time, in a crazy lime green. His skin was baked from the sun and his brown eyes were kind.
“I’ve been all over. Mostly New York lately.”
“Bah!”
I laughed. “I know, I know. I need a few number sevens.”
“You got a man with you?” He craned his neck to look around me.
“Maybe. I told him this was the best burger place.”
He puffed out his chest. “Of course it is.”
“And two Modelos.”
“Can do.”
I moved down to the registers where Matilda was manning the till and seemed to be training someone at the same time. The dollar bills were flying and the poor trainee looked like she was going to cry.
“Lennon!” Matilda ran around the counter and nearly smothered me with her boobs. She was round and soft and always smelled like chocolate chip cookies.
I patted her back. “Nice to see you too.”
She pushed me back. “Let me look at you.” She frowned then she moved closer. “What’s with the bruise?”
Griffin stood up, a frown on his face.
Matilda noticed him, pulled a wooden spoon from the jar beside the register, and went barreling toward him.
I raced after her. “Matilda! Wait.”
“Ma’am.” Griffin stood, arms at his sides.
“Did you do this to her?” She held the spoon aloft.
Griffin stiffened but he shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Matilda, no, he didn’t.” I grabbed her arm with the spoon. I knew firsthand how much that could hurt. “Sorry, Griffin.”
He nodded, but he didn’t say another word.
“Matilda, this is Griffin St. James.” I slid my arm around his back. “Griffin, this is my crazy friend Matilda. She didn’t mean to swing the spoon of death at you.”
Slowly, she lowered the spoon. “I’m sorry. I don’t abide by men who lay hands on a woman.”
“Neither do I,” he said gently. “Unfortunately, it was an accident while we were at a club.”
Matilda narrowed her eyes. “You hit her?”
I sighed. “Mattie, it was another woman.”
She swung her narrowed gaze at me. “And you hit her back?”
I laughed. “I would have but it was a sucker...er, elbow, I guess. Wasn’t a punch.”
Matilda nodded. “Well, all right.” She turned to the registers with a sigh. “I have to go back up there. Susie isn’t smart enough to do math in her head yet. But she’s learning.” She thundered her way back up to the front.
“Sorry about that.”
He kissed my forehead. “I’m just glad you have people who care about you enough to come out swinging.”
“I have a few.” I hugged him then I went back up to pay. By the time I did, Frankie had a tray of food waiting for me.
Griffin came up behind me and took the tray as I took the two bottles of beer. “This smells amazing. Makes up for Matilda.” He sat with the tray and picked up one of the seasoned fries. “I’m not getting poisoned, right?”
“No.” I snickered. “No worries there.”
“Good.” He pulled off a paper plate that was already greasy, thanks to the fried mushrooms dripping from the sides. “I’m going to need our bed after this.”
I took mine. “Agreed.”
The food was amazing and both of us were ready to roll out of there. Between the fries and the burgers along with the beer and the long day, we were wiped.
Griffin ordered a share ride on his phone for us to go back to the hotel. When we got back, we wandered down to the beach instead of going up to our room.
We both held our shoes as we went down near the shoreline to let the lacy tide wash over our toes.
“This is a pretty amazing place,” he said softly.
It was dark and the breakers were starting to come in with more gusto. A few people dotted the beach, but it was well past midnight leaving, just a few of us. Much more were under blankets on loungers up closer to the hotel.
Being New Yorkers, this was bikini weather for us—even after dark.
Lights dotted the water in the distance from pleasure boats and yachts. Miami was a mix of the rich and the working class, with a healthy dose of danger on the fringes. It was one of my favorite places.
It should be the perfect place for me to bring Daphne’s to life.
I leaned against him as he wrapped his free arm around my shoulders. “It is,” I said, quietly.
“You know I’d come with you, right?”
I drew in a quick breath. “Griffin...”
“I just want you to know that. We still have plenty of time to figure stuff out, but I want you to know that if this is your place, it can be mine.”
“What about the orchard?”
“It’ll always be there.”
“Starting a business means I’ll be working all the time. I won’t have time?—”
“Time for me? Or time for a relationship?”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“You make time for the people who matter.”
“I just don’t know yet.”
“That’s fair.” He tightened his hold, then he let me go to link our fingers. “Want to head back?”
“Yeah.”
At the top of the beach, we washed off our feet before we found the elevators to our room. We were quiet, the heaviness of our conversation like an unwanted person in the room.
We got ready for bed. I sat on the side of the bed wearing the silky nightgown I’d brought with me, but it didn’t feel right. I wanted one of his shirts.
Instead of fighting it, I went to his duffel bag and took one of his shirts and swapped it out. When I turned back to him, his eyes were warmer. It was my Griffin before the hard talk.
He turned out the lights and I slipped into the ridiculously decadent sheets and found him. Let him curl around me, tucking me tight against him until my back was with flush with his chest. His hand slid under the shirt to my belly like we often slept.
And I let myself drift off with his heartbeat against me and the waves crashing outside.
When morning came, he was gone.
I sat up and slipped out of bed to find him on the balcony staring out at the water.
I padded back into our bedroom of the suite and found my phone.
Free to meet about the club?
Richard:
I can be there in two hours.
See you then.
I wasn’t sure this was the way we should go... I should go.
I closed my eyes because the we came so very easily. Was that a sign? Or just my mixed-up emotions?
It had been so straightforward before the orchard.
Before Griffin.
This was where I was supposed to go. To create a place that mattered to me.
“Hey, you’re up.”
I opened my eyes to find him in the doorway to our room. He wore low-slung jeans and nothing else. He held a mug in his hand and his hair was wild from sleep and the wind.
“I texted Richard. I need to meet him in two hours.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He straightened. “I ordered some room service. Come on out.”
I nodded and stood.
Breakfast wasn’t quite as awkward as last night, but it was filled with small talk. The kind of conversations we’d never had between us before.
I escaped to get ready, the pancakes like lead in my stomach.
He followed me in and caught me before I went into the bathroom. He slung his arm around my waist as he lowered his mouth to my ear. “Lennon.”
I smoothed my hand along his arm. “I have to get ready.”
He let me go and I immediately wanted to turn around and throw myself into his arms.
But I didn’t.
I closed the door and rested my forehead on it, my eyes burning. It didn’t have to be either or. Part of me knew that, but I knew if I was going to make this club a success, it needed to be my sole focus.
Griffin wouldn’t be a half measure. Even if he said he could be, I knew it wasn’t him. He threw himself into the orchard, into getting to know Kain, into...me.
There was no halfway Griffin.
I let a few tears fall in the shower, hiding them from even myself under the spray. Then, resolute, I finished washing up and wrangled my hair into a crown braid against the humidity.
Work mode.
I got dressed and left the bedroom. Griffin was back on the balcony. He’d put on his sunglasses against the cloudless sky and the sun was already blasting off the water.
He glanced over at me. I couldn’t see his eyes to know what he was thinking. He looked back out on the water for a few seconds before coming back in. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
I nodded.
The lump in my throat didn’t go away, even with a cup of coffee.
It was still there, when he came out with another pair of linen pants on in deference to the heat. He wore a black shirt that was tight across his shoulders and chest and loose around his middle. The shades were back that made him look dangerously pissed off with his sharp features and tight beard.
Evidently, we were both a pair today.
Because of me.
But it was better to figure this out now.
Maybe I didn’t even have to work through the summer with him.
Maybe that would be best for all of us.
Out front, the convertible was waiting for us. The growling engine suited our mood. His driving was controlled but fast as we took the interchanges to the heart of Miami Beach. The area was mid-revival with old buildings wrapped in coming soon signs for eateries, bars, and shopping.
There were two huge hotels nearby and already a strip of shops near the beach. The closer we got, the louder the ocean became. The humidity and salt hung in the air along with the nearby laughter of people vacationing on the beach.
We rolled onto the parking lot, which was large enough to hold a ton of cars. It was pitted and definitely needed resurfacing but was well kept. A car, which had to be Richard’s, waited by the front doors.
His driver was standing against the car, his arms folded.
We parked near him and both of us got out.
“Hi, is Mr. Devon inside?”
The man nodded but he said nothing.
“Okay.” I shook my head and headed up the ramp to the front doors.
The stairs were in desperate need of repairs, but the doors were a very cool Art Deco style. Inside it was definitely an ode to the 80s with some old carpeting that definitely needed to go. It looked as if whoever owned it before had done some remodeling, but now it was a dingy white with ceiling fans that looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a decade.
There was more Art Deco treatments on the frosted glass doors.
I glanced over at Griffin, who was looking around with a remote look on his face. His poker face was way better than I expected after getting to know him.
The happy-go-lucky Griffin was gone.
We’d been so close the day before and now the tension was as heavy as the humidity in the building. I plucked at my shirt to get it off my sweaty skin before I walked through the frosted doors.
I rolled my shoulders to kick off the nerves.
Richard wasn’t in the main club area. But my mouth dropped open at the massive circular bar that took up one whole corner of the place. It was a hideous, teal-tiled area, but the space was awesome.
I hurried over to duck under the side access to the bar.
Inside was a long counter that curved with the same shape of the bar. Tons of space for alcohol, glasses, mixers, and best of all, bartenders. There was plenty of room to move without knocking into people, and a high ceiling to allow for all of the flair.
“Lennon?”
“In here!”
Richard came through another set of doors to the back deck. I hadn’t gotten there yet. He noticed Griffin first and held out his hand. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize she was bringing someone with her.”
“Griffin St. James. I’m just a friend along for the ride.”
The friend word arrowed into me. It was what I wanted. No strings, just us having a good time.
Even if we’d left the good time on the beach last night.
Richard came farther into the room and to the bar. He was in his forties and trim in a neutral summer suit. Shrewd eyes the color of moss offset sandy hair cut short. “I knew this would be a selling point for you.”
“It’s amazing. The front needs a lot of work, though.”
“Mostly just surface stuff. I had a code enforcement guy come through before I contacted you about this with a list of things that need work. It does need new HVAC, which will cost a mint, but the place is structurally sound. It’s mostly cosmetic for renovations.”
“That’s good.” I looked beyond Richard to see Griffin standing on the expanse of ugly carpet outside the back doors. Then I refocused on Richard. “Looks like they’re doing a lot of work on the area.”
He nodded. “They want to build up this space. Spread out the vacationers and focus on younger people.”
“Which is where I would come in.”
“Exactly.” He held out his arm. “Wait until you see the deck.”
“I can’t wait.”
Griffin followed me silently. The slap of ocean wind set me back a step and into Griffin’s arms. Lightly, he rubbed up and down my arms. “It’s amazing,” he said softly before slipping away from me.
The deck was staggering. It curved, creating little nooks for people to get away from the busy bar. But also, it had a massive area that could be built out with an outside bar.
Water lapped below along with space for boat launches.
Perhaps water taxies around the area with other outside venues. I climbed the wide-spaced stairs to the railing and looked out on the water. The water rippled with the winds and in the distance, an ominous sterling cloud cover was coming up off the water.
I turned around to look at the deck from this vantage point.
It would be stunning.
Bleached wood with a high varnish against the harsh ocean air would be needed.
But I preferred the dark tones of the taproom.
It was slick. Perfect for people my age and younger, creating a place for hookups and the rich music of Miami.
And not for me anymore.
Maybe three years ago, this would have been perfect for me, but it wasn’t any longer.
I turned to Griffin and smiled.
My life had been a series pivots. Evidently, there was one more on the way.