Chapter 8
TIANA
The café’s bell jingles and I hear Mya’s voice before I see her. I turn around, a grin pulling at my lips.
What I don’t expect is the immediate awareness that settles over me a second later.
Everything in the shop goes quiet except my heart.
The man standing next to her is… huge. Easily over six-three, maybe six-four, all broad shoulders and carved muscle under a black T-shirt that clings indecently well to his chest. His jeans hang low on his hips, a leather belt I can too-easily imagine wrapped around my wrists—
God, no, abort that thought.
And that hair. Shoulder-length, auburn, pushed back into what could only be described as a half-mullet. Two full-sleeve tattoos wind down his arms, ink disappearing under the hem of his top. Every inch of him screams rugged, off-limits, and entirely too dangerous for my peace of mind.
This is Griffin?
Even his name feels heavy on my tongue.
Shit. Focus, Tiana.
“Mya!” I greet my sister with a hug. Then, I extend my hand toward the giant man with a smile. “Hi, you must be Griffin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
For a second, he just stares at me. When he finally takes my hand, I feel rough fingers and a calloused palm against mine. Warmth travels up my arm and settles traitorously low.
But almost immediately, he jerks away, as if touching me physically pained him.
My smile falters.
Okay. That was weird.
“No thanks,” Griffin mutters, jaw locked so tight I can practically hear his molars grinding together.
Before either Mya or I can figure out what the hell that means, he pivots and heads straight for the door.
“Griffin?” Mya calls after him, sounding just as confused as I am.
The door swings shut behind him and silence settles over us as I slowly lower myself back into my chair.
Mya touches my elbow, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m so sorry. There must’ve been a work emergency,” she says automatically.
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “That wasn’t work. I saw his face.” I press my knuckles to my mouth, replaying it: the flinch, the rigidity, the way his gaze pinned me as if he knew me. “He recognized me.”
“From where?” Mya asks, genuinely thrown.
I arch a brow. “MJ. I live online. If he knows who I am from the internet and is judging me for it, then he can fuck right off.”
But as much as I play it off, being sized up and dismissed before I’ve even opened my mouth stings. People always think they know me from a few curated seconds on their screen. Maybe Griffin does too.
My sister shakes her head. “It can’t be social media. Griffin has no accounts. He acts like he’s eighty.”
“How old is he actually?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“Hmm. Then explain the way he looked at me.”
“Listen, he’s a good dad, TJ. He’s been through a lot. If you can forgive the abrupt exit…”
“Abrupt is generous,” I mutter.
“Tiana. He needs help, and you could use the extra income. You want this place, and Aravind is not going to hold it forever.”
“Fine. But I have some ground rules.”
Mya straightens, trying not to smile. “Hit me.”
“One: I’ll go to his place Saturday morning for a trial weekend. If he’s serious, I’ll prove I’m worth a shot.”
“Deal.”
“Two: I get an apology for… whatever that was.” I point at the door.
“Fair.” She grins. “I’ll tell him.”
“Three: I’m not changing who I am to make him comfortable. If he’s not okay with that, he can keep looking.”
“You got it, sis.”
The espresso machine hisses just as a couple of students wander in. I push to my feet and tug on my apron, flipping the nametag straight. Mya squeezes my hand.
“I have to run back to the office,” she says, glancing at the time. “Text me later?”
“Obviously.”
She starts for the door, then pivots back. “He is a good guy,” she says softly. “Whatever you think you saw, it’s not about you being wrong for the job. It’s him… recalibrating.”
I nod, though I’m not sure I believe her. Once Mya’s gone, I take a breath and drop into manager mode. My body is on autopilot even while my brain replays a rough palm sliding against mine and the shock that lit his eyes.
Get over yourself, TJ. It was a handshake.
I brush the thought away and tie my apron tighter.
Saturday, I’m going to make Griffin Hayes and his son like me enough to hire me —no, love me enough to hire me.