“Thank you for being here,” Griff said. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am, and how much I appreciate all that you’ve done—”
“Hi! You must be Kinga,” Ava loudly stated, cutting off Griff’s words. Kinga couldn’t decide if Ava was being rude or if she was trying to stop Griff from continuing his sentence.
Griff whirled around and his eyes widened on seeing her. She saw a hint of panic in his deep green gaze before his expression slid into impassivity. “I thought you’d left, Kinga,” Griff said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You said you were heading back to your office.”
“I thought I’d take a minute to decompress and this room was handy,” Kinga explained. She sent Ava and Stan a quick smile. “I’m Kinga Ryder-White. I handle Ryder International’s PR and publicity.”
Stan held out his hand to shake Kinga’s and introduced his wife. Kinga suppressed her burning questions. Why they were still friends if Griff kissed Stan’s wife in a New York nightclub and was then photographed leaving her apartment the next morning? Stan had threatened to sue Griff. Was this some weird ménage à trois? Why did Kinga feel she was missing something big?
She tried to act normal. Well, as normal as one could act when in the presence of two incredibly famous musicians and an actress/model who was as well-known for her climate change activism as she was for her lovely face and gorgeous body.
Griff gestured for them all to sit. “I appreciate you being here,” he told his friends, sitting next to Kinga on the two-seater couch, his thigh pressing into hers. “How do you think the press conference went?”
Ava looked at Stan before speaking. “The news that you are returning to work is explosive and everyone will run the story. But with the good comes the bad, and they will dredge up the past.”
Kinga turned her head to look at Griff’s profile, noticing that his jaw was tight with tension. “For what’s it worth, I thought you were wonderful. You were completely professional, and you handled the questions with humor and class,” she told him.
Griff smiled, his expression amused. “Thank you. I’ve been doing this for a long, long time, Kinga.” Turning to his friends, he gestured to Kinga. “Kinga has spent the last week dreading this press conference. She was convinced that I’d lose my shit and embarrass her and Ryder International.”
“I did not say that!” Kinga vehemently retorted. When Griff raised his eyebrows in protest, Kinga tossed her hands up in the air.
“You thought it,” Griff said, and Kinga heard a note in his voice she couldn’t identify. He couldn’t be feeling hurt at her lack of faith, could he? No, she was letting her imagination run away from her.
Ava rested her forearms on her thighs and checked her watch. “The car will be here to collect us soon.” She looked at Griff. “What are your plans today? Stan and I have meetings in Manhattan later, but we’ve been invited to Frodo’s tonight. Geraint wants to test his new menu on us. We’re sneaking in the back door and using the private dining room. Do you want to join us?”
Kinga had grown up wealthy and was used to a certain amount of local fame, but these people were in a league of their own. Frodo’s was a multi-Michelin star restaurant in Manhattan and Geraint Du Pont was its lauded, avant-garde chef. Normal people were required to wait eighteen months and to take out a personal loan to eat his creations.
Griff looked at Kinga. “Well?”
Kinga frowned, surprised. “I’m invited?”
“Sure,” Ava said, her expression friendly. “But we’d need to leave quite soon if we are to make our meetings. The Gulfstream is waiting at the airport.”
Griff looked at her, waiting for her response. She was so tempted, but there was no way she could just blow off the rest of the day to take a jaunt with these superstars. She had a ball to organize and a to-do list as long as her arm to get through. “Uh, thank you, but I really can’t.”
Ava’s smile reflected her disappointment. “Pity, I was looking forward to getting to know you better.”
Why? Kinga ran her fingers across her forehead, trying to make sense of what was happening. Griff had had an affair, a one-night stand, asomethingwith his best friend’s wife. Yet here they were, all acting like the paparazzi hadn’t caught him with his mouth on hers or her hand on his butt. Maybe they’d all forgotten?
Ava looked at Griff and then smiled at her husband.
“She has that what-the-hell-is-happening look,” she said, unfurling her long body and standing up. Stan followed her to his feet and immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, sending Kinga a sympathetic smile.
Kinga shrugged, following the others to her feet. “I admit, I’m a bit thrown by this dynamic.”
Griff glared at his friends before looking at Kinga, his expression impassive. “I’m sorry you can’t join us. I think you would’ve enjoyed Geraint’s food.”
She was sure she would’ve too.
“Bring me back a Lombardi’s pizza and a slice of cheesecake from Junior’s,” Kinga joked.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart,” Griff said.
God, her heart melted like an ice cube under a blowtorch every time he called her an endearment in his raspy, sexy voice. “Have fun,” Kinga told him, unable to keep her eyes from darting to Stan’s big hand on his wife’s hip.
Ava stepped forward, took Kinga’s hands and placed a kiss on her right cheek, then her left, before holding her own cheek against Kinga’s to speak in her ear. “There’s always a story under the story, honey. The truth is never simple and seldom found on entertainment websites.”
Ava stepped back and smiled at her. “I hope we meet again.” Turning to her husband, she held out her hand, which Stan took. “New York, baby?”