“Please, spare the details,” Cade said with a grimace. He added his ante. “Audrey’s a childhood friend of mine, and I don’t want to hear about her raging hormones.”
“Jealous?” Reese said with a grin. He nudged Griffin on the other side of him. “You in, buddy?”
“Hm?” Griffin looked up from his phone, frowning at Kip’s message. It was two simple words. No luck. Damn it all. “I’m in.” He forced his attention back on the card game.
Logan put in his ante and arched an eyebrow at Griffin. “Everything okay?”
“Just family issues,” Griffin said sourly, and reached backward to the drink table and grabbed the bottle of cognac. The others preferred whisky, but he liked something a bit smoother. He didn’t bother pouring it into a glass, just opened the bottle, swirled it, and took a swig.
Now, both of Logan’s eyebrows went up. “I’m pretty sure,” Logan began, “that there’s no such thing as ‘just’ family issues. At least, not in my experience. They asking for money?”
“If only.” If he could toss a few million at his family and make this go away, he would. Griffin chugged the cognac again. Maybe he should have gone for whisky after all.
Reese began to flick cards out on the table, dealing. “So where the hell is Hunter tonight?”
“Gretchen said he was on his way,” Logan said with a shrug. “I assume he got caught in traffic.”
Jonathan picked up his cards off the table and gave Griffin a curious look. “You nervous about the site visit?”
“Site visit?”
“The dig we sponsored. Spain?” Jonathan looked surprised that Griffin had forgotten. “We’re supposed to go next week and see how things are progressing. You know they found a promising cache of coins.”
“Damn it.” He’d forgotten. “I can’t go. I have to be at the royal wedding.”
All the men groaned sympathetically. “God, that sounds like the biggest whipping ever,” Reese said.
Griffin didn’t disagree.
Jonathan was frowning. “You’re bailing out on me, man? But I—”
The door at the top of the stairs opened, and all five men turned, conversation forgotten.
Hunter appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in a heavy jacket, scarf, and carrying a box of Kleenex. His nose was red, his eyes bleary, the ugly scars on his face livid. He sneezed.
As Hunter descended the stairs, his girlfriend, Gretchen, trailed close behind him, a worried look on her face. “Do you need more cold medicine, baby?”
She looked like she was the one who’d been sick. Her vivid red hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she wore a baggy sweater and yoga pants. If he’d have passed her on the street, Griffin would have questioned if she was homeless or not. He still couldn’t believe Hunter had fallen for her. She seemed so very . . . uncouth.
“I’m fine,” Hunter said, though he hardly sounded like himself. His voice was raspy and broken.
“Oh, clearly,” Gretchen said sarcastically. She tromped to the bottom of the stairs after him and began to unwind her scarf, tugging off her jacket. “Hi boys, sorry we’re late.”
Griffin groaned into his cards. This wasn’t the first time Hunter had brought his loudmouth girlfriend with him to one of their “supposedly” private meetings, and it annoyed Griffin each time. “Really, Hunter? You couldn’t come without her?”
Gretchen shot Griffin the finger as she reached for Hunter’s jacket, helping him take it off. “He’s sick as f**k, prick. I told him to stay in bed, but he wouldn’t, so I came with him. You can just suck it up.”
“Lovely,” Griffin muttered. “Just what the evening needed, a visiting harridan.”