reached around with her free hand and tucked Darby’s hair behind her ear. “You’ll settle in soon enough.”
“Do you really think there’s a ghost?”
“No. I think Candy’s a first-class brat. Don’t let her get to you. You’re a Barbizon girl now; you’re one of us.”
The dull panic that had clutched her heart since she’d left Ohio loosened, just a little, and Darby let out a deep, sad sigh.
CHAPTER THREE
New York City, 2016
The risotto was simmering nicely by the time Griff arrived home, and the scent of the peonies drifted in from the foyer, where Rose had placed them in a glass vase. He popped his head into the kitchen and she smiled up at him. “Well, hello, stranger.”
Her heart flipped as it always did when she saw him, even after three years together. His eyes, which were the color of seawater, had a laserlike intensity that made politics the obvious career choice. That or terrorist interrogator. She’d seen both men and women turn into pools of mush before him. To be the object of his affection was flattering.
He gave her a quick kiss. “Gotta change out of this suit. Just give me a minute.”
“How did it go today?”
“The mayor’s got me digging into the latest housing scandal, leaving me to figure his mess out.”
As the first deputy mayor of the city of New York, Griff was in charge of everything the mayor threw at him. Rose sympathized, having experienced similar chaos in the television studio.
While he changed, she poured two glasses of his favorite Burgundy. After a gentle stir of the risotto, she lowered the burner to a simmer, covered the pot, and joined him in the living room.
Griff reached for his glass of wine and took a large sip, then sank down into the sofa, staring into the black void of the TV screen.
“The risotto needs another ten minutes.” She rubbed his leg with her hand. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I have some interesting news.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“On my way out the door, the mayor stopped me and suggested I run for office when he’s done with his term.”
Griff had talked about running for mayor down the road, when he had more political capital and experience behind him. But that was supposed to happen far in the future. If Griff ran and won in the next election, she’d be the first lady of New York City in less than two years. The idea rattled her. The scrutiny would be horrible, Page Six of the New York Post every day. “Wow. That’s a huge leap.”
Griff gave a shy smile. “He thinks I have a strong chance, that people are looking for a fresh candidate—one who isn’t imbedded in the system.”
Whatever happened, they’d manage. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She loved the way he seemed surprised by his success, and he truly was. Just a good boy from upstate who happened to be brilliant at his job.
“Probably best not to think about it too much yet.” Griff dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “There’s so much to accomplish before then.”
“Of course.”
His eyes were more sunken than usual, and she wondered if he might be coming down with something. She curled her legs under her and snuggled in for closer inspection. Usually when they met up in the evening, she liked to entertain him with the latest exploits of her ridiculous twentysomething boss. When Rose’s job at the network had ended in a spectacular flameout, Griff had encouraged her to take a pay cut and work where she could write about culture and the arts, her first loves. She took a job at WordMerge, a media start-up with an admittedly terrible name, one that tripped on the tongue when uttered aloud.
“Today, Tyler asked if I’d cover some new strip club in Brooklyn that offers farm-to-table food and microbrewed beer. It’s called Au Naturel. Can you believe it?”
Griff nodded. “Very hip. Are you going to do it?”
“I’d rather not. I’ll let one of the assistant editors have it.”
“Why all the fluff all of a sudden?”
“I think the board is pressuring Tyler to attract more advertisers. And right now that means finding readers who only eat organic at strip clubs and are willing to drop two hundred bucks on a pot of beard-grooming cream.”
Griff smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Could be a great story.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Hey, sometimes you have to do certain things to please certain people. Then you get what you want.”
She sat up, surprised.