“I don’t know you that well yet, but I’m sure you’re a good dad, Griff.”
His eyes meet mine, something vulnerable flashing there before he looks away, forcing a smile. “Trying my best. He’s a handful, but he’s my world.”
Something about the way he says it makes my chest ache. I clear my throat, deciding to nudge the conversation back into safer waters. “So… Did you bring a date tonight?”
Griffin gives me a deadpan look. “No. I don’t have time for dates.”
The bluntness makes me laugh.
“Fair enough. Guess you’ll just have to put up with your coworkers as your dates for the evening.”
That earns me a grin, brief yet genuine. He then checks his phone again with the same pinched expression as before. I bite back the urge to tease him. This isn’t the same easygoing Griff from the office; this isDad Griff, the one who’s worried about his kid.
I reach out and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Try not to think the worst. He’s probably running circles around that babysitter, charming the socks off her. You deserve to have fun tonight.”
His mouth pulls into a reluctant half-smile. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. Now… Where is everyone else hiding, anyway?”
“Some are near the silent auction tables, others are hovering by the buffet like vultures. Dre’s probably making her rounds to keep us in line.”
I nod. “Perfect. I’ll grab a drink and see if I can find them.”
The bar is crowded,but I manage to wedge myself in and get a glass of champagne. I’ve barely taken my first sip when the air shifts. That familiar prickle down my spine tells me who it is before I can even look.
Worth steps in beside me, his presence pressing in from all sides. “Ms. Jones. Enjoying the evening?” His voice is calm, professional.
My pulse kicks up. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks, subtle, though impossible to miss. It happens every time I use his last name, like the sound of it coming from me grates on him.
Worth’s eyes flick briefly across the ballroom before landing back on me. “I’ve noticed you and Griffin have become quite close.”
My breath hitches, and for a second, I can’t tell if it’s an observation or an accusation.
“So youarejealous, Mr. Miller.” I angle my head, letting the challenge hang in the air. “All that talk about not fraternizing with other employees the other day, and yet…”
That twitch in his jaw again, and the faintest flare of his nostrils—like he’s fighting to control a reaction.
Worth’s mouth curves. “Careful with that word, Mya.”
“Why? Did I hit a nerve?” I sip my champagne, feigning nonchalance even as heat coils low in my belly.
He leans in just slightly, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Jealousy implies possession. And I don’t make a habit of laying claim to my employees.”
Something reckless sparks in me. “Good. Because I don’t make a habit of belonging to anyone. You don’t get toclaimme.”
His eyes hold mine for a second too long. It’s not professional or distant, like the front he usually puts up. “Then stop looking at me like you want me to.”
My throat goes dry, but I force a smirk and push back. “Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend?” I nod towards the redhead across the room.
“That’s not my girlfriend.”
“Go figure,” I mutter under my breath.
His head tilts. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I answer quickly, pasting on another polite smile.