Griffin gave Reese an icy look. “Not you, too? Am I the only one who has a problem with the whole ‘secret society’ being secret?”
Jonathan shot him a sympathetic smile across the table, but Griffin noticed he didn’t speak up. Coward.
“Hey, I know,” Gretchen said, giving Griffin a wide-eyed innocent look as she settled Hunter into the only empty chair at the table. “Why don’t you take another swig of ‘Shut the Hell Up’ and let me care for my man?”
Dignity didn’t allow Griffin to answer. He settled for giving her his best cold aristocratic stare-down. It seemed to be wasted on Gretchen, as she was currently fussing over Hunter, and the scarred man was letting her. Disgraceful. When Gretchen was satisfied with the state of Hunter’s attire, she turned around and sat in his lap. “So, what are we playing?”
Griffin stared at her and waited for someone to correct her impertinence.
“Hold ’Em,” Cade volunteered, ever the suck up.
“Cool,” Gretchen said, and grabbed Hunter’s chips, wiggling on his lap. “I’ll help Hunter play.”
“What, are his hands sick, too?” Jonathan asked, a dry note of humor in his voice.
Gretchen wagged a playful finger at him, and Hunter only wrapped his arms around her waist, a pleased look on his ugly face as he wiped his nose with a Kleenex. He seemed to like Gretchen there.
Traitor.
Even Logan, the head of their society, didn’t seem displeased to see Gretchen at their table. Sure, she’d signed a non-disclosure agreement in which she’d promised not to divulge a single detail of their secret Brotherhood, but it was the principle of the thing, wasn’t it?
“We’ll skip the professional discussions this week,” Logan said, lighting a cigar.
Figured. He’d been looking forward to losing himself in some business talk. It seemed like everything was against him right now. He said nothing as the first cards were dealt, and chipped in his amount to match Cade’s bid.
“I’ll see your amount,” Gretchen said, pushing chips forward. “And raise you that gigantic stick up Griffin’s ass.”
Griffin threw down his cards. “Oh, come on. This is ridiculous.”
“Kids, kids,” Reese said. “Let’s settle down.”
“He started it,” Gretchen said sulkily. “It’s that snotty accent of his. Everything he says sounds ten times more jerkish.”
Griffin glared at the hateful woman. “If you don’t like it, feel free to leave. I don’t seem to recall anyone inviting you here in the first place.”
Hunter only tightened his grip around Gretchen’s waist and gave Griffin a small shake of his head, warning him not to pick a fight. Good God. A man fell in love and all of a sudden, he was letting his woman walk all over him. Griffin vowed that he’d never let that happen to himself.
Cade peered at Griff from over his cards. “You all right? You seem unusually moody tonight.”
Griffin rubbed at his face. “I’m having a hell of a time, thank you for asking.”
Logan grunted acknowledgment of this.
“What’s the problem?” Jonathan wanted to know. “Anything I can help with?”
“Not unless you have a spare assistant,” Griffin said. He put his cards down, unable to concentrate. “My assistant-slash-valet is ill and won’t be available to travel for at least another week, and I fly to Bellissime tomorrow night for the circus that will be cousin Alexandra’s wedding.”
Gretchen gasped. “Holy shit. Princess Alexandra of Bellissime is your cousin?” She fanned herself, looking excited. “That explains that douchey attitude! You’re royalty?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. He never tried to hold his title over anyone here in the States to make them feel inferior, but at this moment, he was sorely tempted. “I don’t see why it matters.”
“That wedding is a huge deal!” Gretchen exclaimed. “It’s kind of neat that you’re going.”
“Except that Griffin is probably almost as antisocial as Hunter there,” Jonathan acknowledged with a nod. He shot a glance at Griffin. “And it’s interfering with other projects.”
Damn. Griffin was going to be upset about missing that dig for weeks. He just knew it. He’d go check on things afterward, of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as getting that initial tour of the grounds and being there on site as things transpired.
“It doesn’t even matter if I wanted to go,” Griffin said. “Which I most emphatically do not wish to attend. But if I don’t have an assistant, I’ll be forced to rely on my mother’s staff.” His collar felt chokingly tight at the thought, and he tugged at it and his necktie. “So I need an assistant.”