Taming McGruff(51)

She sank down in a chair, rubbing her back, and then her rounded belly. “Why? That’s something I’ll never figure out, Griff. She was so happy when my father was alive. After,” she shivered, “it’s like every sign of it vanished.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I can’t even begin to tell you all the threats she made.”

Now he sat, facing her.

Opening her eyes, she could barely focus on him. “I was just a kid, but the havoc she wreaked. I couldn’t stop her. I tried. I even snuck out of the house and went to see Daddy’s lawyer at his office. He was the only one who stood up to her.”

Something cold and hard dropped in his middle. “What happened?” he choked out.

“He was devastated, too. But he vowed he’d get to the bottom of it, stop her.” She shook her head. “I really didn’t understand at the time, but he held a press conference. King’s was an iconic store then, so the reporters came in droves. He said as my father’s best friend, he would do everything in his power to fulfill my father’s legacy of keeping King’s open and make certain the store would provide for his daughters so they too could take their rightful place at the helm of King’s when the time came.”

Griff couldn’t recall the exact words; however, she’d given him the pieces to some of the holes in his own memory of that speech. “That was the moment of his downfall.”

“How did you guess?” she asked. “Stepmother fumed. I remember she threw a bottle and broke a window. Glass shattered everywhere. Thank goodness for Dolly. She gathered Francie, Prissy and me and kept us in her room until the worst of it blew over. But, he didn’t fare so well. She went after him with a vengeance I will never forget. She tore him apart. I never saw him again. Later, Dolly told me he’d died in squalor.”

That was the shortened, condensed version of his father’s slow, sad demise.

Charlie cleared her throat. Getting up, she said, “You do whatever it takes, Griff. As the owner of King’s, I stand behind you one hundred percent. In fact, that’s the statement I will release to the press along with yours. I’ll give it to Peg.” At the door now, she looked back at him, asking, “What’s your favorite charity?”

He shrugged. “I give mainly to veteran’s organizations. Soldiers and their families. Why?”

“Those are the ones I’ll donate your salary to. Give Peg the names and we’ll print it, too.”

“Thank you.” How could he ever expect her to forgive him after she learned of his deception in all this? Did the end really justify the means anymore?



***



“It’s my house. Why can’t I see?” Griff asked Priscilla as she shielded him from the front of the house. “It’s been days. And you have this blocked off.”

With her arms outstretched, she tried to stand in his way. “Nope, not yet. Tomorrow you get to see, right before they take pictures.”

He placed his hands around her tiny waist and lifted her.

She shrieked, laughing. “Griff.” She clutched his shoulders now. “You can’t just move me aside.”

“And here I thought I was helping you fly, Pixie,” he teased. Finding her mouth, he gave her a quick, hard peck, and then set her down.

Jabbing him lightly in the ribs, she said, “I’m not puny, see? I can fight with the best of them, McGruff.”

This time he laughed. “Remind me to get someone to teach you self-defense.”

Looking into her sparkling eyes, he felt like he was the one floating on air. Since she began remodeling his house, she beamed with joy. It was infectious.

A sense of disquiet nudged him. For the most part, she’d stayed busy the last few days, holed up in the other rooms, unpacking, moving, and shifting things around to her liking. She’d been immune to his press release on Friday. So far, her mother hadn’t fired back. Not publicly at least. It was only a matter of time.

Now, he filled with pride. Priscilla’s little hints and tips on design placed on King’s website brought in a flood of responses. She had the customers and him waiting with bated breath on the big reveal. It seemed that Priscilla had found her niche.

“And what do you think, I’m going to run into the big bad wolf someday?” She huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

Shaking his head, he said a little too seriously, “Maybe you already have.” Her smile faded and his heart tugged. Reaching out to take her small, soft hand and draw her into his study, he said, “If you won’t show me, then at least tell me what your plans are for the website.”