Chapter Eleven
Griffin
Griffin sipped his champagne, which was tough because he wanted to drain his glass in one long gulp. Bullshit artist or not, he could have gotten them all in deeper trouble by trying to impersonate a litigator or whatever he was doing, yet somehow here they were.
Duncan leaned across the aisle and clinked his glass with Griffin’s, then reached around to the seat in front of him and did the same with Noah. Then he threw back his bubbly like it was a shot of whisky.
“I thought you said you had a concussion,” Griffin said. “Should you be, you know, drinking?”
Duncan waved a hand. “Possible concussion. I’d have to go to hospital to confirm, but”—he shook his empty champagne flute—“I’m feeling quite excellent right now. And, mates—that was simply brilliant. I mean, fucking brilliant.”
Noah turned in his seat to face them.
“Which part? Us barging in on that bullshit episode of Law and Order and helping you figure out your shit, or Reed snagging us a free upgrade to first class with his threat of litigation?”
“All of it,” Duncan said. “The whole bloody day—well, since you two arrived. It was absolute shite before that, but now?” He raised his glass as a flight attendant walked by to offer him a refill. “Aye. This is how a day should begin for a man about to get married. It’s all gonna work out, lads. I can feel it.”
Duncan’s smile fell.
“Then why aren’t you smiling anymore?” Noah asked.
Duncan sighed. “Because maybe I don’t feel it, but I’m trying to convince myself I do. I know Elaina loves me, but I think she’s been waiting for me to grow up, to not be the guy who wakes up on the grass outside his flat because he was too drunk to find his key.”
“That’s not what happened today,” Griffin said.
“Aye. But isn’t this some version of it? Duncan McAllister getting himself into a right mess? I don’t want to be a mess she has to clean up.”
“You’re not a mess,” Griffin told him. “You’re the guy who not only got the girl but got the girl’s father to trust you enough to give you a really great job. Everything’s fine now,” he assured his friend, hoping he was telling the truth. “But you could have used my phone when I texted Maggie.”
Duncan scrubbed a hand over his face, his fingers stopping to rest on the growing bruise beneath his eye. Then he shook his head.
“You told her I’m all right, yeah? That I’m on my way? I need to do the rest in person, face-to-face. Today was important,” he said. “Almost more so than the wedding, what with our families meeting for the first time.” Duncan laughed, but this wasn’t the typical merriment Griffin remembered of his friend. This laugh sounded bitter, a harshness to Duncan’s tone he hadn’t heard before.
“Hey, man. She loves you. She said yes to marrying you. And today? Today wasn’t your fault.”
Duncan shrugged. “Wasn’t it, though? I waited till the last minute for the tartan, got on the latest possible plane I could so I could stay in Aberdeen a bit longer. One day earlier, and this wouldn’t have happened.”
Noah shook his head. “You don’t know that. There could have been a bigger asshole on yesterday’s flight.” All three of them chuckled, and Griffin could feel this interaction getting into dangerously emotional territory. “The way I see it,” Noah added, “is that we’re all fucking clueless. There’s no rule book or manual for any of this. Best we can do is make up for the times we mess up by getting the big things right.”
Duncan relaxed into his seat.
“Elaina, she’ll be mad, aye,” he told them. “She’ll be mad, but if I get it all right from here on out, you’re saying that will make up for it?”
Noah nodded.
Griffin wasn’t so sure—not about Duncan, but about how each day he lied to Maggie, he was making a bigger and bigger mess. He swirled the pale gold liquid in his glass. He should be proud of what he’d done—getting them all on the flight back to Thessaloniki, with upgrades. But all it did was remind him that he’d been playing a part. Putting on a show. And he realized that’s exactly what he was doing with Maggie. He could use her migraine as the excuse for not immediately thrusting the envelope in her face, but what about all those hours on the plane he had her undivided attention? He needed to say something, to get this off his chest and out into the open before it was too late.
“Oi, Griffin?” Duncan roused him from his thoughts. “My lad Noah says Elaina’s going to forgive me. You’re supposed to be helping me celebrate.”
Griffin set the flute down and looked at Duncan, all his bravado for their Athens adventure having melted away.
“Maggie—she’s okay, yeah?” Duncan asked.
Griffin nodded. “So this is, like, the sharing hour now?”
Duncan didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes and waited.
“Fine,” he said. Maybe he could stand to get a little advice from his friends. “I took a shot in the dark and won a fellowship with AmeriCorps, the place I work for now. It’s extremely competitive, and I wasn’t expecting to get it. I just wanted to see if I could, you know?” Both Duncan and Noah nodded. “But I got it. And now that it’s mine, I want it. But if I accept, I have to move to D.C. for a year this fall.”
Okay, so maybe he was supposed to say all of that to Maggie, but what the hell? A guy could only take so much, and even if this didn’t solve his problem, it felt good to say out loud, to admit that he wanted this.
Duncan emptied his glass again. “See! This day is back on track. Good things for everyone!”
He clapped Griffin on the shoulder, but Griffin shook his head.
“Maggie doesn’t know,” he said.
“Why not?” Noah asked.
He took in a measured breath. It wasn’t his place to tell them about Maggie’s medical past, even if she survived a brain aneurysm and the surgery to remove it. God, she really was the strongest person he knew, so why couldn’t he say to her what he just said to them?
“I don’t know,” he admitted, throwing his head back against his seat. Then he groaned. “Shit. I’m ruining your moment, Duncan. We’re celebrating your freedom, right? I’m sorry, man. Maybe Keating has more wisdom to lighten the mood.”
Noah averted his eyes and cleared his throat. Well shit, Keating was hiding something, too.
“Out with it,” Duncan said, nudging Noah’s shoulder. “We’re all getting in touch with our feelings, Keating. Your turn.”
Noah pulled his messenger bag out from under the seat in front of him. He reached inside an inner pocket and retrieved a small velvet box.
“Well, bloody fucking hell,” Duncan said under his breath.
A tiny weight lifted off Griffin’s chest. He realized in his unfortunate encounter with him on their last flight how much Noah was willing to sacrifice for Jordan. He’d already let go of any mistrust he had for the guy. But this? This confirmed what an ass Griffin had been to ever doubt how much Noah cared for his friend, and for the first time since he’d left Maggie in Thessaloniki, he’d smiled and meant it. No pretense. No show. He was just damned happy for Jordan—and for Noah, too.
“Congratulations,” he said, raising his glass.
“She still has to say yes,” Noah said, but he raised his flute as well.
“Mates, we have turned this shite day around. Jordan is going to say yes. You and Maggie are going to figure out this fellowship thing, and Elaina is going to marry me—after she forgives me, of course.”
If Duncan could turn a day like today around, then Griffin could get over whatever the hell was holding him back. He wasn’t the guy he was before he met Maggie. He was the version of himself she made him want to be. And that meant laying all his cards on the table no matter what the outcome—even if one possible outcome could destroy him. He owed her his best self.