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Chapter Eight
Griffin
When I stopped at McKenna’s office, she was tied up on a conference call. Haven was deep into design planning.
A moment later, I walked into the suite where Rhys’s office was. I knew instantly he wasn’t there because his door was closed and there was no light shining underneath the door. There was no sign of Tish either.
My brain catalogued details, assessing she must be somewhere nearby because a jacket was hanging on the back of her chair with a purse sitting on her desk. Just as I was contemplating that it would definitely be ridiculous if I lingered here, I heard footsteps in the hallway.
A few seconds later, Tish walked through the doorway. She had a box in her arms, and I reflexively stepped toward her. “Do you need help with that?”
She shook her head and stopped beside the chair in the waiting area to set the box down. “Thank you though,” she replied as she straightened.
For a moment, it was as if her mind went completely blank. Her gaze became unfocused.
“Tish?” I took a step closer.
When she didn’t reply and swayed a little on her feet, I eased her into the chair beside her, waiting a few moments. As before when I met her on the side of the highway, it wasn’t long before her eyes blinked open.
Her gaze focused on me and she let out an annoyed huff. “Ugh.” Her voice sounded tired. “Could you bring me my purse?”
I hurried over to fetch it and return it to her. Her hands were shaking a little when she tried to unzip it.
“Do you want me to get that for you?” I asked, sensing she was frustrated that I was even there.
The sound of her swallowing was audible inside the quiet room. “I’ve got it.” She yanked the zipper open and pulled out a bottle of medication.
I glanced around before walking over to the small water cooler and getting her some water from it. A few minutes later, she had taken the medication and drained the small paper cup of water that I had handed her.
I finally asked the obvious. “Do these happen often?”
Tish lifted her eyes to mine. “Not really. I’m fine,” she insisted. “Like I told you before, I have these syncope episodes. For me, all they know is I experience a rapid drop in blood pressure. That medication I just took helps with that.”
A powerful wave of protectiveness crashed through me. I didn’t like thinking about Tish handling these by herself. I didn’t want to imagine what could’ve happened. My mind skipped back to the day she’d fallen in the harbor.
My jaw tightened. I forced myself to breathe in slowly, to shackle the urge to wrap her in my arms, to do everything necessary to keep her safe. I had to remind myself we were sitting in an office and she was perfectly safe.
“Are you okay now?” I finally asked.
She cleared her throat and nodded. Her face was pale and her eyes looked wary.
“Are you finishing up for the day?” I asked.
She gestured to the box in the chair beside her. “I wanted to bring that in before tomorrow morning. I’m scanning in some old files so we can get rid of the paper files.”
I eyed the box. “Do you need me to put that somewhere then? Maybe on the floor by your desk?”
The color was returning to her skin. Her lips curled in a small smile. “I can handle it, Griffin, but thank you.”
I smiled back at her. “I’m sure you can, but humor me. Just tell me where to put it.”
I could tell she was still tired when she gestured toward the floor beside her desk. “Just over there against the wall. I’m doing a box a day. More than that, and I’ll lose my mind.”
I chuckled. “I can’t even imagine scanning papers all day.”
“That’s why I do a box a day, so it’s not all day.”
I set the box where she directed me. She was standing when I turned around. I walked to her side quickly. “Take it easy…”
