(Reagan’s POV)
What the hell was Alexander’s father doing on my doorstep? That was the only question I had in my head as I stood beside my dad at the door.
“Mr. Griffin, what a pleasant surprise, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, attempting to plaster the most genuine smile on my face that I could muster.
He gave me a curt nod at my greeting, “Hello Reagan, I was wondering if I might have a word with you,” he glanced at my father briefly before looking at me again, “alone.”
The look on my father’s face when he said that was most certainly not a happy one as he spoke, “Whatever you have to speak with my daughter about, I believe that you can still do it with me present.”
Dad looked like steam was about to blow out of his ears and knowing Mr. Griffin’s personality, Dad’s rage would go from zero to ten in no time. I placed a hand on his arm and he looked down at me, “It’s okay Dad.”