Michael would have him shipped on the next rocket to Mars if he found out what Logan was planning. Logan had promised to take care of his little sister. No distractions. No guys. And he was breaking both of those promises at this very moment.
Some friend he turned out to be.
“Do me a favor and talk to chef on your way back to the office. Give him a heads up,” Logan said suddenly, dropping his hand from her face and turning away. The act hurt more than he could’ve imagined. His heart ached in protest. “We’ll need all hands on deck for this event if we want to impress anyone. I’ll need you to take lead on this project.”
There was a long moment of silence behind him and Logan wondered if Rachel had silently slipped away without him noticing. But then, he heard her take in a large breath of air and swallow.
“Of course,” she said, her voice shaky. “Whatever you say.”
Logan winced at the sound. Had he crossed a line with her? Did Rachel even want him the way he wanted her?
Inwardly, he kicked himself. She’d just left one job because her boss wouldn’t stop hitting on her and here he was, behaving just the same. He was no better than that greasy manager from her old job.
He really needed to get a grip.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” she said, the sound of her heels slowly moving away. The noise paused and he heard her take another deep breath. “I really enjoy working with you, Logan. I just thought I should tell you that.”
And then she was gone.
Chapter Seven
“We’re finally alone.”
Rachel looked up from her desk to see Logan standing in the doorway to the office, his athletic body leaning against the door frame. The left corner of his mouth curved into a devious grin and his eyes sparkled with humor. She felt her breath catch in her lungs from the sight.
It had been only days ago that she thought he was going to kiss her in this very restaurant. His hand had lovingly cradled her face and she thought she could feel sparks flying between them. But he’d broken that connection very suddenly, avoiding all physical contact with her since then, as if he couldn’t stand to be nearer than two feet to her.
No matter how many times she repeated to herself that Logan Madison was not interested, that didn’t stop her heart from wanting to reach out to him. Clutching the pen in her hand with white knuckles, she willed herself to come to grips with reality.
He didn’t want her.
Logan plopped himself on the desk next to Rachel and shook his blond head with an exhausted sigh. In his hands, he held two dainty white plates with generous slices of lemon cream cake.
“The kitchen staff just left for the night,” he said, placing a plate in front of her. “But I managed to nick us a little reward from the cooler. Your favorite, I believe.”
She nodded, surprised he’d noticed. There was no denying she loved the delicate layers of his newest dessert option and the way that it melted in her mouth. Taking a forkful, she closed her eyes and moaned when it hit her tongue.
“So good,” she breathed, her eyelids fluttering open to see him staring at her, an intensity in his eyes that made her stomach jolt. Her cheeks heated and she swallowed down the bite, touching her lips with her fingertips. “What? Did I get some on my face?”
“No, it’s just that...” The tips of his ears turned red and he turned away. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m exhausted. Lack of sleep makes me lose focus.”
Disappointment filled her mouth with a sour taste. She’d dated enough men to know when someone was interested in her, but Logan Madison was impossible to read. One minute, she thought he was going to sweep her up into his arms and kiss every inch of her and the next, he was back to being stone cold. The flip flop was giving her whiplash and frankly, she was too old to play these games any more.
The end of her internship was coming up quickly. The gala was her last night on the job and then Logan would no longer be her boss. If there was any chance for a relationship after this ended, she needed to know.
“Logan, I feel like we should talk,” she said, putting down her fork. She watched him slowly cut through his own piece of cake, his eyes glued to the dessert.
“Okay. About what?”
She leaned forward, hoping to catch his eye. “The gala is the night after tomorrow. Everything’s set for the catering job. It’s going to be great. They won’t even need my help.”
“That’s fantastic news,” Logan said as he chewed, still avoiding her gaze. “I really can’t thank you enough for handling this project. With Mary Prescott coming in three days, I’ve been up to my elbows in stress.”
“It was my pleasure.” She drummed her fingers on the desk’s surface, her fingernails clicking on the laminated surface. “But you do realize that it’ll be my last day, right? My internship is officially over the day of the gala.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and sighed. “Yes, I realize that.”
“Good. I was wondering if you’d remember.” She inhaled and laughed nervously. This was harder than she thought it would be. Already, she had butterflies dancing around in her stomach. “That means, I won’t be working for you anymore. That I’ll be free. And you won’t be my boss.”
He licked a speck of powdered sugar off his lips and stared silently down at his fork.
“Which also means we can go back to just being Rachel and Logan,” she added, hoping he’d pick up on her line of thought. “Just friends, if that’s what you want. Or not. Do you know what I mean?”
He suddenly looked over at her, his brow wrinkled. “Are you asking me for a job? Because if you want it, it’s yours, Rachel. You don’t even have to ask.”
She sighed and leaned back in the chair, fixing him with a disbelieving smile. He wasn’t getting it. Time to be blunt.
“No, Logan. I’m not asking for a job. I’m asking if you have any feelings for me. Not as a friend, but as something more.”
LOGAN WATCHED RACHEL’S pink lips move. He even heard the words coming out of her mouth, but they didn’t register with him.
“What?”
The dessert plate slipped out of his fingers and landed with a clatter on the floor, shattering into a million pieces. He cursed at himself for being so clumsy and jumped off the desk to begin picking up the shards. It wasn’t until his fingers brushed Rachel’s hand did he realize she’d kneeled on the floor next to him to help.
“I’ve got it,” she said, squeezing his hand briefly before reaching for the last few pieces. Dropping them into the waste bucket nearby, she shifted on her knees in front of him and looked him dead in the eyes. “So, what do you think?”
“About?”
His collar was awfully tight around his neck. He leaned back against the side of the desk and tugged at it. What he wouldn’t give to be in a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt at this time.
“Us?” she asked, a soft smile on her lips. “Do you like me as more than a friend?”
He gulped, the floor beneath his rear end feeling suddenly very hard. This wasn’t the conversation he’d expected to have tonight. The last few days he’d been very successful in keeping Rachel at arm’s length. No physical contact. No flirting. No long, lingering stares into her eyes. It had been torture, but it had been sufficient to make him feel like he was accomplishing his promise. Now, she’d hit him out of nowhere with this question. Obviously, his new approach hadn’t worked.
“Listen, Rachel...” He rubbed the back of his head. “This is all my fault. I know you’ve dealt with crummy bosses hitting on you in the past, but you don’t have to put on an act with me.”
Her nose wrinkled as confusion filled her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I admit that I acted inappropriately a few days ago,” he said, trying his best to return her gaze, when all he wanted to do was escape this awkward conversation and go swing a bat at the batting cages. “I never should’ve touched you like that without your permission. I know we have a lo
ng history between us, but as your boss and your brother’s best friend, I should’ve known better. For that, I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
She shifted closer, causing panic to cloud his head. There was that floral perfume again. It seemed to have the powers of weakening a man’s mind.
“Well, in two days, you’ll no longer be my boss, so I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Yes, but I’ll still be your brother’s best friend,” he said, desperation leaking into his voice. “Do you understand what I’m saying? Michael would kill me if he found out I was no better than your previous bosses. You don’t have to put on this act with me, Rachel. It’s okay. I refuse to be like them.”
She laughed and reached for his hand, taking it gently from the floor where he was bracing himself. Flames shot up his arm as she stroked the back of his hand with the pad of her thumb, her skin smooth and soft.
“You think I’m asking you these questions because that’s what my crappy bosses would’ve wanted?” she asked, a teasing grin on her face. Raising his hand to her mouth, she brushed her lips against one of his scarred knuckles, sending another shot of fire across his skin. “I’m asking because I like you and I feel like there’s something between us. Something good. Logan, you’re nothing like them.”
A groan escaped his lips and he ached to entangle his fingers in her silken brown locks and taste her sweet lips. She had no idea how hard she was making this on him.
“But your brother,” he said, grimacing as Michael’s disapproving expression flashed in his head. “He made me promise that you would have no distractions and this is definitely a distraction.”
She arched an eyebrow and red hot anger flashed in her eyes for the briefest of seconds. “Logan Madison, I am a twenty-six year old woman. My older brother has no say in who or what I go after. I love him to death, but he doesn’t control me. And I want you.”
His stomach jolted with heat and he cursed it for being a traitor. But at the same time, he felt joy ripple throughout his entire body. Rachel Knight wanted him. He’d heard the news from the angel herself.
And he had to admit, she was right. She was a woman, with brains and a strong determination. If she wanted something, she went after it. Not even Michael could stand in her way.
He had never felt more conflicted.
“I see this is coming across as a shock to you,” she said, her eyes narrowing and a tiny smile playing on her lips. “How about this? Tomorrow, let’s have dinner together. Not dinner scraps in your office because we’re working too late, but a real dinner date. Let’s see if there really is something between us. If not, no harm done. In the meantime, I’m going to head home to get some rest. You should, too. This was a long day.”
She leaned toward him, her hand resting on his shoulder for support. For one, alarming moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. From the current state of his nerves, he would’ve had no control over what he did next. He would’ve had to take her into his arms and kiss her exactly how she deserved to be kissed: with tenderness and passion all rolled up into one. Instead, she placed a tantalizingly soft kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment. He closed his eyes, at once disappointed and relieved.
“Good night,” she whispered into his ear.
As she stood to leave, a barrage of thoughts tumbled through his head, too confusing to make any sense. There were a million things he wanted to say to her and nothing seemed to be good enough. Just before she disappeared into the hall, he inhaled sharply and felt his tongue snap back into place for a moment.
“Rachel!” She paused with her hand on the door frame and looked back at him, her eyes dark in the low glow of the office lamp. He cleared his throat, unsure what to say. “Have a good night.”
A warm smile touched her lips and she nodded before disappearing into the dark. Logan slumped against the desk, cradling his head in his hands.
What had he just gotten himself into?
Chapter Eight
Logan rolled his shoulders a few times and stretched his hands above his head, feeling the muscles in his back loosen just the tiniest bit. He looked around his luxury apartment, swallowing down the nerves.
He’d purchased the place about six months ago. All it took was one step inside the gorgeous top floor, corner unit to fall in love. Never mind the vaulted ceilings, cream walls, thick crown molding, and Bolivian wooden floors. This place had a real warmth to it. It felt like a home.
He was light years away from that trailer home with the squeaky cabinet doors and leaky toilet. Every time he walked in the door of his new apartment, he was reminded of how far he’d come. He liked that feeling.
A knock came at the door, dispelling his momentary calm. He rushed to answer it, yanking the gray steel door open to stare at his visitor. Rachel had arrived in a light-weight purple skirt that swooshed around her knees and showed off her shapely calves above black ankle boots. She wore a thin white blouse with a camisole underneath and a thin silver chain around her neck. Her hair had been pulled up into a knot at the base of her neck, with curled tendrils falling around her face. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew the words would come out as nothing more than gibberish.
She smiled sweetly at him, her pink tinted lips forming a nervous grin. “Hi.”
He worked his jaw and clutched the door tightly. She was actually here. In his home. “Hi.”
“Dinner at your place was a good idea,” she said walking past him and into his domain. “It’s nice to get away from the restaurant.”
He swallowed again, his skin threatening to burst into flames from all the nerves. The last person he’d ever expected to see in his home was Rachel Knight, but he had to admit, she looked good standing there in the well-lit foyer.
Maybe she thought this was a good idea, but he still wasn’t on board. As much as he wanted to spend time with Rachel outside of their work capacity, a tiny voice inside his head screamed the word traitor over and over again. This was a betrayal of the utmost kind. Men had killed for less in medieval times. Logan deserved his head on a pike.
“I’ve just started cooking dinner. Have a seat,” he told her, taking her purse from her hands, their fingers brushing and sending electricity shooting up his arm.
“You’re cooking?” she asked, a brilliant smile lighting up her lips. Her eyes glowed with humor when she looked at him. “And here I thought I was just getting treated to carryout. I didn’t know you cooked, Logan Madison.”
“I don’t know if I cook, either,” he said with a sideways grin. He liked it when she teased him. “But there’s always a first for everything. How does breakfast for dinner sound? It was my favorite meal my mother made us when I was a kid. And coincidentally, the only meal that didn’t end up in a giant ball of flames on the stove.”
“Sounds delicious.” She pushed the sleeves of her blouse up to her elbows and looked expectantly at the kitchen. “What can I do to help? Put me to work.”
Once again, Logan was reminded of how different Rachel was from all the women he’d dated before. He would’ve thought that a girl who grew up so privileged wouldn’t be accustomed to getting her hands dirty, but here she was once again, diving into work. After directing her toward the ingredients he’d laid out for the pancakes and the shiny red mixer stand, she got down to business and began spooning out the flour.
As Logan began to work beside her, cracking eggs into a bowl, her large brown eyes gazed over the gourmet kitchen and the open living and dining spaces. She seemed to take in every detail, from the elaborate fireplace mantel to the cream colored couches. Her eyes swept up to the ceiling high above them and then back down toward him.
“This place is simply amazing,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “So much better than my tiny studio apartment. I’ll bet you could fit ten of mine in here.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying to focus on the eggs, instead of the beautiful woman standing beside him. It was a battle he wasn’t winning. “It was
on the market for $1.4 mil, but my realtor got them down to $1.2. She said it was a really good deal for the area.”
He wasn’t sure why he was spouting dollar amounts. He tended to ramble about useless facts when he was nervous and boy, did Rachel Knight make him nervous.
“Well, it’s beautiful,” she said, awe entering her voice. With the cinnamon shaker paused over the mixing bowl, she smiled shyly at him and cocked a hip. “I have to say, I was worried you were going to back out on me tonight. You weren’t exactly very chatty at work today.”
He grimaced slightly and spared her a quick glance. Truth be told, he’d been waging a war inside his head all day and putting space between them was the only way he could keep his head clear. But logic had won out in the end.
Have dinner with Rachel at his place, away from work and distractions. Prove to them both that this was a giant mistake. Put an end to this thing they had between them. Save his friendship with Michael and his working relationship with Rachel. That, he could handle.
If only Rachel would agree.
RACHEL WATCHED LOGAN mix the omelets, his wavy blond head bowed over the bowl. He’d put on a pair of navy slacks for their date and a Robin-egg blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his shapely forearms. She could tell he was nervous. He’d been nervous since she saw him this morning at the restaurant. It was a different emotion from him. He was usually so steady.
“It was a busy day,” he said into the egg mixture. “A lot on my mind.”
“That’s understandable.” Rachel stole a slice of red bell pepper from his vegetable cuttings and plopped herself onto the counter next to him, wanting to be nearer. “You’ve built an amazing restaurant, Logan. You should be proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”
He stopped whisking to look at her. “You think so?”
“Definitely.” She bit into the crisp vegetable and grinned. “It’s going to be great.”
The Billionaire and the Waitress: (Billionaire Matchmaker - Book 2) Page 5
