Heart Strings

by Melanie Moreland

  “I don’t like the way he touched you.”

  “At least he does touch me, Charles. He holds me and kisses me. Comforts me when I need it. When was the last time you did that?”

  “You will stop seeing him.”

  I crossed my arms. “No, I will not.” I held my head high. “He is a teacher. A sweet, caring man who looks after me. I will not give that up because you have some sort of preconceived idea in your head about him. That’s your problem, not mine.”

  Our gazes clashed, his anger battling with my indignation.

  “Take away every account, Charles. Fire me. But I’m not giving up Logan.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “This conversation is not over.”

  “It is. Otherwise, I will have to talk to HR about my boss overstepping into my personal life.”

  He spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. Seconds later, Logan’s strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight to his chest.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured in my ear.

  I settled back into him, his warmth welcome. “Done what?”

  “Provoked him.”

  I turned and met his eyes. “He was insulting you. Us. Making assumptions about you.”

  “He was being, ah, protective?” he asked, sounding dubious.

  “He was being an ass,” I snarled.

  “You stuck up for me. For us.”

  “Yes.”

  He slid his hand around the back of my neck, his long fingers stroking the skin. He bent close to my ear, his breath hot against my neck. “Do you know how that makes me feel? Hearing what you said, watching the way you went toe-to-toe with your father over me? No one has stood up for me in a long time, my Snow Queen.” He flicked his tongue against my lobe. “You amaze me.”

  He claimed my mouth in an ardent kiss. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, then met his eyes. Dark, intense, and steady. Focused solely on me. It didn’t surprise me that my father would have a negative reaction to Logan, but it was still embarrassing.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Do you think they noticed?” I asked, worried about our hosts.

  “No. Carmen’s back was to you, and he went to speak to someone else. I don’t think he even noticed your father here.”

  “Good.” I sighed, suddenly weary. Logan held out his hand.

  “Dance with me. Forget what just happened and let me hold you.”

  I let him lead me onto the dance floor, and I slid into his embrace. It was a soothing sensation as his arms closed around me. It felt like coming home. As if I was meant to be there.

  Perhaps I was.

  Chapter 14

  Lottie

  I was decidedly nervous the next morning. But nothing happened at the staff meeting. My father spoke as usual, getting his updates. I thought his voice was extra cool when he spoke to me, and he didn’t meet my gaze. But otherwise, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I prepared for the meeting with Carmen, making sure I had everything I required. My phone buzzed with a text, and I glanced at my screen as I headed to the meeting.

  Logan: Go get ’em, my Snow Queen.

  Logan’s simple words made me smile.

  We had stayed only a short while after my father left. I spoke with Carmen and Roxanne and met Alfred, the owner of Ravaged Records. I found them all articulate and passionate, and I was looking forward to our meeting the next day. I confessed to Logan I was getting a headache from the loud music and no doubt the lingering stress of the confrontation with my father

  Logan and I took a cab back to my place. Then, the degenerate man my father thought he was had poured me a bath and rubbed my shoulders and aching head. He tucked me into bed, holding me close until I fell asleep. He left me a note on my pillow telling me to have a good day and he would see me tonight at the subway.

  I had to blink away the tears in the early morning light. He was filled with so much goodness. It upset me terribly my father only saw what he chose to see. The shaggy hair, the beard, the rougher-looking side to Logan. If he sat down and spoke with him, he would discover Logan’s intelligence and warmth. He would see how he cared for me. Sadly, though, I wondered if he ever would.

  We arrived at the restaurant, and I shook my head to clear it. I needed my game face on for this meeting. I planned to nail it.

  Carmen sat back, sipping his coffee. “I like your ideas.”

  Alfred hummed in agreement. “Out of the box. I like people who think out of the box.”

  I smiled as I shuffled some papers back in order. “I think if I approach these investors with a plan like this, we won’t have any trouble getting you the capital you want. You can proceed with your merger, add to the building, and sign more talent. They’ll make back their money, and you’ll still have controlling interest.” I paused. “And a very successful business.”

  They looked pleased. Roxanne beamed at them, her expression enthusiastic. “I firmly believe Ravaged Roadside is going to be the force behind indie artists.”

  “Admittedly, I don’t know much about the music business, but I agree. Your plan is sound, you have great people, amazing talent from what I heard last night, and with the right backing, you’ll have a solid company.”

  Phones rang out, ringtones filling the air, and both Roxanne and Alfred muttered apologies and answered their phones. I chuckled and met Carmen’s gaze.

  “I’m excited by the future,” he said. “When I started Roadside, I had a vision that one day I could help artists find their voice. You’re going to help make that come true.”

  “I will certainly try. I have a small group of investors I think will be a good fit.” Younger, more open-minded investors I had cultivated during my time with my father’s company—but I didn’t voice that out loud.

  “I enjoyed talking to Logan last night. I thought about what you said, and you’re right. I have seen him at a few places.” Carmen lifted an eyebrow. “Although when I tried to pin him down, he informed me he only sings for you these days.”

  I chuckled. “Me and whoever else is in the subway when I get home at night.”

  At Carmen’s quizzical gaze, I explained, giving him the briefest details. “He serenades me. That’s how we met.”

  “I recall his work was original.”

  “It is. His talent is amazing, but he prefers to write rather than be in the spotlight.”

  “That’s rare these days.” He rubbed his chin. “This is unusual, but would you be willing to give me his contact information?”

  I paused. Carmen waved his hand. “Get his okay, of course. But I would like to talk to him.” Then he flashed me a grin. “And this won’t affect our working relationship at all. No conflict of interest or whatever else you’re thinking. This is me talking to someone I met at an event. Who caught my professional interest.”

  I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll ask him.”

  Logan frowned. “Why does he want to talk to me?”

  I sipped my wine and pulled a hand through my hair. “I assume to ask you about your music. Or maybe where you get your hair done. I don’t know,” I teased.

  He set down his bowl, wiping his mouth. “Smartass,” he shot back, squeezing my leg.

  I grinned, settling into the sofa cushion. Logan had met me at the subway, and we came to my condo. I had been awake early enough, I’d thrown together a stew in the crockpot, and it was ready when we arrived. I refused to let him take me to the diner yet again. He polished off two bowls plus most of a loaf of bread, thoroughly enjoying the simple dinner I had made.

  He drained his water, took the bowls to the kitchen, and returned. “Okay, give him my number.”

  “Why do you look so torn? This could be the start of an opportunity for you—you told me you dreamed of doing something with your music one day.”

  “I always thought I’d do it on my own, I suppose. Not have my girlfriend hook me up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You�
��re an idiot. Carmen remembered seeing you. He remembered your music. I’m simply the connection. You did do it. Now stop being so stubborn and shortsighted.”

  In seconds, I was under him on the sofa, his large frame pinning me down. “Stubborn?” he growled. “Shortsighted?” He nipped at my neck. “An idiot?” He slid his hand along my arms. “You’re awfully lippy for someone the size of a hobbit.”

  I giggled as his hands wandered, his fingers ghosting over my skin, finding the sensitive areas to tickle and tease. “Listen, Hagrid,” I gasped, trying to get away from his tickling fingers. “I’m just saying…” I trailed off, panting as his mouth followed his fingers, his lips hot and wet on my skin.

  He lifted his head. “You’re mixing up your movies, Lottie. Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings are not the same. I guess I’ll have to kidnap you and make you binge-watch them with me on the weekend. Teach you.”

  I moaned as he slid his mouth lower. “Yes,” I pleaded. “Teach me everything, Logan.”

  “Oh, I intend to,” he promised, hooking his fingers into my waistband. “It’s going to be an intensive lesson, Lottie. Very hands-on.” He paused. “Very lengthy.”

  I bucked against his hand. “I plan on getting a gold star.”

  He winked. “I bet you will. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Then I lost myself to him.

  I was on a high the next day, setting up meetings, creating the prospectus to give potential investors. I also set up consultations with the other two projects I was assigned, although they were far more cut-and-dried. A few calls to my usual investors would take care of them easily, I expected.

  I also contacted Carmen with Logan’s number. He replied quickly, thanking me.

  No doubt he was loath to give it, his text read.

  How did you know? I replied.

  I know artists and their pride.

  I had to chuckle. I recalled Logan’s anger over the money that first night. His insistence on paying for everything the day we spent together. His hesitance in granting me permission to give Carmen his number. Carmen had Logan pegged perfectly, although I thought it was more than the artist in him that made Logan that way.

  Good luck, was my response.

  My phone rang, and I was thrilled to see the name on the screen.

  “Brianna!” I exclaimed as I lifted the receiver. “You’re home!”

  “I am,” she replied, sounding amused.

  “How was the trip?”

  “Boring.”

  I laughed, leaning back in my chair. “Only you can go to the Mediterranean and call it boring.”

  “It got better when I broke up with Dan.”

  I groaned. “Another one, Brianna? Really?” I hadn’t fibbed to my mother when I told her that Brianna always had man trouble.

  “He was a jerk. I caught him with one of the hotel staff. I dumped him and left. I didn’t pay the bill either. I decided he could handle that.”

  I chuckled. Brianna was wealthy. Exceedingly so, which made her a target at times. She had the worst luck with men. I always thought she was so desperate to be loved that she gravitated to the wrong type. She was looking to belong—and most of the time, they were looking for her bank account.

  “How about you?” she asked. “Life as riveting as always?” Brianna knew I hated my job. She also knew why I did it. She admitted she didn’t understand it, but she supported me as best she could.

  We had met at university when we’d both tried to grab the same sandwich at the café. It was the last one, and we glared at each other for a moment, neither of us wanting to relinquish the only decent sandwich they made.

  Then she had grinned, her green eyes dancing. “Share?”

  “I’ll get some chips and pop,” I agreed.

  We’d been friends ever since.

  She was wild and bohemian. She ran her own boutique and traveled constantly, finding treasures to fill the shelves. It wasn’t a huge moneymaker, but she loved it and didn’t really need the money. I missed her when she was away, but I understood her inability to stay in one place very long.

  “Ah…I met someone,” I admitted, thinking of Logan.

  “Please tell me he isn’t one of the parent-approved stiff suits?”

  I shuddered, thinking of the few men my parents had tried setting me up with. Dull, uninspired men my father knew. Successful, well-off, and all with the personality of a wet dishrag. But every one in keeping with the lifestyle they wanted for me, which, in their eyes, made them perfect.

  “No,” I assured her. “Definitely not approved. I met him on my own.”

  “All right. We need dinner. I need details. I’ll meet you at your place at seven.”

  “Oh, ah, Logan was coming over.”

  “Awesome, even better. I’ll get to meet him and give you my approval. I’ll pick up Chinese on the way over.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I hung up and glanced out the window. Snowflakes were falling, light and gentle, drifting on the wind. It wasn’t a storm, more like a light dusting. Enough to cover the gray mounds on the sides of the roads and make everything fresh and beautiful again. I would convince Logan to go for another walk tonight once Brianna left. He loved walking as much as I did.

  I sent him a quick text, explaining the added guest, and he replied with a smiley face and the words, “Can’t wait.”

  I glanced at my phone, idly wondering if I should call my mother. It was Thursday, which normally meant it was dinner with my parents. But I hadn’t heard from her, and my father hadn’t said a word. I knew better than to simply show up at their place—my mother had to stop being angry with me first. Which meant she was waiting for me to apologize. I reached to pick up the phone, then changed my mind. Maybe it would be better to wait and let her cool down. Hopefully if I gave her a little more time, she would be ready to listen, and we would mend fences. I wondered if my father had said anything to her about last night.

  I picked up the phone and called Lorie. She answered quickly, always efficient.

  “Hello, Charlotte.”

  “Hey, Lorie, the party next month—can I change my attendance to add a plus-one?”

  “Of course. Is Brianna coming with you?”

  I chuckled. Brianna loved the holiday party. Mostly because she loved to rile up my parents and flirt shamelessly with the single men. With her golden-blond hair, green eyes, and the lithesome figure she liked to show off, she caused quite a stir. If her parents weren’t such an important investor to my father, he would no doubt tell me she wasn’t welcome, but because of the status of her family, he allowed it. Unhappily. He always held the party mid-December so as to not interfere with all the other events that happened closer to the holidays. I personally thought he did it early simply to get it over with. It was not his favorite night of the year, but I looked forward to it.

  “No, um, I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

  “Oh,” she breathed. “I didn’t know.”

  “We’re pretty new, but I thought he’d enjoy it.”

  “I’ll mark you down for two.”

  “Thanks, Lorie.”

  I hung up and got back to work. I needed to be out by six tonight.

  I heard him as I stepped off the train. The notes of his guitar and the timbre of his voice. My shoulders relaxed, and I rounded the corner, stopping to look at him. He was in his usual spot, his gaze locked where he knew I would appear. He smiled, his dimple showing, and he directed his voice my way. I approached the bench, knowing he expected me to sit and listen to him before we left. It was his gift to me. I spied Brianna sitting, staring at him in awe, and I crossed to where she was seated.

  “Hey,” I greeted her.

  She looked up and yanked on my sleeve. “Oh my god, sit down. Listen to this guy. He is amazing!”

  I tried not to laugh. “Yes, he is.”

  “I haven’t been able to move. He’s mesmerizing. Is he here a lot?” she asked, not taking her eyes off him.

  “Yes.


  “I’m moving. I need to be at this station every day, then.” She glanced over at me. “I mean, seriously. He is hot.”

  I sighed, meeting his gaze. “He is. He makes every day better.” He winked and smiled, and I couldn’t help my returning grin.

  She glanced at Logan, then back at me. “Holy shit.”

  “What?”

  “That’s him?” she breathed out. “That’s the unapproved man?”

  I hummed in reply, not wanting to miss a moment of Logan’s song.

  Logan stopped playing and, in seconds, strode toward us. He set down his guitar case and bent, brushing his mouth over mine. “Hello, my Snow Queen.”

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  “Oh my god,” Brianna groaned.

  I chuckled and introduced them. Logan shook her hand, and she gazed up at him. “What are you doing playing in a subway station?”

  He responded by cupping my cheek and stroking my face with his thumb. “I play for her.”

  Brianna sighed. “I’m going to get dinner, and I’ll meet you at your place.” She stood and wagged her finger at me. “You have a lot to tell me, and you don’t get to leave a word out.”

  Logan tugged on my hand. “We’ll walk with you. It’s dark, and you shouldn’t be out alone.”

  She stared at him as if he were a figment of her imagination. “Sexy, talented, and a gentleman? My god, you’ve hit the jackpot, Lottie.”

  I stood, and we walked behind her. I squeezed Logan’s hand. “Yes, I have.”

  Over spicy beef and sticky, delicious noodles, Brianna grilled Logan. What he did. Where he grew up. How we met. What grade he taught. Where he lived. I was currently laughing at her last question. Asked with her chin propped up in one hand, the other clutching an egg roll.

  “Do you happen to have a twin brother? Even an older one. I’d take him.”

  Logan chuckled as he chewed a dripping wonton, wiping the sweet-and-sour sauce off his lips. He swallowed and picked up his water glass, shaking his head. “Just me.”