by R. C. Martin
“No. This phone call isn’t optional. Sorry for giving you that impression.” Trevor smirks at me and I smile back before returning my focus to the man on the other end of the line. “Did you ask Logan out on a date last night?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” I ask, incredulously. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Daphne—word choice?” I roll my eyes and scoff. He hears the scoff, probably imagines the eye roll, and accurately considers that as my reply. “To answer your question, yes. I did. I was actually going to call you about that later. I think I have an idea about what we could do tomorrow night, but I wanted to run it by you first. I need to make sure whatever I plan, she’ll have a good time.”
“Wh—I—but—uh…” Trevor grins at me before reaching for my phone. He puts Roman on speaker and then signals for me to keep talking. If you can call my sputtering talking. “Okay. Stop. Start over. Since when do you give a shit about Logan?”
“Since now.”
I can practically hear his nonchalant shrug through the phone. I run my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath. I need to keep a clear head if I expect any of this to start making sense. “Rome, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Daph. I think I like her.”
“But—why?”
“You ask as if you can’t understand why I would,” he chuckles. “She’s your best friend—you must know what I see.”
“Except, she’s been my best friend for four years and you’ve never been able to stand her before.”
“You’re right. The truth is, it’s hard to explain. She’s different, now. I don’t think I wanted to see it until the other day. Then you told me that she’s ready to start dating and, I don’t know, it made me wonder…”
“It made you wonder what?”
“If she’s ready to put herself out there, if she’s willing to try and be in a relationship, why aren’t I? I mean—I haven’t really been with anyone since Kathryn. There was Addie, but we all know that was doomed from the start. Besides, it wasn’t really more than a song and a kiss.”
I’m silent for a moment.
“Is this some twisted coping mechanism that I don’t know about? Date the girl who wanted the guy who’s the boyfriend of the girl you wanted? Rome, do you see how crazy this is?”
“Whatever. The point is, if Logan, of all people, is going to brave the dating world, I should too.”
I knit my eyebrows together and shake my head at Trevor, showcasing the extent of my bewilderment. He looks just as confused as I feel and confirms my suspicion with a feeble shrug. “Look, if you’re lonely, don’t you think you could find someone else to charm? The last thing Logan needs is some guy using her. Not to mention, you’re not a scum bag. You can get any girl you want, you don’t have to pretend to like her to get your feet wet again.”
“Sis, I’m not pretending. I’m being open minded. If four years of me blowing her off hasn’t discouraged her from flirting with me, then maybe there really could be something between us. I’ll never know if I don’t give it a try.
“Listen, I have to go. Really. I need to get ready for work. I know the thought of the two of us together is hard to believe, but I’m not using her. I’m trying to get to know her better. I’ll prove it. Saturday night. I’ll text you when I’ve finalized the details. I love you.”
“Love you, too. But—”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
He hangs up before I can squeeze in another word.
I feel like I’ve entered into an alternate reality. Or maybe this is a bad dream. Or maybe a huge practical joke.
Or…maybe they’re serious.
I groan and bury my face in my hands. This is too much to think about first thing in the morning.
“Come on,” Trevor begins to say, rubbing his hand across my back. “What do you say we have some breakfast? I’ll make coffee, you make…pancakes?” he asks hopefully. I can’t deny that coffee does sound amazing right now. While Trevor can’t cook a damn thing to save his life, he does make a mean cup of Joe. “Coooome on,” he coaxes, kissing my bare shoulder. “We’re not going to solve this murder mystery without sustenance.”
“Murder mystery?” I chuckle, pulling my face from my hands.
“Well, yeah. We both know that the two of them on a date can only end one way. My bet is on Princess Pink, in the library, with the candlestick. What’s your hypothesis?” he asks, climbing out of bed.
“Hmm. I’d wager on Emperor Emerald, in the kitchen, with the rope.”
“Ah. Kinky,” he replies with a grin, offering me his hand.
“Ew! This is my brother we’re talking about,” I laugh, swatting his hand away as I join him.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads us out of my room. “However this ends, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow night.”
“I suppose we will. Bring a wrench, just in case.”
“You got it.”
I got home too late and didn’t get enough sleep. Thankfully, there were a few things that put me in such a good mood this morning that my lack of rest was quickly cured—even without my daily dose of coffee.
Roman was the first person I thought of when I woke up. The memory of last night’s act still has me smiling. We were just so good. Better than I thought we could be. I’d even go so far as to say that his convincing portrayal of a guy who’s potentially interested in me makes me like him a little more than I did before. Also, seeing as how he’s in charge of date planning, I’ll admit that I’m a little excited to see what he comes up with. Fake or not, this will be the first date I’ve been on in years. I plan on enjoying it.
Then, of course, there was the evidence of Trevor’s sleepover. The thought didn’t even cross my mind that we slept under the same roof until I went into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. That’s when I saw it. The peanut butter left out on the counter. We keep peanut butter and jelly around for two reasons. First, it’s the only thing Trevor can “cook.” Second, it’s the only thing that Daphne will eat when she’s horribly sad or in a gigantic fight with her man.
When I left her last night, she was consumed with her writing, so I knew there was no chance she was in need of the classic staple. Upon finding the evidence, I snuck into her room before I left. Or, rather, I started to sneak in. As soon as I had the door cracked open, I saw his pile of clothes on the floor. That was all the confirmation I needed.
Roman’s and my victory was more than a great success. Trevor went running to Daphne as soon as he left the bar—I’d say that’s a roaring success.
Last, but certainly not least, it’s Friday. No matter how much I love what I do, Friday is still glorious all on its own. I love the weekends. Granted, I used to love them because it meant college football and late nights out, where as now I love them because I can work on my home remodel and hang out with my bestie…
I’m not turning into an old maid, I promise myself, shaking away the idea that such a truth could be even remotely possible.
“Please don’t tell me you’re cold,” says Miranda, pulling me from my thoughts as she adjusts the AC in her car. “It’s hot as hell in here!”
I smile and assure her that I’m far from cold. Today is annoyingly warm; so warm, in fact, that I left my cardigan at the office. Thank god for sleeveless dresses, sandal heels, and the extinction of the rule that women must wear pantyhose when showing off their legs. I don’t know how women did it. I’ll agree to tights—and only if the temperature is below forty degrees.
“So, how is the Archibald project coming along?”
“We’ve mostly been tossing ideas back and forth, so far. I think Judah’s trying to nail down a schedule for us to work with, since they want to keep the hotel open during the remodel.”
“Logan, you know I’m just fishing for the scoop on Judah, right?”
I tsk at her as I wag my finger in disapproval. “What would Malcolm say?” I tease, knowing that she’s completely loyal to her fianc
é.
She laughs and smacks my knee. “Come on! Since I wasn’t picked for the project, I have to live vicariously through you—my sexy, single friend. So, give me some dirt! You’ve got ten minutes before we arrive, so spill.”
Even though I’ve been working with Judah, Kim, and Brittany for the last week, I’ve also been finishing up my previous project with Rick and Miranda. Today we’re scheduled to meet with our clients and Edda for the final walk through. We’re on our way right now. They’ll be officially moving in on Monday. I’ve been looking forward to this for a while. I’m so proud of my contribution to this project and even more so to be representing Eddalyn’s Interior and the great work she’s known for.
Edda and Rick are coming from a different meeting and plan on joining us there, which leaves Miranda and I alone to gossip. Not that I have anything particularly juicy to disclose. I never told the girls about the comment he made about Roman the day that we met. Since then, he’s been strictly professional. At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of his flip-flopped demeanor. Then I decided that I wasn’t going to read into it. It’s better this way. Less complicated and definitely less confusing.
“There really isn’t any dirt to tell,” I admit. “The most I’ve learned about him is that he likes to get in early so that he can close himself in his office and get his tedious tasks out of the way before he faces the rest of his day. I’ve noticed that he’s constantly observant—” Which, I’ll admit, has me on edge sometimes. “—and, actually, he reminds me a lot of Edda. We haven’t made very much progress so far, but already he’s pushing and challenging us to exceed our personal limits. He might be the lead on this project, but he likes to delegate, which is lucky for us.”
When we pull up to a stop light, I feel Miranda’s glare before I look over and see it in action. “Come on. That’s seriously the best you can do?”
I sigh dramatically before I free a giggle and give in to her demands. “I can’t quite figure out what cologne he wears, but it clings to him all day long. It’s downright distracting. Delicious—but distracting. Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the man has a five o’clock shadow—like a legitimate I-shaved-this-morning-but-now-I’ve-worked-hard-enough-to-earn-my-sexy-stubble shadow. And his voice—God!—it’s like a fine wine; smooth, rich, dark, and tasty.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
“I’m trying to play it cool, though,” I say, calming myself down. “He’s my boss and this project is really important and—”
“Oh, stop. Are you telling me that if he asked you out, you’d say no?”
“What?” I mutter, honestly caught off guard. Granted, the thought did cross my mind once. For a second! Then I came to my senses. “First of all, he’d never ask me out. Second…he’d never ask me out.”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you leave a room. Never say never.”
I roll my eyes, knowing good and well that even if she’s right, it doesn’t mean anything. What she doesn’t know is that I’m aware he’s a looker. That’s all he does. If I wanted to read into every glance he threw my way, I could—but I won’t, for all the reasons I seem to be repeating to a growing number of inquiring minds. He’s my boss. This project is important. Plus, I’ve got my ruse with Roman to consider. I open my mouth to share my thoughts, but Miranda beats me to it.
“Speak of the sexy devil,” she says, as we pull in front of our destination. “I didn’t know he was going to be here. Did you?”
When I look out of the window, I see Judah standing with Edda, Rick, and Stuart—the CEO of the company we’ve been working with. I check the time, suddenly worried that since we’re the last to arrive, we must be late. I breathe a sigh of relief when I discover that we’re actually five minutes early. I then peek out at the group once more, to make sure they haven’t spotted us, before I pull down the visor and assess my appearance in the tiny joke of a mirror.
“Mmhmm. I’ll take that to mean you didn’t know that he was going to be here and you would totally go out with him if he asked.”
I snap my head toward the driver’s seat and find Miranda grinning like she just stole something. I fight against my smile and lose before I stick my tongue out at her and climb out of the car. Judah’s attention shifts in our direction at the sound of our doors opening and closing and my stomach tingles with excitement.
Okay, yes, he gives me butterflies. They mean just as much as his pointless stares. A girl can’t help but get a little jittery while those gray eyes are pointed in her direction.
In an attempt to get a grip, I toss my hair over my shoulders, hook my purse in the crook of my arm, and walk boldly toward them. I’m Logan Schwartz and no one makes me cower. Stuart welcomes Miranda and me before we all head inside. Somehow, I end up in the back of the group with Judah. It dawns on me that it works in my favor, him being here. It enables him to see some of my work first hand.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I say softly, looking up at him as he holds the front door open for me.
“Aunt Eddalyn suggested I tag along. Does my being here bother you?”
“What? No,” I insist. “Of course not.”
“Good. Let’s see what you’ve been up to for the last few weeks,” he says, urging me forward with a gentle hand on my back.
His hand isn’t particularly warm, but the place where his touch lingers feels like it’s on fire. Every nerve in my body is begging me to look up at him, but I can’t do it. Partly because I’m afraid if I don’t concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, I might trip and fall on my face; but mostly because I know that if I do seek out his eyes and find them trained on me, I won’t be able to stop myself from turning on my flirty switch.
It’s important that doesn’t happen. I’m not allowed to play with him.
I’m not allowed to play with him, I repeat.
He pulls away from me as we catch up to the rest of the group, which includes a couple of the other executives who wished to join us today. The walk through is pretty simple, as the floor plan is only two levels with a lot of open space. Rick and Miranda do most of the talking, for which I am grateful, as I seem to have temporarily lost my words. Before I know it, we’re shaking hands and saying our goodbyes.
I’m sad to leave. I’ve spent so much time inside of this place—if not physically than mentally. I know it’s a great accomplishment seeing the finished product, and I’ve got an even better project that awaits, but you never forget your first.
“Logan? Logan—are you okay?”
“Hmm?” I murmur, turning toward the sound of Miranda’s voice.
When our eyes meet, she smiles at me kindly and draws me in for a hug. The act surprises me, but I recover quickly and return her embrace. “Congratulations. You should be so proud of yourself. You were a great addition to our team on your first project.”
“Thanks, Miranda,” I say, truly thankful that she understands exactly how I feel.
“I apologize for the interruption, but I need to steal Logan away.”
Miranda and I exchange a quick glance before we both turn to face Judah. “Steal me away where?”
“The Archibald. I have to drop by to pick up a signed contract and you’re coming with me.”
“But I—”
“Great,” says Miranda, effectively cutting me off. “I was hoping to run a quick errand on my way back to the office, anyway. That works out perfectly. I’ll see you later.” She departs with a wave and I barely have time to blink let alone speak before she’s in her car.
“You were saying?” prompts Judah as our eyes meet. I shake my head, completely unaware of what excuse was on the tip of my tongue only seconds ago. “I’m this way.”
He drives a Porsche. A silver Porsche. I suppose it’s only fitting—gorgeous man in a gorgeous car—but I wish he wouldn’t open my door. My resolve to play it cool and fight my attraction to him is dissolving by the second. It’s way easier for me to stay focused on the jo
b in a room full of people. It’s a bit of a challenge when I’m squeezed into small, hot, spaces with the man. Fortunately for me, he doesn’t initiate conversation on our short drive to the hotel. It only takes us five minutes to get there, but that’s long enough for me to take a few deep breaths, forget about how wonderful it feels to be ensconced in what I can only assume is his prized possession, permeated by his signature scent.
“Stay right where you are,” he insists as he turns off the car. It isn’t until he hops out that I realize he snagged a parking spot right in front of the hotel. Such prime parking in the middle of Old Town is nothing short of a miracle.
Great. What next? He can walk on water?
For a moment, I’m confused and I think that he might be running in to get the contract without me—which makes me question why he asked, no, demanded that I come along. Then I realize he simply wants to open my door. Again.
“Logan?” his deep voice rumbles, calling my attention to his hand, which is held out for me.
Shit. Why, oh, why is he suddenly deciding to be a gentleman? What happened to strictly professional? All this touching is making me forget why he’s off limits.
I place my hand in his and let him help me out of the passenger seat and then up onto the sidewalk. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t open doors for you, either,” he mutters, leading me into the building. By the time I understand that by he Judah means Roman we’re inside and he’s leading me toward the dining room.
Just like that, it’s Monday all over again.
I start to address his comment but then stop myself when he catches the attention of the hostess. Her eyes bulge at the sight of him and I can’t help but smile in complete understanding. Even though we’re here on business, I feel triumphant being associated with such eye candy. Then I hear the words reservation for two and I no longer feel like gloating. Now, I’m more confused than anything else.
When we reach our table, he pulls out my chair and I have to bite my tongue. I want to know what the hell is going on! His attention is beginning to put me on edge. It’s not fair that he gets to flirt and I can’t, because that is what he’s doing. At least, I think that’s what he’s doing. Not to mention the fact that this looks more like a date than an errand. And why did he bring up Roman? I want to demand answers but I’m not sure how to do so without challenging him and I can’t very well do that seeing as how he’s my boss. Right?
