by R. C. Martin
He sits down across from me and picks up the menu, like he owes me no explanation.
Screw it. Two can play this game.
“What’s going on? Why did you bring me here? This doesn’t exactly feel like a quick stop.” I lift an eyebrow at him to clearly express my accusation that he lied to me.
He stares at me without speaking a word and I lose a bit of my confidence. It’s one thing to see that stare from across the room. It’s another thing entirely to see it from across the table. He starts to speak just as our waiter arrives to take our drink order. I curse him for his horrible timing but soon forget my frustration when I hear Judah order us champagne.
I gape at him as our waiter leaves to fetch our order.
“We are here to pick up a contract. However, I never said this was going to be a quick stop. We’re also here to have lunch. Furthermore, in light of the completion of your first project at Eddalyn’s Interior, I thought it appropriate to celebrate with a glass of champagne. It’s never too early to toast great accomplishments.”
I squint at him skeptically. “Is this some sort of ass-backwards way of taking me out on a date?” The words are out before I can filter them, but I won’t apologize. I fold my arms across my chest, resolved to the fact that he forced my hand and the only thing left to do is fight fire with fire.
A small smile twitches the corner of his mouth before he speaks. “I assure you, Logan, when you and I are on a date, you won’t have to ask for clarification.”
Did he just—?
“For the moment, we’re here on business. I’ve decided that I’d like you to redesign the dining room of this hotel.”
“Wait, b-by myself?” I stammer, my hands falling into my lap.
“Everything will have to be approved by me, of course, and you must keep in mind the integrity of the project, which we have already discussed, but yes. By yourself.”
Now it’s my turn to stare. Only, I’m sure I look more like a deer in the headlights than a sultry woman in the corner.
“Look around you, Logan. Take in the atmosphere of this historic hotel, the ambiance of this setting. Imagine it transformed and tell me what you see.”
I do as he says, eyeing the room, my head turning right and then left. I try to think about how it can be changed; try to redefine the space where I now sit without compromising what makes it unique; try to and illustrate a picture in my mind—but every other thought leads back to Judah.
He said when we are on a date, as if he fully intends on asking me out. Except, he hasn’t shown any interest in me since the moment we met. Unless you count today, and I’m not sure that I should. Besides—
“Close your eyes,” he instructs, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?” I ask, my gaze snapping back to meet his.
“You’re not concentrating. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and tell me what you see.”
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“Close your eyes.”
“Okay,” I whisper, doing as he says. I take a deep breath and push aside every distraction.
I will myself to pretend that I’m here alone.
I’m not sitting at a table with Judah or in a room starting to fill with guests.
I listen to the music overhead, I hear the sounds behind the bar and the chime of the bell at the front desk in the lobby. I lean back in my chair, make myself comfortable, and picture the room the way it is now. Then, piece by piece, I dismantle it. I take away the red, the gold, the printed fabrics and the antiquated accents.
“Everything is dark and heavy. Rich and beautiful, but old and lifeless. There aren’t a lot of windows to bring in light, which is okay, but the lack of natural light makes the room seem dreary. I wouldn’t brighten the space so much as lighten it? I want to keep it romantic and maybe make it a bit more whimsical. But in an elegant sort of way. I’d use muted colors—dusty shades.
“No table cloths. Round booths—it’s a classic look—and take out the boring ones that are in here now. Cloth upholstery, on the chairs as well. I’d scrap the bar and start over entirely. The drapes would have to go. They’re too…Downton Abbey. I want it to be classic chic, so we’d add a modern touch somehow. Not sure what I see for that just yet. And the light fixtures.” I open my eyes and smile. “Chandeliers everywhere.”
He doesn’t return my smile. Instead, he studies me with interest. I stifle a sigh, wishing he would be more transparent. I have no idea if he’s thinking about me or about my potential design. Or both. His whole mystery facade is disconcerting. The last mysterious man I was drawn to ended up having a secret that would have saved me a lot of heartache. I’m not sure mysteriousness translates to sexiness anymore.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“What?” I cry, unprepared for the question. I run my fingers through my hair, massaging the back of my head for just a second. “I swear, you’re going to give me mental whiplash.”
He laughs and I relax at the sound. Our champagne arrives and when our waiter asks if we’re ready to order, Judah informs him that we need a few more minutes, all the while keeping his eyes focused on me.
“Your lunch date from earlier this week,” he continues. “The one who was with you at The Tap Room, is he your boyfriend?”
“So now you decide to acknowledge that you saw me there? You saw me and you didn’t come say hi.”
“You were with friends. I didn’t want to interrupt. Besides, I enjoyed the view just fine from where I was.”
I open my mouth to speak and then seal my lips together before I utter a word. I need a minute to decipher what he’s up to. If I wasn’t sure before, I’m quite positive now that he wants me. I’m surprised, only because he’s spent the whole week acting like he didn’t. But why?
“Oh,” I sigh when the obvious conclusion strikes me. “Roman. You didn’t want to make a move because of Roman.”
“Your boyfriend?” he asks for the third time.
“Not yet,” I answer honestly.
He doesn’t respond right away and that rush of triumph I felt earlier begins to creep through my veins. For a second, I bathe in the thrill of knowing that I could have him. He might be irritatingly evasive but, in asking if Roman is my boyfriend three times, he practically erected a billboard declaring his intentions. Knowing that to be the truth makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in months.
This feeling—the way my adrenaline is coursing through me at the thought of fooling around with the gray eyed Adonis whose stare seems to penetrate me—this is why I play. The chase is unpredictable and reckless and fun. I’ve never experienced anything else like it.
“Not yet?” he finally speaks. “Meaning, I won’t be stealing you from anyone.”
I laugh as his words entice me further. His confidence is unapologetic. Not that I can blame him. He’s beautiful, smart, and successful enough to get away with just about anything.
Then again, so am I.
“That’s a bold statement,” I manage.
“I usually get what I want, Logan.”
I can’t help but grin at him. He’s not going to back down without a fight. I like that.
“Yeah. So do I,” I reply coyly.
I’m yanked out of my Judah trance at the sound of my phone. I have no intention of answering it, since that would be rude, but when he insists that I should go ahead, I decide to at least see who it is. Once I dig the device out of my purse and I see who’s trying to reach me, I feel as if fate is tugging on my earlobe beckoning me back to reality.
I can’t do this with Jude, as tempting as it might be.
I let the call ring through to voicemail and take another deep, cleansing breath in an attempt to gain control of myself. I’m not playing anymore—not with Judah, not with anyone. I want happiness and I will no longer run from that. I have already established that Judah’s someone to play with, not someone to date. He doesn’t even live in Fort Collins. In a few months, he’ll be gone. Then what? Add to that his c
urrent status as my boss. Indulging in my attraction to him would lead to nothing good. I want him to respect me for my work and nothing else.
Then, of course, I have to consider Daphne. Right now, I’m fighting for her and Trevor—for their happiness—not for a night lip locked with a man who is off limits. Don’t get me wrong, the idea is appealing, but there is too much at stake for me to throw away in this moment. I’ve already struck a deal with Roman and I won’t back out. Yet again, I think I’ve earned myself the title of Best Friend of the Year.
Better yet—Best Friend of a Lifetime.
When I give Judah my attention once more, he cocks an eyebrow at me in question. “It’s okay,” I say with a wave, setting my phone down. “I can call ba—” I’m interrupted by the sound of another incoming call.
“Must be important,” he says. “Maybe you should answer it.”
“You’re right,” I reply as I stand. “I’ll be right back.” He nods and I swipe the screen on my mobile to answer, making my way toward the lobby. “Roman. You’re persistent.”
“I had a hunch you were screening my calls. I’m crushed, Logan,” he says derisively.
I roll my eyes, despite the fact that he’s not here to see me do it. “You’re not my boyfriend yet, remember?”
“Yes, but a gentleman calls to confirm date plans, which is precisely what I’m doing. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind.”
“Of course not, but I’m sort of working right now. Business lunch. Can you make it quick?” I ask, looking over my shoulder to catch a peek at Judah.
“As you wish. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around eight. Keep it casual and eat beforehand if you’re hungry.”
I scrunch my face in confusion when he doesn’t offer me more. “That’s all I get?”
“Yup.”
“You could have sent that in a text,” I scoff. “Tell me where we’re going.”
“No way. It’s a surprise. Also, a gentleman does not send a text to confirm date plans. Besides, if I had simply sent a text, I wouldn’t be able to tell you about the phone call I got from my sister about an hour ago.”
I gasp in excitement, remembering who Daphne woke up with this morning. Now he has my attention. “Do tell, Double-O.”
“She called wanting to know about our date. Trevor must have spilled the beans.”
“Fantastic! What did you say?”
“I told her that I think I’m starting to like you and I want to get to know you more. I think I did well enough over the phone, but playing our part in front of a sober Daphne won’t be as easy as it was last night with an inebriated Trevor.”
“Then make sure wherever we go has plenty of booze to help us out.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”
“Great. Anything else? I left Jude waiting.”
“Hold on—you’re out at a business lunch with Jude?”
“Yes,” I answer as I begin to make my way back to the table.
“By yourself?”
“Yes,” I say with a smile. “Don’t fret, handsome, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m still in this with you.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” he mutters. “I just don’t like the guy. I say, make him wait.”
“I have to go,” I say, laughing under my breath. It amuses me that one short lived moment could spark such dislike between the two of them. They haven’t even met.
Men. Their feathers are so easily ruffled.
“Okay, bye.” Despite his quick surrender, I can hear the smile in his voice—proof that he’s starting to enjoy our little game. Sooner or later, he’ll have to admit that my plan is as brilliant as I promised.
“Bye.” I end the call just as I reach the table.
“Is everything okay?” asks Judah as I sit.
“Yeah.” I think of changing the subject but then change my mind. Roman’s timing was actually perfect. Jude is far too inciting for me to fend off with my own willpower—but with Roman’s help… “It was Roman,” I say without any further consideration.
“Your non-boyfriend.”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, I took the liberty of ordering for you while you were away,” he says, shifting the direction of our conversation. It doesn’t faze me this time. I’m learning to expect it. “I hope you like salmon.”
“I love it.”
“Good. Now, I think I promised you a toast and then I’d like to hear more about your vision for this room.”
I raise my glass, silently announcing my own toast—to keeping my word to stop playing and start dating whilst winning my bet with Daph. Cheers.
“That’s what you’re wearing?”
I look up as I finish tying the laces of my black Converse to see Ashton leaning against my doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. I then look back down at my clothing choice; tan shorts and a black v-neck t-shirt. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?” I ask, standing to retrieve my wallet from my desk.
“I don’t know,” he says with a smirk. “Are you sure The Princess will approve? That’s an awfully casual choice for your first date.”
“Hey, I told her to keep it casual. Besides—”
He cuts me off with his laughter. “I’m just messing with you, man. I still can’t believe you’re doing this.”
I scowl at him and punch him in the shoulder as I make my way out of my room. “It was you who claimed I should go through with it.”
“I didn’t think you were going to listen,” he says as he follows.
“Well, I did.” I head for the kitchen to grab something to eat before I leave.
“Is she going to church with you, too?”
“No. I’ll pick her up after. But you are my witness, that’s part of the deal too. Although, I told her she could handle that part her way.”
At the sound of the front door opening and closing, we exchange a look and drop the subject. I decide to make myself a sandwich, as I don’t have time for much else. Ashton pours himself a bowl of cereal.
I swear, if he didn’t know better, he’d eat that stuff for every meal.
“Hey, guys,” greets Ryan as he and Trisha spot us.
“Hey,” we reply in unison.
“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” asks Trisha. She joins us in the kitchen and leans up against the counter beside me as she gives me a once over.
I look from her to Ashton and then back at her in astonishment. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Is that what you’re wearing?” I nod toward her, drawing attention to her shorts and tank top combo.
Her long, dark blonde locks are pulled back into a ponytail that swishes from side to side when she laughs and shakes her head at me. She and Ryan are tagging along tonight. I was offered a group deal at the place we’re going and I needed another couple to get the rate. When I mentioned the idea to Trisha, she insisted that Ryan agree. Granted, it didn’t take much to get Ryan to hop on board. He’s anxious to see proof that I’m willing to play nice with Logan.
“I’m just teasing! I think you look great. As for what The Princess might think…”
“Remind us, again, why you’ve suddenly decided to date her?” asks Ryan.
I smile to myself. At this point, being amused is my only option. I should have known that agreeing to this plan with Logan was going to lead to a bunch of grief from everyone I know. Instead, I was just thinking about Daphne. Sure, I understood that we had to keep up the ruse with everyone, but convincing them I’m not crazy is a battle I’m not sure I’ll ever win.
“Okay, I know this comes as a surprise to everyone, but I don’t think she’s as bad as she’s led all of us to believe.”
“So she’s not an overly confident, selfish, narcissistic, flirt who you have nothing in common with?”
I choke out a laugh as I attempt to conjure up a counter argument on her behalf. I don’t want to lie to them any more than I already am, so I scour my brain for enough truth to back her up. Amazingly enough, it�
��s not as hard as I thought it would be. My list in her defense isn’t long, but it’ll have to do.
“Look—my sister has been telling me for years that there’s more to Logan than she’d like you to believe. Lately, I think I’m starting to see what she means. She’s not all bad. If she was, my sister would have kicked her to the curb a long time ago. Besides, she seems different lately.
“The other night, when I asked her out, I watched her sit at the bar with Trevor and Harvey and the only person she hit on was me. You guys know her—even on a slow night, which it wasn’t, she demands the attention of every guy in the room.
“Call me crazy if you’d like, I’d understand. I just decided that maybe I should give her a chance. I’m not saying I’m going to marry her or anything, but a few dates never hurt anyone. I know that none of you can be opposed to me putting myself out there, again. You’ve been on my back about it for ages.”
My response is met with silence and contemplative stares. Finally, Ashton comes to my rescue. “Okay. You’ve made your point. We’ve got your back, no matter what. Just don’t let her walk all over you.”
“I second that,” says Trisha. “If you need me to bitch slap her, you just let me know.”
We all laugh and the tension in the room breaks. “Down, girl,” Ryan teases.
“Alright, I’ve got to get out of here.” I grab my sandwich, taking a bite out of it as I hunt down my phone and my keys. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
What I like the most about The Rock in Old Town is the community. Even if the message preached isn’t something that resonates with me on that particular day, or if I’m just tired after a long week and I’m having a hard time connecting, it’s nice to be surrounded by a church family. I know that the people I see week after week are people I can call on when I’m struggling or in need of support and visa versa.
