The Single Daddy Situation

by Layla Valentine

  When it was her turn to pay for lunch, they sure wouldn’t be eating at a restaurant that didn’t list the prices on their menu. If Mariah had to buy their food, they would eat at a chain coffee or sandwich shop like normal human beings.

  Despite the little luxuries that had always felt out of reach to Mariah, Logan’s never-ending stream of lighthearted jokes and sarcasm kept her from feeling out of place. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had fit in so well so quickly at a place of employment. So far, everyone she had met was kind and welcoming, but not so much that they set her on edge.

  Now, she sat beside Logan at a rectangular conference table on the nineteenth floor of the building. The top floor was comprised of Logan and Aaron’s offices, along with those of a handful of other established employees. When Mariah had jokingly asked Logan when she would receive her own office, he had been quick to assure her they would find space for her in the coming months. She had told him she was only kidding, but he was serious.

  At the memory, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. For the first time since he had proposed the offer at the downtown stadium, she was optimistic about her future at Harfield and Wellner. Maybe she would take Hazel’s advice and enroll in an online MBA program.

  All she had to do was make sure her and Logan’s newfound friendship didn’t turn into something with the potential for a disastrous fallout.

  She pulled herself back to the present as Logan signed his name at the bottom of a new client contract. His smile was unfaltering as he passed her the sheet of paper to file away in a sleek briefcase.

  Across the table, a tall, willowy woman with jet-black hair and dark brown eyes pushed herself to stand. Her name was Stacey Anderson, and she was the head of a tech firm that had just agreed to buy a chunk of a mobile app developer that Logan and Aaron had funded three years earlier. Three to four years ago had been a busy investment period for Harfield and Wellner, and now, their decisions had begun to pay off—literally.

  The representative for the app developer, Jordan Something-Or-Other, stood alongside Stacey to extend a hand. Though Mariah hadn’t understood half the technical terms he and Stacey had used during their discussion, she had gathered that the algorithm Jordan and his colleagues had developed was the start of a vast improvement to the processing speed of mobile devices.

  Mariah kept both hands folded atop the metal briefcase as Logan walked Jordan and Stacey to the door. After he pushed open the glass and metal door, he offered them each a parting handshake. As Jesse approached to lead them back down to the main floor, Logan glanced over his shoulder and threw her a quick wink.

  When he mouthed the words “lucky charm,” she couldn’t keep the silly grin off her face.

  He turned to wave farewell to the two entrepreneurs, and once they followed Jesse—who she had learned was Harfield and Wellner’s public relations representative—he eased the door closed as he stepped back into the room.

  Combing the fingers of one hand through his hair, he pulled out a chair at the other end of the table and dropped down to sit. “I know you don’t have much for a frame of reference, but trust me when I say that today was a damn good day.”

  “You’re right,” Mariah said. “I don’t, but I heard those numbers you guys were throwing around. I can’t imagine seven-figure deals constitute a bad day.”

  He snorted a laugh and nodded. “You’re not wrong. We’ve had this meeting on the books for a few weeks now, but Stacey and her firm are located in New York, so I half-expected the whole thing to fall through.”

  Mariah leaned back in her chair. “She seemed pretty excited to be here.”

  He looked thoughtful. “She did, didn’t she?”

  “When you told me about her, I definitely didn’t expect her to be as… I don’t know. As cool as she was. Or as young. She seems like she’d be a fun person to get a drink with.”

  He nodded again. “She does. Plus, she cusses like a sailor, and I always feel like that’s a good gauge of how well I’ll get along with someone.”

  With one hand, Mariah covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “Speaking of drinks, though.” He tapped an index finger against the polished tabletop as a thoughtful look passed over his face. “The plan for tonight was to have everyone involved in this deal meet up at a bar downtown. It’s called the Plume, have you heard of it?”

  She shook her head but kept her expression calm and amiable as her pulse rushed in her ears.

  “It’s an upscale place, and as much as I love my dive bars, I’m not going to have my staff meet me at some hole-in-the-wall to play darts and sing along with Journey on a jukebox.”

  Mariah couldn’t help her chuckle as she spread her hands. “I don’t know. That sounds great to me.”

  His gray eyes flicked to the window and then back to her as he reached for the band of his watch. “Well, I know you’re still settling in and getting used to everything, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to join us. It’s just a little get-together to celebrate our deal with Stacey and her company. Drinks are on the corporate card, so don’t worry about that. It’s not mandatory, so don’t feel obligated, but I’d really like to see you there.”

  A work outing, not a date. Definitely not a date. There’ll be other people from work there, too.

  When she told herself that the outing would be a good opportunity to get to know some more of her coworkers, she knew in the back of her mind that the thought was more a rationalization than anything.

  She flipped her hair and nodded. “That sounds great. I’ll be there.”

  As Logan’s face brightened, the expression was different than the amused grins she had seen him wear so far that day. In that moment, he looked hopeful.

  Mariah wanted to see the look again, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was getting in over her head.

  Chapter 17

  Logan

  The eyes of Logan and all five other occupants of the circular table were fixed on Jesse as he regaled a story of his first job to the group. They had all shared their stories, but Jesse’s was by far the most unique. Until now, Logan had no idea that the younger man had been born and raised on a farm in the middle of Iowa.

  Harfield and Wellner’s lead accountant, a middle-aged man named Hank, had obtained his first job in a shoe store. Aaron Wellner had worked in a fast-food joint, and his wife had gotten a job in a retail store. Their tech expert, Megan, had been employed by an electronics shop local to her native Boulder, Colorado. To her side was a business analyst named Ted, or Teddy to those who knew him well. When he was sixteen, he had been a busboy at a chain restaurant. Logan’s first job was stocking shelves at a grocery store.

  But Jesse had spent the time between his freshman and sophomore years of high school walking through fields in the brutal Midwestern summer heat to detassel corn. The following summer, he had helped a local farmer corral pigs. Both occupations were alien to the Colorado and California natives at the table, and Jesse’s surprise that they hadn’t heard of the jobs only added to the air of curiosity.

  Aaron arched an eyebrow at the public relations specialist. “How the heck did none of that violate child labor laws?”

  With a shrug, Jesse took a long pull from his drink. “It probably did,” he answered. “No one really cared much out there. It was the work that needed to be done, so we did it, and we didn’t complain because we got paid. Not really a lot of places in small-town Iowa looking for high schoolers to do steady work, you know?”

  “I guess,” Aaron chuckled.

  Before any of them could pose another question, Jesse raised his glass and lifted two fingers as his eyes shifted to the direction of the bar’s main entrance. Logan turned in his seat to follow the gesture. When he spotted Mariah, he had to fight to keep the look of awe off his face.

  For the first time since they’d been reintroduced, the serpentine dragon tattoo along her upper arm was visible. She had added more to the piece over the last f
ew years, but his eyes didn’t linger on the dragon for long. The neckline of her form-fitting dress dipped tastefully low, and the jade-green fabric ended just above her knees. As she walked, a slit along one side revealed more of her shapely leg than he ever thought he’d see again.

  When he’d met her four years earlier, she had been in the prime physical shape he would expect from a mixed martial arts fighter. Though the years had certainly been kind to her, she had lost some of the muscle definition that had been honed by a relentless workout routine. But, if anything, the change only made her more attractive. The hourglass figure he could still recall so vividly was more pronounced, and her chest…

  He snapped his gaze away from the subtle shape of her cleavage to offer her a smile. To his relief, her attention had been fixed elsewhere as he had let his eyes wander over her body. When their eyes met, she returned the smile with a slight curve of her lips. He could still remember how soft those lips had been, how divine her fleeting kisses had felt against his bare skin.

  As she took a seat at his side, he hardly heard her exchange greetings with the rest of the table. All he could think about was the sensation of her body beneath his, of her smooth skin as she wrapped her legs around him.

  Before he could think through the act, he bit down on his tongue to jerk himself out of the reverie, pleasant though it may have been.

  The sudden sting was unexpected, and he barely avoided jumping in his seat. In an effort to appear nonchalant, he took a deep drink of the Old Fashioned he had ordered. The drink was made almost entirely of liquor, but the welcome burn of the whiskey returned his composure.

  As Mariah’s gaze flicked over to him, he inclined the glass in her direction. “I’m glad you could make it,” he said.

  The corners of her eyes creased as she smiled in response. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  There was a hint of trepidation in her face, but he pushed aside his curiosity and shifted his focus back to the rest of the table. “We were all just swapping stories about our first jobs. Jesse over there…” Logan paused to gesture to the blond man. “He detasseled corn and herded pigs.”

  With a snort of laughter, Jesse shook his head. “That makes it sound like I’m a sheepdog.”

  At the sarcastic remark, Mariah laughed—that same, melodic sound to which he’d been drawn so many years ago. “I worked in a fast-food restaurant,” Mariah put in.

  Grinning, Aaron raised his drink. “Hey, me, too. Here’s to never doing that again.”

  A chorus of laughs followed Aaron’s comment. The overall air of good humor continued as they ordered another round. A gin and tonic for Mariah, and a refill for everyone else.

  Over the next couple hours, Logan didn’t think he could have asked for a better end to his day. A couple more of the staff involved in the deal with Stacey Anderson wandered in not long after Mariah, and the discussion about their first jobs gradually evolved into recollections of their college careers. Logan, Aaron, and Jesse had all attended business school at Stanford University, but the rest of the table had eclectic backgrounds.

  As the night wore on, the number of people at the table dwindled until finally just Logan, Mariah, Aaron, and his wife were left. Melanie Wellner perked up at the mention of Mariah’s stint in MMA, and for a split second, the woman seemed starstruck. With a wide smile and an attentive look, Melanie listened as Mariah regaled tales of her experiences in mixed martial arts.

  After the most recent recollection drew to a close, Aaron and Melanie stood from their seats and offered a warm farewell as they made their way to the door. Logan had lost track of how many Old Fashioneds he had drunk, but his head was light, and his movements felt easier.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Sipping at her newest drink, Mariah lifted her sculpted eyebrows as she turned to regard him. “Hey, what?”

  “They have a private section up on the second floor. I think we should have a glass of champagne. Celebrate your first week, you know?”

  He half-expected her to dismiss the offer and follow Aaron and Melanie’s path out the front door. Instead, she looked contemplative.

  “A private booth, huh?” she asked.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, it’s a celebration. Just for old time’s sake.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched in a slight smile, and she nodded. “Sure, what the hell.”

  As he pushed to his feet, he was greeted by a lightheaded rush. How many drinks had he downed?

  Despite the sudden realization, Logan reassured himself that he had no ulterior motive as he led Mariah to the stairwell at the other end of the space. The man at the top of the steps recognized him, offered a polite nod, and waved him into the empty area.

  A handful of tables and chairs were set along the floor in front of the bar, and a short hallway branched off in either direction. He and Aaron often used the secluded booths to discuss business dealings over a few drinks, and Logan knew the section well enough. They had the option to order drinks at the bar, but the service in the VIP section was second to none.

  As soon as he and Mariah dropped to sit in the cushioned corner booth at the end of the left hallway, a young woman arrived to take their drink order. The champagne flutes were in their hands just as quickly, though he could hardly remember the time between.

  “Wow,” Mariah said as she glanced around at the photographs of old-school celebrities that hung on the exposed brick walls. “This place is seriously nice.”

  He raised the slender glass. She tapped her flute against his with a light clink.

  “It’s a nice bar,” he replied after a quick sip. The light, fruity flavor of the drink was a welcome reprieve from the potent taste of an Old Fashioned.

  A spell of silence settled in between them as they each sipped at their respective drinks.

  If he was sober, Logan might have paused to ask himself why exactly he had asked her to accompany him to a private booth. Then again, if he wanted the answer, all he had to do was look at the way the jade-green fabric shimmered against her body as she moved. He knew he should endeavor to keep their interaction professional, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by gratitude at her presence.

  “I have to say,” he said, breaking the moment of quiet. “I’m really glad you accepted my job offer. I know it came out of left field and all, but I’m glad you’re here. It seems like you’re going to be a really great fit. And…” He paused, a smirk playing across his lips as he offered her an exaggerated wink.

  “And?” she echoed, laughter in her voice.

  “And, I think Aaron’s wife, Melanie, has a crush on you.”

  Mariah raised a hand to cover her mouth as she started to laugh. “Well, she seems like a nice lady. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “As you should.”

  “So, that dude at the door seemed like he knew who you were right away.” Mariah’s green and amber eyes flicked over to his. “Are you here a lot?”

  Though he could tell there was a hidden inquiry beneath the seemingly innocent question, his drunken brain couldn’t sort out what it might have been.

  Rather than puzzle over the potential answers, he responded. “Aaron and I come here to talk about work sometimes when our days run late. Up here, they’ll even call in food orders for you. So, yeah, we’re here quite a bit.”

  Mariah’s face brightened, and he felt relieved but wasn’t sure why.

  “That’s pretty cool of them,” she replied.

  “I don’t splurge on a lot, but coming here is an exception. Well, here and this Thai place down the street.”

  She chuckled into her glass as she took another drink. “I love Thai food.”

  His eyes widened. “You do? Well, shit! Why in the hell haven’t we ordered food from there yet? All right, all right. Tomorrow. We’re getting lunch from that place tomorrow, all right?”

  Her giggle escalated into full-blown laughter as she nodded her agreement. “Okay, I can live with that. And, yeah. I love Thai food. And
Chinese, and Korean, and Italian, and Mexican. I mean, I’ve never really been picky, so I guess you could say that I love all food equally.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” he said with a chortle. “I used to always think it was so lame that my mom and I couldn’t afford to go out to eat more often. And I don’t even mean going out to the really good places, I mean, like, chain restaurants.”

  “I know exactly what you’re talking about. My brother and I would beg my mom to take us out to a fast-food place, and she’d always tell us that there was food in the house. Then, you know, you get into college and you realize what a dumbass you were when you were a kid.”

  “Exactly,” he laughed. “Now, honestly, on most days, I’d fight someone for some of my mom’s home-cooked food. She can make anything, too. If you think it sounds good, there’s a good chance she’s already got a recipe for it somewhere. I keep telling her she should start a food blog.”

  “No way,” Mariah replied. Her eyebrows raised as their eyes met. “I tell my mom the same thing. I even got her a camera for Christmas a couple years ago so she could take better food pictures.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that.” He snapped his fingers. “You know what, I’ve been trying to figure out what to get my mom for her birthday next month. I keep buying her kitchen appliances, but by now I think she owns just about every kitchen gadget known to mankind. I think I’ll get her a camera.”

  In that moment, Mariah’s warm smile seemed different. It seemed warmer, even content. “I’m glad I could help.”

  His pulse rushed in his ears, drowning out the din of the bar’s background noise. He didn’t know what had happened to bring that look to her face, but as his eyes shifted up to hers, he was sure something between them had changed. They held the look for a long, drawn-out moment before he finally decided to throw caution to the wind.