The Single Daddy Situation

by Layla Valentine

  One arm rested along the back of the booth to balance himself, he leaned in to close the distance between them. Mariah didn’t flinch away, and for a moment, he was sure his risk was about to pay off. The sensation of her lips against his was light, almost delicate. But before he could tilt his head to kiss her, she seemed to snap back to reality.

  Scooting backward in the booth, she quickly glanced away.

  “Oh my God,” Logan managed. “I’m sorry.”

  A tinge of pink was on her cheeks as she shook her head. “It’s all right. No big deal. We should probably head out soon anyway, right?”

  His heart sank, but he forced an amiable smile to his face and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed.

  Well, damn. This wasn’t good, was it?

  Chapter 18

  Mariah

  When Mariah licked her lips, she half-expected to taste him. Never mind that she and Logan hadn’t actually kissed, and never mind that the awkward incident had occurred almost twenty minutes ago.

  As tempted as she had been to lean in and get lost in the veritable bliss that came with his closeness, she had refrained. That evening, she had realized how glad she was to finally have a foot in the door to the real professional world. As she readied herself for the trip to the upscale bar, she had mentally taken stock of what she needed to do to prepare herself for an online MBA program. Now that she finally had time, she could make a move to advance her career.

  But as blissful as Logan’s touch might have been, she didn’t want to ruin her opportunity to start a life for herself by crossing a professional boundary with the man who was essentially her boss. Essentially? No, Logan was her boss.

  She had herded him outside to get some fresh air while they waited for a cab to pick them up. Logan rattled off his address to the cabbie as Mariah climbed into the backseat after him. He had started drinking before she arrived, but until the attempt at a drunken kiss, she hadn’t realized exactly how inebriated he was. She wasn’t exactly sober, but Logan was three sheets to the wind.

  While Mariah was busy attempting to formulate a plan to get him back into his house, he struck up a conversation with the cabbie. Either the driver had the patience of a saint, or the man truly enjoyed discussing television shows with his drunk passengers. If she was honest, Mariah was inclined to believe the latter. There was no hint of deception in the man’s tone as he replied to Logan’s emphatic questions about a series he had recently begun to watch.

  It was almost like the awkward half-kiss had never even happened. To her surprise, Mariah was fine with the idea that he wouldn’t remember the haphazard gesture of affection. Right now, she only hoped he didn’t pass out before they got to his place. She wasn’t sure she could carry his deadweight with one bum knee, especially since she had slacked on her workout regimen over the last six months. But when she worked seventy hours per week, it was difficult to squeeze in a workout at the end of a twelve-hour shift.

  To her relief, Logan’s conversation with the driver kept him awake until the car pulled up the slight incline to the spacious driveway. The concrete looked like it had been poured yesterday, and the front yard—though on the smaller side compared to the massive house—was just as pristine. As the driver shifted the car into park, an overhead light on the covered porch bathed them in a faint glow.

  Mariah thought at first that the bulb was motion-activated, but as the front door cracked open, a middle-aged blond woman stepped out onto the welcome mat.

  As Logan offered the cabbie a lengthy thank-you for entertaining his drunk ramblings, Mariah slid out of her seat and hurried around to the rear driver’s-side door. When Logan handed the driver a few twenty-dollar bills, the man’s eyes widened, though only for a split second. Apparently, Mariah wasn’t the only one who tipped generously when she was hammered.

  Logan’s gray eyes snapped over to her as she pulled open the car door. “Oh,” he said, glancing to the backseat and then to her. “I didn’t even see you get out.”

  With a sarcastic smile, she held out a hand to him. “That’s because you’re shit-faced.”

  “You’re not wrong.” He slurred the words together, and the statement sounded more akin to one long word.

  She couldn’t help her light chuckle at his candid response. As Logan took her outstretched hand, she tightened her grip and helped haul him to his feet.

  “Thank you,” she said to the driver.

  “No problem,” the man said and laughed. “Glad I could get you guys home safe. Have a good night.”

  Once Mariah shoved the door closed, the man offered a departing wave. Logan grinned and returned the gesture, much to Mariah’s amusement. She’d dealt with enough drunks at the club to know better than to encourage him at this point, so she kept the mirth to herself as they started toward the house.

  Logan half walked, half stumbled beside her on the short journey. When Mariah met the blond woman’s eyes, she forced a smile to her lips.

  “Hi,” Mariah said. “I’m sorry we’re so late. I’m Mariah. I’m Logan’s new assistant. We were at the bar celebrating a deal he closed today, and I guess we just lost track of time.”

  The woman waved a dismissive hand and smiled. “No need to apologize, sweetie. I’m Estella, the housekeeper-slash-aunt, as Logan likes to say. He’d already asked me to stay overnight with Emily, anyway. Come on, I’ll help you get His Royal Drunkness inside.”

  Aside from a slight chuckle, Logan didn’t respond to the jab. At least he’d waited to pass out on his feet until Mariah had help, she thought.

  With her and Estella’s combined strength, they managed to haul Logan up a flight of stairs to the master suite. They unceremoniously dumped him atop the mattress, and Mariah was pretty sure he passed out before his head even hit the pillow.

  What a night.

  Though she wanted to ponder his attempt to kiss her, she pushed the thoughts aside as she followed Estella to the doorway. Mariah glanced over her shoulder at Logan’s sleeping form. At the sight of him sprawled out, spread-eagle atop the plush comforter, she had to stifle a laugh.

  As she eased the door closed behind herself, she hoped he wouldn’t remember the attempted kiss. If at least one of them forgot about it, life would be easier for both of them.

  Chapter 19

  Logan

  The rest of Logan’s thoughts hadn’t traversed into the world of the waking, but he knew his head hurt. His body was stiff, like he’d spent the previous night in a boxing ring, not in a chair at an upscale bar. Then again, for all he knew, once he left the bar, he might have hopped into a boxing ring. From the moment he and Mariah stepped outside the Plume, his memory was black. If it hadn’t been for the familiar scent of the laundry detergent on his pillow, he wouldn’t even be sure he was at home.

  With a start, he realized he hadn’t heard the obnoxious buzz of his alarm. What time was it? Had he slept straight through Emily’s departure to school?

  “Shit,” he spat, his eyes snapping open.

  He regretted the motion almost right away, but he fought through the throb in his head as he rolled over to his side. No, he hadn’t slept through his alarm. It was only a quarter till six.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, Logan squeezed his eyes closed and took in a deep breath. His heart still hammered in his chest, but the surge of adrenaline had begun to recede. He blinked to clear the remainder of the film from his vision before he patted himself down to locate his phone.

  The device still had half its battery life remaining, but he hadn’t bothered to remove it from his pocket before he passed out for the night. With a groan, he typed in the PIN to unlock the screen. The bright light stung his sensitive eyes and renewed the ache in his head, but he forced himself to look at the screen.

  He already knew he wasn’t going to go to the office this morning. He might make a trip downtown later in the afternoon, but might was the operative word. Right now, all he wanted to do was roll back to his side, bury his face in a pillow, and let
death’s welcoming embrace whisk him away from the pain and suffering of the world. In fact, he was almost certain he was dying.

  As he pulled up Mariah’s number, he suddenly remembered his clumsy attempt to kiss her.

  “Oh, crap,” he muttered.

  Now, he definitely wanted to close his eyes and wait for death to take him. How could he be so stupid? There was no denying that she had been stunning in that slinky jade-green dress, but she had given him no indication that she wanted him to try to initiate any physical contact that went beyond platonic.

  There were feelings buried beneath the attraction that he didn’t entirely understand, but he had no right to make that Mariah’s problem. She was one of the best people he’d ever met—she was kindhearted but boasted a razor-sharp wit, had the figure of a goddess but still laughed at his stupid jokes, and she was confident, smart, and funny. Even if he didn’t stand a chance in a romantic relationship with her, he would rather have Mariah around as an employee and a friend than risk making her uncomfortable with an unwanted advance.

  And that was exactly what he had done last night. He had made an unwanted advance.

  “Shit,” he said.

  If he just tried to pretend the awkward encounter had never happened, he was sure the feelings of discomfort would only drive a wedge between him and Mariah. He would prove to her that he had no intention of repeating the mistake. He’d always been a man of action, and the only action he could take now was to show her he wouldn’t do it again.

  But for now, he needed a remedy for this nasty hangover. Though there were no meetings scheduled for the day, there was plenty of work to be done. He had an upcoming trip to Singapore to meet with a global investor, and even though he didn’t leave for more than a week, it wouldn’t hurt to start preparing.

  Swallowing the rush of anxiety, he tapped Mariah’s name and composed a message.

  “Good morning, and let me be the first to apologize for being an idiot last night. Thanks again for coming out, haha. I was wondering if I could ask you for a huge favor—work-related, don’t worry.”

  Though he had expected to wait for the response, her reply popped up on the screen less than five minutes later.

  “No worries, it happens to the best of us. Work-related, I can do that. What’s the favor?”

  He blew out a sigh of relief. “Could you swing by the office and grab me the folder for the client I’m meeting with next week? The firm from Singapore.”

  Her response started with a smiley face emoji. “Sure thing. I’m already up and at ’em. Do you want me to bring it to your place?”

  He was relieved to see the smiley face. “Yes, please. And… I know I said I wouldn’t do this, but this next request is me asking as a friend. If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could swing by a coffee place and get me the strongest coffee they make? You can use the business credit card and grab yourself something, too.”

  This time she started her response with the emoji rolling its eyes. “Since you’re a friend, I guess I’ll let it slide. This time, anyway. I’ll be there in about an hour, maybe a little more depending on traffic.”

  He was hopeful at her seemingly upbeat responses, and he hoped the positivity would extend to their interaction when she got to the house.

  After popping a couple extra-strength ibuprofen tablets, Logan dragged himself out of his bed to take a shower. The warmth of the water eased some of the tension from his body, and by the time he had dried off and dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, the headache had begun to subside. He made his way to Emily’s room to wake her for school, and then he meandered downstairs where he drank one glass of water after another.

  He couldn’t remember where, but he’d learned someplace that a hangover was largely the result of dehydration. Ever since the discovery, his response to a night of heavy drinking was to suck down as much water as humanly possible when he woke the next day.

  By a quarter after seven, he and Emily were seated at the dining room table just outside the kitchen. Mercifully, Emily was engrossed in a new book she had been given by Estella, and Logan was able to sit in silence as his headache subsided.

  He exchanged a series of text messages with Estella, and he had gathered that she was thoroughly amused by his drunken stupor the night before. Apparently, she and Mariah had hauled him up the steps and into his room, but he couldn’t remember a single second of the trip.

  Just after he typed his sixth or seventh apology to Estella, the doorbell chimed. For the first time since she had sat down to eat her cereal, Emily’s blue eyes flicked away from the book and up to him.

  “That’s my friend,” he responded to her unasked question.

  With a curious smile and raised eyebrows, she nodded and returned her focus to the book.

  Tucking his phone in the pocket of his dark jeans, Logan slowly rose to his feet and made his way through the kitchen and to the foyer. As he had hoped, Mariah stood on the porch, a cup of coffee in each hand and a brown paper bag tucked beside the manila folder in her arms.

  She gave him a knowing smile as he pulled open the door, and in spite of his brutal hangover, he returned the expression.

  “Come on in,” he said, sweeping a hand to the foyer. “I’d say welcome for the first time, but apparently, you’ve been here already.”

  With a chuckle, she nodded as she handed him one of the coffees and the folder. “Like I said, it happens to the best of us. I’ve got plenty of dumb drunk stories from when I worked at the call center.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You do?”

  “Well, I took most of my college classes online, so working there was basically the equivalent of college partying for me.”

  As they started back to the kitchen and dining area, Logan nodded his understanding. “I didn’t party a ton in college. Which I guess might explain why I suck at drinking so much nowadays.”

  “How’s the hangover, by the way?” Mariah asked with a grin.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.

  Laughing, she followed him into the dining room.

  Emily’s eyes darted from him to Mariah and then back. “What?” she asked. “What’s so funny?”

  Logan shook his head and reached into the bag to retrieve a chocolate croissant. “Nothing, sweetie. Your dad was an idiot last night.”

  In response, Emily giggled.

  He split the croissant and gave half to Emily. She wiggled in her seat at the unexpected treat. Then he took a massive bite from his half and washed it down with a long drink of the potent coffee.

  “Oh, my God,” he muttered, glancing to Mariah. “Thank you. I think you just literally saved my life.”

  With a slight shake of her head, Mariah brushed some of her dark hair over one shoulder. “It’s no problem, really.”

  Logan turned to face his daughter. “Emily, this is my friend Mariah. She works with me.” As he gestured to Mariah, Emily’s wide eyes followed the movement. “Mariah, this is my daughter, Emily.”

  “Hi, Emily,” Mariah replied. “It’s nice to meet you. What’re you reading?”

  “Estella gave it to me.” Emily pushed the paperback toward Mariah. “It’s about a girl and her cat. The cat can talk, and he helps her solve mysteries. Estella said it’s a book for older kids since there aren’t very many pictures, but I like it.”

  “I love cats,” Mariah said. “What’s the cat’s name?”

  “Shadow,” Emily answered, finishing the last of her croissant half. “He’s a black cat, and sometimes he dreams about being a panther.”

  Mariah flashed him a quick glance before she pulled out the chair to sit at Emily’s side. With a warm smile, she looked down to the book. “When I was a little older than you are, I had a black cat. But he didn’t talk or help me solve mysteries, and believe me, I tried to get him to talk.”

  Emily wiggled in her seat again as she looked back down to the open page. “What was your cat’s name?”

  “His name was Bruce. I
named him after one of my favorite movie stars, Bruce Lee,” Mariah answered.

  As Mariah answered Emily’s ensuing questions about the martial arts master Bruce Lee, Logan was sure they had both forgotten about him altogether. In silence, he happily watched them as he wolfed down the croissant and sipped his coffee.

  By the time Mariah finished her rundown of her favorite Bruce Lee movies, Logan’s phone had buzzed advising him Emily’s ride was there. One of her friends from school was driven to classes each day by her mother, and the woman had been kind enough to extend the courtesy to Emily.

  After he gave his daughter a hug goodbye, Emily turned to Mariah with an expectant glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, Mariah knelt down and gave her a hug. As the sedan started to pull away from the driveway, Emily stuck one hand through the window for an enthusiastic wave.

  With a chuckle, he and Mariah returned the departing gesture.

  “I think she likes you,” Logan said once the car had pulled away. “She hasn’t been that happy on her way out the door in a long time.”

  “She’s a pretty cool kid,” Mariah replied.

  Logan nodded, but there was a twinge of sadness in the back of his mind. Pushing the despondency aside, he glanced over to Mariah as they stepped back into the foyer. He still wasn’t sure when he was going to make it to the office, but he had decided he didn’t want Mariah to sit around, bored out of her skull while he figured it out.

  He combed the fingers of one hand through his damp hair. “I talked to Estella a little bit this morning, and I think it’s safe to say that you’ve dealt with more than enough in the last twenty-four hours. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and relax?”

  Mariah’s face brightened as she brushed a few strands of hair from her eyes. “That sounds great. I don’t know about relaxing, but I’ve got plenty of errands I can get done.”

  “Excellent. It’s your day to do what you like. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”