by R.S. Grey
Then I have a brilliant idea to circumvent their rules about discussing Logan.
“I read this interesting article today in the newspaper,” I muse aloud.
Yasmine frowns in disbelief. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been sitting on the sofa all day, watching horrible daytime telly like a sad sack.”
“Yes, well, this was earlier. Uh, when I was in the loo. The article was an advice column, actually. Very interesting.”
“I suppose you’ll tell us even if we don’t want to hear it?”
I ignore Kat and continue on. “In the article, this girl…Candy, she um, asked the columnist how she should go about winning her boyfriend—er, girlfriend back after she royally mucked up.”
I think I’ve done a brilliant job disguising my true intent, but Kat only rolls her eyes at me.
“I’ll bet the columnist told Candy exactly what we’ve been telling you: either call him again or move on. You’re the one who went off the deep end. Logan probably thinks you’re not worth all the trouble.”
“No!” I hiss. “She actually told Candy to go out and find better mates, the kind who will let her complain for as long as she wants about the guy who’s broken her heart!”
“Right, well, bring me my tea before you go find these new wonderful mates of yours.”
It’s utterly hopeless. I’m on my own. Neither of them seems to understand how desperate I’ve become. Logan and I can’t be over. We just can’t be. Had I known, I would have really savored the last time we were together, Sunday morning in his bed. When we had sex, it was quick and hard and we kissed like we were trying to bruise each other, but now I wish it’d been longer, sweeter…
I feel sick.
Wednesday is no better than Tuesday, but at least I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in the late morning to keep me distracted. When I arrive downstairs, prepared to head out onto the sidewalk toward my subway stop, a huge man steps away from his post against the brick and introduces himself to me.
“Candace Williams, I’m Ryan Kline. Mr. Matthews has employed me as part of your security team.”
“Security team?” I nearly bark out a laugh. “What are you on about?”
He tugs a wallet out of his black suit jacket to reveal a small certificate. I have no idea what it means, but I nod like I do. It’s got a gold seal, so that must count for something.
“So you’re…what?” I ask, peering up at him. I’ve got a long way to go before I meet his gaze. He’s quite a large bloke. “My bodyguard?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I nearly laugh. Me? With a bodyguard? It’s got to be a joke.
“How many others are there?”
He did mention a team.
“Three in total. We’ve been taking shifts outside your building since Sunday evening.”
“What?! How am I just hearing about this now?”
“We haven’t made contact because you haven’t left your building until now.”
Oh right. Okay, let’s not go into details. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, convalescing, not just being a lazy git.
“Mr. Matthews gave us strict instructions not to intrude on your privacy,” he continues, and I nod along, utterly baffled.
Logan hasn’t phoned me back, but he’s set up a security team for me? What in the world is he playing at?
“Right, well, it was nice to meet you. I’m off to the doctor now.”
“Of course. Lead the way.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Mr. Matthews has instructed that we’re to remain with you, without breaching your personal space.”
What?!
I don’t even bother arguing with him; he’s only doing the job he’s been employed to do. Instead, I grab my mobile out of my purse and phone Logan.
This time, he answers.
I don’t bother with a greeting. This isn’t a friendly chat, after all. He could have had that if he’d ever bothered to phone me back in the previous three days. Now, he’ll get my temper.
“What on earth have you done hiring a team of people to follow me around the city?”
“Hello, Candace,” he says pointedly, sounding amused. “How are you feeling?”
“Now’s not the time for that. I’m still upset with you. Answer me, will you?”
“They’re highly qualified and trained to remain out of sight. I’ve used them myself on and off for the last few years. I assure you, you won’t even notice them.”
“Not bloody likely! They’re security guards!”
“Yes, and after Sunday, their presence is absolutely necessary. In fact, I should have done it when we first started dating.”
“But we aren’t dating anymore, so you can call them off.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Oh is it?!”
“Candace, are you on the way to the doctor?” he asks, sounding exasperated with me. Tough luck, bucko! I’m the one who’s exasperated!
“Yes, and how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve been in contact with your medical team, just to ensure everything is going well.”
“Isn’t that illegal?!”
“No. I was with you at the hospital. I’m listed as your emergency contact, and you signed papers to allow me access to your ongoing care information.”
“Right, well I must have been a bit out of it when I did that. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I can’t believe you’ve been in contact with them but not me!”
“I thought you needed some time to cool off.”
“Well you’re wrong. I’m not cooled off. Not in the least. In fact, I feel like I’m about to—”
Instead of giving him a piece of my mind like I want to, I pull the mobile away from my ear and end the call quickly. It feels good. So good, in fact, that I wish I could phone him again and hang up on him a second time.
I glance back at Ryan, who’s been following me on the sidewalk this whole time, and sure enough, he’s acting completely oblivious to the conversation he just overheard. Huh. So maybe he is good at his job.
I continue walking toward my subway stop then turn my head to see him trailing a few feet behind me. I stop. He stops. I take a step forward. He takes a step forward. I lift my right hand to wave it in the air. His right hand stays by his side. Right, well then.
“Come on. If you’ll be walking with me, there’s no sense in trailing me like a shadow. I’d rather chat anyway. I get quite bored on these walks.”
He nods and picks up his pace until he’s right beside me.
“Have you got a girlfriend?” I ask, because at heart, I am incredibly nosey. I want to know everything about everyone.
“Wife,” he says, all business.
“And what’s she called?”
“Bianca.”
“Can I see a photo?”
He tugs out his wallet again and flashes me a small photo of him and her, along with a little baby girl. It’s so sweet that he carries the image around like that, especially when everyone’s got their mobiles these days.
“Is that your daughter?” I ask, pointing to the baby.
“Yes. That’s Hope.”
“She’s lovely. So cute. She takes after your wife, I think.”
“Absolutely. They could be twins.”
We carry on like that, chatting and getting to know each other better until we reach my subway stop. It’s there that I spot the first photographer. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out a few of them had been trailing me since I left my flat, but this is the first one to try to get in my face.
“Candace! How are you feeling?!” he shouts. “Is it true that you needed brain surgery when you were in the hospital?”
He barely gets the words out before Ryan steps up to him and stretches out his arms, blocking me from view.
“Back up. Farther. Give her space.”
The photographer nearly pees his trousers when he gets a load of Ryan. This is brilliant! I can already tell I’m going to abuse my power. Maybe I could
use Ryan to cut the queue at my favorite coffee shop. I’ll have him march in and terrorize everyone waiting in front of me so they all scream and run out, leaving me at the front. Voilà.
After my doctor’s appointment, I text Logan.
CANDACE: Not that it’s any of your business, but everything is healing up nicely. They think I can get my stitches out on Friday. Oh wait…what am I telling you for? They’ve probably already phoned to tell you the news!
LOGAN: I’m glad. Are you back at work already?
CANDACE: Tomorrow.
LOGAN: You aren’t working at District, are you?
I’m not. I’ve called in for the whole week, but I don’t feel like telling him that.
CANDACE: I don’t think that’s your business.
He phones me then! My mobile starts ringing and I shove it into my purse.
Then Ryan’s mobile goes off and he, of course, answers it.
“Hello—yes—I’ll tell her—yes—of course.”
Then he hangs up.
“Well?! What’s he said?” I demand.
“He doesn’t think you should be waitressing anymore, but if you insist on it, a member of my team should be there with you the whole time.”
Oh good grief!
I throw up my hands and walk on. “Let’s go, you. Where should we eat lunch? Do you like sandwiches?”
He seems extremely confused, like I’ve just asked him to do the worm down the middle of the sidewalk. “I don’t usually eat on the job.”
“Right, well, you will with me. I’m not going to have you watching me chew my crisps like a weirdo.”
“Okay then, there’s a good place around the corner.”
I motion for him to lead the way.
Thursday is my first day back at school since last Friday, and the kids must have decorated the room yesterday so I’d see it all when I arrived. There’re big letters that say “Get Well Soon, Ms. Candace!” and loads of streamers. They’ve even tidied it up (I’m sure with the help of the temp), and it’s a really lovely way to start the day.
When they start to arrive, each of them rushes to give me a hug and asks me how I’m feeling. I don’t have the bandage on my head anymore, which is quite a relief as it was getting a bit itchy under there. I’ve still got my hand wrapped up to protect the stitches, but they all think it’s quite cool and I even let them decorate on it so it ends up a colorful mess by the time they’re set to leave for the afternoon.
I start to gather their things and load them up with their lunch sacks. One by one, they leave, until Briggs is the only one left.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Candace. My uncle didn’t forget about me,” he says with a huge smile. “He said he’d be a little late for pick-up today.”
“Oh, did he?”
All day, I’ve told myself I wasn’t excited to see Logan, but it’s no use. I didn’t slip out to the loo and freshen up my makeup during naptime just for the fun of it. I am eagerly anticipating his arrival at my door, so much so that I’m a nervous wreck.
I tidy up the pillows in the reading corner. Then, suddenly, I hate how they’re arranged and decide to completely redo them. That’ll do…for now. Next, I rewash the brushes in the sink that we used during art class. It takes quite a long time using only the one hand.
I’m nearly finished when there’s a knock on the door, and I turn to glance over my shoulder. Logan’s standing on the other side of the half-opened Dutch door with a bouquet of white peonies in his hand. He’s dressed to the nines: black suit, black tie, crisp white shirt underneath his unbuttoned fitted jacket.
He is, in short…divine.
I don’t even have enough sense to walk over to greet him, but fortunately Briggs is there as a distraction.
“You look like a secret agent, Uncle Logan!”
Yes, very 007 of him to show up here like that.
I dry my hand with a towel and head for the door, highly aware of every step I take that carries me toward him. He’s watching me with a little smile, every bit as confident as he’s ever been.
“Who are the flowers for?” I ask, crossing my arms once I’m close enough to him to feel that little tug of energy that seems to exist between us.
“Briggs’ teacher. I’ve got a thing for her.”
Briggs gags like he might throw up. “Girls are so gross!”
Right. I accept the flowers when he holds them out for me and try hard to ignore their beauty, but they’re quite huge and there are enough of them that they’re heavy in my hand.
“Where are you off to?” I ask, nodding toward his clothes.
“A dinner with the team from Gatorade. I wanted to invite you.”
“I can’t go. I’ve got plans.”
With my sofa.
“You didn’t answer my call yesterday.”
“I’m a busy girl.”
He tips his head, looking at me like he can’t get enough. His eyes crinkle and he’s not mad, even though he should be. Why isn’t he mad?
“So do you have plans all weekend?” he asks.
Yes. Tomorrow night, I’m going round to Jay’s for dinner. Kat’s been telling me about it nonstop, droning on about what she and Jay plan on cooking, how great Jay is in the kitchen, what dress she plans on wearing…la de dah. Now I know how she and Yasmine must have felt when I wouldn’t shut up about Logan.
Anyway, he asked me a question, so I’ll answer.
“Yes, I do have plans, as a matter of fact. Plans tonight. Plans tomorrow. Plans straight through the weekend. Do you?”
His smile widens. “Yeah.”
“You two are being weird,” Briggs declares. “Are you going to get married?”
I nearly choke.
“What?! Why would you—”
“Should I ask her to marry me, Briggs?” Logan asks with a lazy smile.
“LOGAN!”
“Yeah, she’s cool. Not like the girls in my class who are scared of worms.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Logan says, glancing back up to me with mischief in his gaze. “We’d better get going so Candace isn’t late for her plans.”
“Yes, thank you.” I nod. “Very considerate. Bye, Briggs.”
“See you later, alligator!”
“In a while, crocodile.”
Later that evening, I’m lying in bed trying to force myself to get into a book that’s been sitting on my nightstand for ages. It’s not that I don’t like to read; it’s that my brain doesn’t seem to want to concentrate lately.
Kat is gone, off at Jay’s just like she’s been the last two nights. They must be getting on well then. I turn a page—having not absorbed a single thing from the previous one—and I continue on like that until my mobile rings on my nightstand.
It’s Logan, and I answer it because I’m weak and in love. Sue me.
“Hello.”
“Hi. How were your plans?”
“Wonderful. I’ve just finished making out with a hunk. What about you?”
“I’m home from my dinner. It was boring without you.”
“Well of course it was. What did you expect?”
“Are you in bed?”
“’Course not. I’m at a huge party.”
“Sounds like you’re lying down.”
“That’s ’cause I am, you knob. Are you happy then? I’m lying here in my pajamas like I have been for the last three hours. I hope you’re pleased.”
“I am. Now, do you want me to come get you?”
“Absolutely not!”
“How long are we going to do this then?”
“Do what?”
“The back and forth where you pretend you aren’t crazy about me. We had a fight. It happens.”
“Yes, well it was a pretty big one, I’d say!”
“I agree, but it was warranted. Things between us turned serious pretty fast, and I hadn’t stopped to consider how best to protect you. On top of the security guards, I still think it makes sense to have you move in here with me. Ry
an isn’t impressed with your building, and he doesn’t think it’s the best place for you to live.”
“Oh, I see. You’ve got Ryan agreeing with you, then? How convenient that he sides with the man paying him.”
“Like that matters. He likes you more than he likes me. He says you talk a lot.”
“Of course I do. He’s my mate. I think he’d follow me around all day even if it wasn’t his job.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is that the reason you’ve phoned? To bother me?”
“Am I bothering you?”
No. Please never hang up.
“I suppose not.”
There’s a long pause, and then he sort of sighs like he’s exhausted. “I miss you, Candace.”
“Yes, well, that’s good. Maybe you’ll appreciate me more in the future then.”
“This is the last night,” he says, all confident.
“The last night of what?”
“That I’ll let you do this. I’m not going through the entire weekend without seeing you.”
“Well, sounds like you have your work cut out for you! Nice chatting. Talk soon!”
I hang up then stare down at the mobile, my stomach in knots.
I shouldn’t be so excited by his threat. I should be extremely worried about what he intends to do before the weekend is through.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Logan
I’m outside Jay’s apartment, about to go in. Before I do, I glance down at my clothes, assessing them like I’ve never cared to do before. I’m nervous tonight, on edge.
With a groan of annoyance, I force myself to knock on Jay’s door, and he shouts for me to come in.
In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never invited me over for a dinner party. There’ve been club outings, dinners at steakhouses, parties with models, sure. Tonight, I have no idea what he’s planning, but I know Candace will be here, so I didn’t hesitate to accept his invitation—even if it was sent over on formal letterhead.
His apartment is nice and ultramodern, lots of sharp edges and white furniture. Or at least it is usually…
