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Private Confessions
“There’s a couple women who’ve interested me.”
Unfortunately, one was off limits and the other was a fantasy, probably living in a trailer in Cheyenne, Wyoming.
“Yeah? Tell me about them.”
He’d rather not. Discussing Scorpio63 was out of the question. He hadn’t even admitted to Dane that he’d logged on to the site. Telling him he’d fallen for his virtual sex partner was out of the question.
Discussing Trisha was equally unappealing, although Dane would definitely give him a fresh, if not sordid, perspective where that was concerned. Given the state he was in, he could use the advice, no matter how one-sided it would probably be.
He took a swig of his beer and decided, what the hell?
“There’s a woman at the agency,” Logan started. “Smart, funny, killer body. She’s top in her game.”
“What is she, a secretary?”
“Marketing director.” He popped a pretzel in his mouth and added, “I’m thinking of promoting her to VP.”
Dane threw his head back and spoke to the ceiling. “What are you, a masochist or just brain dead?”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Then what the hell are you doing? Logan, you’re just getting the business back on track. Have you got some kind of aversion toward success?”
“Bill doesn’t think she’s another Virginia.”
Dane stared at him blankly. “Bill’s an idiot.”
Dane calling Bill an idiot was like Moe Howard calling Larry Fine a stooge. Neither of them were the brightest bulbs when it came to women, which was why Logan fit right in. In this kingdom of idiots, he’d be the court jesters since Bill and Dane were happy with their love lives and hadn’t managed to destroy their careers, which gave them one leg up on him.
Deciding to play devil’s advocate, he went on. “Bill could be right.”
“Okay,” Dane said, apparently willing to play. “Let me ask a few questions.”
“Shoot.”
“How long has she worked there?”
“Two years.”
“And you’re already thinking VP?”
“She deserves it. Advertising’s in her blood. She’s a natural, someone I intend to keep.”
“So she’s another woman on a fast track to the top.”
“Not necessarily. She hasn’t expressed displeasure with her position. If you recall, Virginia had been the one pushing for promotions. This woman hasn’t uttered a word.”
“But you’re going to do it anyway.”
“If she lands this account, we’ll need a VP. She’s good. I’ve got no reason to pass her up for someone else.”
“And I take it if you’re interested that means she’s available.”
“Yes,” Logan said, that chilling feeling returning to his gut.
He’d been shocked when she’d told him she didn’t have a boyfriend. A woman like Trisha should have been snatched up years ago; he couldn’t help recall that same surprise when he’d met Virginia. Back then, he’d chalked it up to his good luck. This time, it gave him that eerie feeling history was repeating itself.
“But that doesn’t have to mean anything,” he added, as much for himself as for Dane. “Lots of bright, attractive women are available.”
“And they all happen to work for you.”
“I think I’m just being paranoid.”
“I think you’re just being a fool. What happened to swearing off women in advertising? Logan, you can have any woman you want in this city. Why someone who works for you?”
Because that’s where he spent all his time. Rebuilding a company hadn’t left him with much of a social life, and besides, he happened to like women who shared that common bond.
“Dating Virginia wasn’t my downfall. Marrying her and making her a full partner was.”
“And you think you’ve got what it takes to be a lifelong bachelor? Come on, Logan. You were always the marrying type.”
Not anymore. He’d been burned once, he wouldn’t be burned again. Any woman in his future would have to accept marriage only if and when he chose it. Virginia had pushed for that contract. She’d delivered an ultimatum—marriage or nothing—and rather than lose her, he’d uttered “I do” and walked straight into disaster.
That was one threshold he wouldn’t cross until he felt ready and if an ultimatum came sooner than that the next woman would get a very different answer.
“Maybe I am, but I won’t be pushed there, and the right woman will accept that.”
“You really believe that?”
He gulped the last of his beer. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”
TRISHA LOOKED OVER the final mock-ups of their presentation for Tyndale’s Cape Horn resort, stacked the pages in her folder and walked down to Logan’s office, hoping he would be there. She needed his final approval today to have the materials ready for the meeting with the Tyndale folks.
Since his personal assistant wasn’t at her desk, she peeked around the open door to find him talking on the phone. Logan glanced up and as usual waved a hand for her to enter, raising a finger to indicate he’d be just a moment.
She stepped into the room and waited, allowing her eyes to admire the strong hollows of his cheeks that turned to creases when he smiled.
He chuckled, his laugh spinning sparks in her chest. He had the sexiest laugh she’d ever heard, low and easy, the kind that she could easily envision hearing in the dark, between the sheets.
She blinked away the thought. She’d come too far these last few days in her effort to get over Logan. Moving her chats with Pisces out of the office had been a start. Their Caribbean fantasy had done wonders to calm her nerves and her nine-to-five life. She’d eased up around Logan and wasn’t about to start losing it now.
She turned her gaze to the window, allowing her mind to focus on the bright sunny afternoon and the soft sparkle of light that flickered off the windows of an adjacent building. She stepped to the window. Looking down at the wharf, she noted the bay was also calm today. The sky was a bright shade of blue and she found something relaxing in the bustle of the street below.
Her mind was at ease as she shifted her thoughts from the man behind the desk to the task at hand. She was truly pulling it together and the notion left her pleased.
Until a comment from Logan swept it all away.
“You’ve got it,” he said, adding, “Well, whenever you need me, I’m just a click away.”
The folder dropped from her hand, scattering papers onto the floor, but Trisha barely noticed. Her mouth hung open and her eyes fixed on Logan as he hung up the phone, his parting statement echoing in her ears.
Whenever you need me, I’m just a click away.
How many people said that? Was it common? She’d never heard it from anyone other than Pisces47—and now Logan Moore. The repercussions began to spin in her head with the force of a tornado. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. All she could do was stare blankly while she tried desperately to make her lungs expand and take in air.
“Trisha,” she heard him say, but she couldn’t respond, her mind reeling.
He rose from his desk, his face riddled with concern. “Are you okay?”
She glanced down to see her ad campaign splayed at her feet.
He rushed from his desk and reached out to touch her, and the sight of his hand nearing her shoulder made her jump. She tried to hide it by squatting to the floor, her shaking fingers attempting to gather the ads.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A ghost. Right now, she’d welcome a ghost, or a serial killer or a nine-point-nine earthquake—anything that would distract her from the conclusions filling her brain and sickening her stomach.
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