Page 27 of Stuck Together

He slid into the booth opposite me and out of the corner of my eye I could see his smile. We sat in silence for a few moments before I finally heard him take in a deep breath and speak. “I just wanted to—”

“Good morning.” The waitress returned. “What can I get you this morning?”

Logan looked from his menu to me and answered, “I’ll have what she’s having. That looks really good.”

The waitress nodded, poured him a cup of coffee, and left us alone once again.

He turned back to me with a heavy sigh. “Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have kissed you.”

He sounded so defeated and genuinely upset about how last night turned out. Damn him. How was I supposed to stay mad at him when he spoke to me like that.

I’m so weak.

I sat my fork down and looked up at him. “No Logan. It wasn’t just you. I kissed you back and I shouldn’t have done that.”

We held our eyes on each for several seconds before he looked down at his hands. He was nervously fiddling with his napkin. “Maybe we’re both saying sorry for the wrong thing. There are a lot of memories between us, mostly good. A lot of time has passed since that night, I just ...”

His voice faded out and he ran his fingers through his hair. Something I’d noticed he did often when he was uncomfortable.

I reached over and took his hand in mine. The same zap of energy shot through me that I’d felt last night. I started to let go but he squeezed my hand in return. “We can't go there, Logan. Or at least I can't. Not right now. Too much has happened in my life over the past six months and I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with our past on top of that. I need this job. I can’t afford to lose it because of our past relationship. Please understand that.”

“Why would you lose this job because of our past? You working for Althea Group has nothing to do with me.”

I rubbed my eyes, way too tired for this conversation. “You really don't get it, do you. Do you have any idea what happened to me before I came to work for your grandmother? Or even why I'm working for your grandmother?

He looked at me with confusion. Was it possible he hadn’t heard about how I got fired? Maybe he didn’t even know I was fired from my last job. If Althea and my grandma were back in matchmaker mode, Althea would probably keep that detail to herself.

I sighed. “Despite how great a reputation Althea Group has in this business, I wouldn't be here working for your grandmother if I didn't have any other choice. And trust me when I say, I'm not happy about taking a handout from your grandmother, and I'm certainly not happy about working with you. But it's either I take this handout, or I have to leave the city.”

He leaned forward with furrowed brows. “First, my grandmother doesn’t give handouts. If you weren’t qualified, you wouldn’t have gotten the job. And secondly, why would you have to leave the city?”

“Althea didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what? What am I missing here?”

“I was fired from my last job.” I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned.

His shoulders slumped. “Why?”

“My boss hit on me, and I filed a complaint with HR against him. The company stood behind him and they fired me. As a result, I've been blacklisted from every advertising and marketing firm in the city. I only got this job from your grandmother because my grandma called her and told her how dire my situations was. So, clearly I’m not happy about this.”

Logan’s jaw clenched and his hands balled up into fists. “Did you hurt you?”

“What?”

“Your last boss. Did he hurt you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, it was only verbal.”

He relaxed, but only slightly, before he picked up his coffee and took a drink. His eyes wandered around the dining room. He was actively trying to avoid looking at me. I watched him for a moment, then shook my head. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and honestly, I had no business worrying about what he thought about me. The past was the past and I had to focus on the future. A future where Logan and I were nothing more than colleagues.

I turned back to my breakfast, my French toast getting cold. I took a couple bites before he spoke again.

“I can guarantee my grandmother hiring you had nothing to do with pity. You got the job because you're qualified. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. My grandmother may love you and consider you family, but business is business, and she doesn’t give handouts. Not even to family. So you can at least rest assure that you got this job because of your qualifications, not because of our family connection.”

I swallowed the bite that was stuck in my throat. I really hoped he was right, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever really believe that. “It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I prove that I deserve to here. I can’t afford to screw it up. And I can't have you screwing it up for me, because I let you mess with my head. I can't go through that again.”

“What makes you think I would mess with your head?”