All of Me

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All of Me Page 26

by Leeanna Morgan

CHAPTER EIGHT

  The doorbell jingled as someone walked into Angel Wings Café. Logan looked up and watched a family of six rearrange tables and chairs so everyone could sit together.

  “I get why you moved here. But what I don’t understand is why you’ve stayed so long.” Jilly glanced at him with the same wide-eyed look she used when she couldn’t figure him out.

  Logan bit into his toasted sandwich. It was easier than having to answer her question right away. He’d dated Jilly for two months when she’d first started working at the Seattle Times. It hadn’t taken them long to realize they were better friends than anything else. So they’d broken up and lived their own lives.

  Over the last four years, Jilly had worked her way through different departments at the paper. Last year she’d become the lifestyle reporter. No minor achievement when other reporters were nipping at her heels to get their foot in the door.

  “I’ve only been here for a year,” he said.

  “More than a year. You weren’t in Seattle for my last birthday either.”

  Logan smiled. “I heard all about your thirtieth birthday. From the sound of it, you didn’t miss me.”

  Jilly flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder. She didn’t look impressed. “It’s the principle that counts. You said you’d be there.”

  Logan knew that no matter how annoyed Jilly might seem on the outside she didn’t stay angry for long. “I wasn’t fit for human company.”

  Jilly lost the arrogant tilt to her head. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Better. I’m not writing about earth-shattering events, but I like what I’m doing. Doris Stanley brought me one of her award winning pies last week. I’d written an article about the little league team her grandson plays in.”

  Jilly’s internal radar pricked to attention. “Award winning?”

  “Wildflower Festival blue ribbon award. Three times in a row.”

  Jilly groaned. “I thought you were going to tell me the name of some big culinary award.”

  Annie walked toward them. She gave him a questioning look as she took the dirty dishes off the table beside theirs. “Jilly, this is Annie. She works at Angel Wings Café in the morning, and for a lawyer’s office in the afternoon.”

  Jilly smiled at Annie. “Hi. Lunch was delicious.”

  Annie frowned. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “Annie is part of The Bridesmaids Club.”

  Jilly’s smile grew wider. “I read Logan’s story about what you did. I think it’s amazing.”

  Annie’s frown didn’t leave her face. “We did it to help someone. Can I have a quick word with you, Logan?”

  He glanced at Jilly.

  “You go. I’ve got to catch up on my emails anyway. It was nice meeting you, Annie.”

  Logan pushed his chair out and followed Annie to the other side of the room.

  “What are you doing bringing another woman in here? I thought you liked Tess?”

  Annie had dropped her voice to a hushed whisper. She looked annoyed. He wouldn’t have minded if he’d done something wrong, but he couldn’t work out what her problem was. “Jilly’s a friend. I wanted to introduce her to everyone.”

  “You’re going to get yourself into trouble. You don’t introduce a female friend to another female friend. Especially if the second female friend has feelings for you.”

  Logan took a few minutes to work out what Annie had said. “Are you telling me that Tess likes me?”

  “Of course she likes you. She makes you muffins and leaves them on the door handle. She never left your side at Mrs. Thompson’s funeral.”

  The funeral had been four days ago. Connie and her family had been devastated. During the service he’d thought about his own mom, about how he’d feel if it had been her that had died. He thought about the children and soldiers that had died in Afghanistan.

  Just when everything became too much, he felt Tess’ hand slide into his. She’d held his hand for the rest of the service, until the hearse had left the church and everyone had said goodbye. “Tess was being kind.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t date anyone. She’s forgotten how to tell a man she’s interested.”

  Logan could sympathize with Tess’ lack of practice. His social life was worse than hers. Which would account for why he kept turning up at the café instead of asking her out on a date.

  “Oh, no.” Annie looked across the room. “Tess is at your table. She’s talking to your friend.”

  Logan watched Tess’ face as she refilled their coffee mugs. She frowned, then looked across the café at him.

  Annie pushed his arm. “You’d better sort out the mess you’ve created.”

  He couldn’t work out what mess he’d created, but then he wasn’t much of an expert. Especially when it came to relationship messes. Apart from the frown on Tess’ face, she looked fine. He didn’t know what Annie was worried about.

  He walked back to his table and smiled at Tess. “Hi, Tess. This is Jilly. She’s a friend from Seattle.”

  Tess looked between him and Jilly. “We’ve met. Nice to meet you, Jilly.”

  If Logan hadn’t known Tess for as long as he had, he could have been forgiven for mistaking her greeting as a friendly hello. But he knew better. The smile on Tess’ face was about as genuine as the Van Gogh sunflower painting on the wall.

  He held his coffee mug toward Tess so she could refill it. “Jilly was asking me about The Bridesmaids Club. She read the second article I wrote and wanted to come and meet you.”

  Hot coffee sloshed over the edge of his mug and onto the floor. Tess looked horrified. “Sorry, Logan. I’ll go and get a cloth and wipe up the mess.” She disappeared out the back of the café in two seconds flat.

  Jilly stared at the kitchen door. “What’s Tess’ last name?”

  “Williams. Why?” Logan left his coffee mug on the table and grabbed a couple of paper napkins to start mopping up the mess.

  “I’ve seen her face before, but I can’t place her. Where did she live before she came to Bozeman?”

  “I don’t know where she lived. Her grandparents owned this building and left it to her after they died.”

  Tess came back holding a damp cloth and started cleaning the floor. “You don’t need to clean up the mess, Logan. I can do it. I’m sure you’ve got other things you need to do.”

  Logan frowned at Tess’ bent head. It wasn’t like her to want to get him out of the café.

  “Tess is right,” Jilly said. “I promised my editor I’d check in with her before one o’clock. It was nice meeting you, Tess.”

  Tess stopped wiping the floor. She sat as still as a sniper in the middle of a war zone. Her head slowly lifted and for or a split second Logan saw nothing but panic in her eyes. Then she blinked and the panic disappeared.

  “You’re a reporter?” Tess’ face had gone white.

  “For the Seattle Times. How long have you lived in Bozeman?”

  Tess looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Your accent,” Jilly said. “It’s not from around here.”

  “I’ve lived in lots of different places.” Tess looked at the dishcloth in her hand. “I don’t want to keep you from your editor. Have a nice day.” And before Logan knew what she was going to do, Tess left.

  Jilly picked up her bag and slipped her cell phone into the side pocket. “I’d better get going, too. Are we still meeting for dinner tonight?”

  Logan stood up. “Seven o’clock in the restaurant at your hotel.” He followed Jilly out of the café. “Try not to work too hard this afternoon.”

  She smiled and waved her hand at the street in front of them. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there isn’t a lot happening here.”

  “I guess you’ll have to dig below the surface, then. There must be a billionaire’s ranch you could write about?”

  Jilly tilted her head to the side. “Billionaires are over-rated. I’m looking for something real. I’ll see
you at seven.”

  Logan watched her throw her bag on the back seat of her rental and drive down Main Street. He needed to get back to work, but before he met Jilly tonight he needed to see Tess. He wanted to explain, tell her that Jilly was his friend and nothing more.

  And if she asked him why he was telling her that, he didn’t know what he’d say. Because saying anything would let Tess know that he cared about her. And caring about anyone was a dangerous thing to do.

 

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