by A. C. Arthur
Logan shrugged. “Don’t look at me, I’m good. Just got a new account that will probably take me to a promotion, still staying out of trouble and hittin’ the gym with Jack.”
Jack Kane was Logan’s mentor and trainer. He was the only man Logan had accepted as a father figure after his mother kicked he paternal father out for being a verbally abusive brute.
“And I’ve been so wrapped up in my new school, the students, parents and the lack of funds the school system provides for teachers to do their job adequately, that I’ve barely had the time to talk to Mama,” Maxie added.
That left Cassie.
They were sitting in the dining room with the heavy oak table, chairs, hutch and a china cabinet that had been there since they were kids. Golden yellow wallpaper matched the heavy drapes at the wide window and each of their high school graduation pictures hung on the side walls that formed an arch going into the living room.
Logan sat next to the youngest of their tribe. They were across the table from Perry, Steph and Maxie. It was funny how they all took the same seats at the dining room table that they had when they were little. Back then, the boys hadn’t wanted to seem like they were overpowering the girls, so Logan had been forced to switch places with Maxie. It most likely wasn’t intentional, but that act had sort of sealed the deal that Logan and Cassie would have a closer relationship than the remaining siblings.
She didn’t respond so Logan nudged her with his elbow. “What’s going on?”
When she looked up Logan’s chest instantly tightened at the sight of tears in her eyes.
Joanna came back into the room at that moment and took her seat. She lifted the glass she’d been carrying and took a gulp before setting it down on the table and looking at her children.
“Cassie’s pregnant.”
The laughter that had previously echoed throughout the room was gone, and so was any semblance of calm and comfort after Joanna’s words.
One tear streamed down Cassie’s face. Logan did not know what to say, but he took his sister’s hand. Cassandra Chae Palmer had been born premature. When his mother brought her home from the hospital, three months after her birth, she was still the smallest human being Logan ever recalled seeing. She was smaller than the dolls that Maxie owned at the time. When she was four, Cassie was diagnosed with asthma and from that point on spent most of the summer months sitting on the front steps while all the other kids ran up and down playing. Joanna was serious when it came to her babies, and the thought of having to rush Cassie to the hospital because she couldn’t breathe was not an option.
“Who’s the father?” Perry asked.
That was the next question to run through Logan’s mind, but he hadn’t thought of a way to say it that would have prevented that stricken look now on Cassie’s face.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Her response was quick and not nearly enough for Perry.
“That’s not true. It matters very much who shares the responsibility of raising this child with you,” their older brother insisted.
“Wait.” Maxie leaned closer to the table and held a hand up in Perry’s direction. “We haven’t even let her decide if she’s keeping this baby. I’m assuming she’s early on in the pregnancy because she’s not showing at all. And she still borrows half my clothes so I’d know if there’d been a change in her body.”
“Whoa, wait a minute.” Steph was now shaking his head. He rubbed his hands together and then flattened his palms on the table. “You’re thinking she should abort the baby? A human life?”
“I’m saying it’s her choice what she wants to do with her body,” Maxie countered.
“A choice that should be made with the father. Now tell me his name,” Perry insisted.
“How about we all take a step back and let her talk,” Logan suggested.
Joanna nodded in his direction. She often let the squabbles between them play out—as long as they hadn’t escalated to the physical—so that her children would learn to problem solve on their own. To an extent it had worked. Logan was a great problem solver at the office. But he hadn’t always used the logical approach to his problems.
Cassie lifted her arm and used the back of her hand to wipe away the one tear.
“Look, I’m grown,” she started.
“You’re twenty-two,” Perry interrupted.
“She’s an adult,” Maxie interjected.
Logan rubbed the back of Cassie’s other hand. “Say what you have to say, Cassie.”
He understood Perry’s frustration at this moment because Logan was feeling a bit of it himself, but he was determined to let her speak and possibly go upstairs to his old room before he let loose with the curses and anger that bubbled in the pit of his stomach at hearing this news. Cassie was too young to have a baby. She had her whole life ahead of her. The last thing Logan wanted was for a baby to stop her from finishing college and becoming all that she could be.
“I’m old enough to know what I’ve done,” Cassie continued. “I have another year in school and I don’t have a full-time job. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of this baby.”
“Or Mama can take care of it,” Perry stated.
Maxie shook her head at Perry. “You’re such a jerk. We’re all here to help if her decision is to keep it.”
“Sounds like that’s her decision,” Steph said.
“I know what I’m going to do!”
Cassie pulled her hand away from Logan’s after that outburst.
“Look, I’m having a baby. It was Mama’s idea to tell everyone at this dinner, but make no mistake, I’m not sitting here asking anyone for permission to have my baby. And don’t ask me about the father again, Perry. It’s none of your business.”
With those final words Cassie got up from the table and went to her room. That part of the scene was something they’d seen plenty of times before. True to what was said about younger siblings, Cassie could be overly dramatic and emotional. Temper tantrums, stomping, dramatic exits, she’d perfected them all.
“Well, that went just about as I suspected it would go,” Joanna said a few minutes after Cassie’s exit.
Everyone was still sitting at the table, basically speechless that Cassie, the girl that was making the two year AA degree at Kingsborough Community College stretch to three and a half years and still hated being told it was her day to do dishes, was going to have a baby.
“She cannot have a baby,” Perry pronounced. “She’s a child. If not by age, by mentality. Look how she just stormed off.”
“And your misogynistic attitude had nothing to do with that,” Maxie quipped.
“Hey, I do not have anything against women. Cassie’s my sister and it’s my job to look after her,” he insisted.
“She’s also an adult, just like she said.” Steph reminded them.
“And she’s going to need all of our support. My baby is having a baby,” Joanna said. “I’m still in shock and not sure how I should feel about all of this. What I do know is that you all know better than to ever tear each other down, or to judge. Now, this is the situation so we’re going to deal with it.”
Perry picked up his glass and finished the punch he’d had with his dinner. “Does that mean I can’t find the dude and bust his head?”
“Nah, we should ride up on him and yank his ass into the car then drive him far, far away,” Steph suggested.
“And then bust his head,” Logan added.
“Idiots,” Maxie said and rolled her eyes.
Logan’s phone vibrated in his pocket just as his mother was about to say something. He pulled it out and stared down at the screen.
“I gotta take this.”
It was both a way to get out of hearing his mother admonish him and his brothers for their comments and an unusual delight to see the name Cheyna Dansfield pop up on his caller ID screen.
In the living room Logan dropped down onto the floral-print couch and put the phone to his ear. It dawned on him two seconds aft
er he answered that it felt like he was a teenager again, seeking privacy to talk to whichever girl he was crushing on at the moment.
“Hi, Logan. I just wanted to let you know that the engagement photo shoot is on for this Sunday morning at seven. The gallery opens at ten so Monica wants to get in and out before then.”
She talked fast but her words were spoken clearly and in a very professional manner. He liked the sound of her voice.
“That works for me. Do you want me to pull together the family?”
He’d sat back lifting a leg to rest one ankle on his knee. His gaze took in the old, but still in pristine condition, furniture in the room. He wondered if his mother would come in at any moment telling him to get the hell out of her living room the way she used to. That memory had him smiling.
“No. That’s not necessary. I ran the idea of the family participating as part of the campaign for the rebranding past Monica. She checked with Alex and they’re both fine with it so they’re going to reach out to their siblings to see how many of them can make it. Monica’s sister Deena lives in Nevada so she’s not sure if she’ll be able to come.”
That was unfortunate. Having all the Lakefield sisters together would have been great.
“That’s fine. We’ll work around it.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
“Hold on a minute.” Logan had sat up quickly, lowering his leg so that both feet were now on the floor, as if that act alone would keep her from hanging up the phone. He didn’t want her to go, didn’t want to stop hearing her voice. He also didn’t know why he was feeling that way and wasn’t going to concentrate on that at the moment.
“Yes?”
Her neatly arched brows had most likely lifted as she’d said that one word. She would be looking as if he were wasting her time by not immediately saying what he wanted, but Logan took his time. He liked catching her off guard.
“What are you doing right now? Are you still at the office?”
“Yes. But I’m going to be leaving soon.”
“How about I meet you there. We can have drinks and strategize how we want the shoot to go.”
Logan knew he was reaching. His mother’s house was in Brooklyn. Cheyna’s office was an hour away. Still, he hoped she’d say yes.
“No.”
It was a quick and simple answer.
“We can discuss the plans tomorrow. I have some free time in the afternoon. I can call you around five-thirty. Is that alright with you?”
It wasn’t and again Logan was just beginning to figure out why.
“I’ll be at your office at five forty-five. Have a good night, Cheyna.”
Logan disconnected the call before she could give him a reason why he shouldn’t come to her office.
He wanted to see her again. He wanted to keep hearing her voice.
Logan was beginning to think all of this meant he might want to sleep with the pretty dancing event planner.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
No. She wasn’t.
Cheyna hadn’t been okay since seeing Lt. Sinclair on Monday night. That was two nights ago and in that time, her thoughts periodically returned to the twenty months of stress and discomfort she’d experienced at ZV Events before her resignation was eventually accepted. Liam Edison had been a thorn in Cheyna’s side for almost two years, until she’d finally had enough of his sexual harassment and intimidation tactics and reported him to the human resources department. To date, she was still shocked at how appallingly wrong she’d been about taking that step. She should have known better and had routinely berated herself for that misstep. But when things continued to go downhill from that point, Cheyna had turned to the police. Lt. Ramsey Sinclair had been her savior. Now, all this time later, he’d shown up to question her about a murder. My how the tide had shifted.
Shaking her head, Cheyna looked up to see Sarah standing in front of her desk. “I’m fine. Are we all set for the Brentwood party on Saturday?”
Sarah stood with her arms folded over her chest, her eyes narrowed at Cheyna as if she still did not believe the answer Cheyna had provided.
“All set. Evan’s going to pick up the centerpieces because the florist Mia Brentwood wanted to use closes at five and we cannot get into the venue until six-thirty. Caterers have the final head count. The band has been confirmed. And that special gift Mia planned for her husband’s sixtieth birthday is scheduled to be unveiled at exactly eight forty-five.”
The details to their next event were rattled off with practiced precision from her top assistant and Cheyna was proud. She ran a well-organized business with two of the best professionals in the industry. That should mean she had nothing to worry about. That was not true.
“The surprise being a Vietnamese Pot Belly pig.” Cheyna still couldn’t believe that’s what her client wanted to give her husband for his birthday.
“An awful surprise if you ask me. What sixty year-old man wants a pig for his birthday present?”
“The kind who already has a thirty year-old wife with a body he’s shelled out thousands of dollars to perfect.”
Evan had a knack for entering a room at just the right time.
Cheyna smiled at his quick retort.
“Okay, sounds like we’re all on point for that event.” She closed the binder marked Brentwood and placed it in the bin on the far right corner of her desk.
“In the next two weeks we need to finalize all details on the four holiday parties we have in December. It’s going to be a busy month with the wedding being added,” she told them.
“Speaking of which,” Evan began.
After handing her two pieces of mail, he stood to the side of her desk.
“An engagement photo shoot at the Lakefield Galleries should be fun. But at seven in the morning? Lawd, Cheyna what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking these photos need to be original and exceptional and done as soon as possible.”
“They’ve been engaged for a few years now and everybody in the world already knows that,” Evan continued with a “duh” facial expression.
“I think it’s cute,” Sarah offered. “The press is going to love it especially since the whole city has been waiting for this wedding to finally take place.”
“Not me. I’m more interested in Gabriella Bennett’s wedding photos. She’s marrying that fine cowboy.” Evan used his hand to fan himself, his eyes rolling back as if he were really about to faint.
Sarah shook her head and Cheyna chuckled.
“That cowboy is definitely off the market, so you should probably begin swooning in another direction.”
“Hello?”
Cheyna, Sarah and Evan looked up at the sound of the front door closing. Sarah moved first, hurrying out into the waiting room to greet whomever had come inside. Cheyna looked at the clock on her desk and noted the time. Something fluttered in her stomach and she cleared her throat seconds before Sarah stepped back into her office once more.
“Logan Williams from The Masori Group is here to see you. He said you had an appointment but I don’t see anything on the schedule.”
Cheyna stood. “I didn’t have time to add it.”
“Oh, okay,” Sarah said. She stepped closer to the desk and motioned for Evan to do the same before she began to whisper. “He’s hot! Is this business or personal?”
Cheyna had asked herself that question more than a few times since meeting Logan. But for the sake of her employees and their overactive libidos, she replied sternly, “Business. Paul Lakefield is a client of The Masori Group. Mr. Williams and I are working together to create a fabulous wedding for Monica and a new branding campaign for the gallery.”
And that was that. Cheyna moved around her desk, ignoring the still questioning gazes from her staff and headed out to the reception area. She heard them following behind her like anxious children on Christmas day.
“Hello, Logan. These are my assistants, Sarah and Evan. They’ll be attending the photo shoot on Su
nday.”
Sarah stood to one side of Cheyna, waving her hand a bit more enthusiastically than was necessary.
Logan smiled at her. “Nice to meet you, Sarah.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Logan Williams,” Evan said before stepping forward with his hand extended.
Logan accepted the hand for a quick shake. “Same here, Evan. Will you be joining us for the meeting this evening?”
Evan opened his mouth to respond, but Cheyna quickly interjected. “No. They will not. I’ll see you two in the morning. Logan, you can follow me.”
Cheyna stepped to the side and extended her arm toward her office signaling Logan to go inside. When he did, Cheyna looked back at her staff. She should have known that was a mistake. Evan was taking his swooning to another level by letting his legs collapse beneath him and falling to the floor. While Sarah gave a double thumbs up and a huge grin.
Cheyna could only laugh at them. They were a funny and refreshing pair. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Seems like you have a nice set up here.”
Logan spoke as soon as she returned to the office. He’d also made himself comfortable by sitting on the couch and spreading pictures, she suspected were from the leather bag he carried, over the table.
“It works for me.” She tried to sound as casual as possible but truth be told, she wasn’t totally comfortable around him.
And that wasn’t because she suspected him of being the type of guy that Liam had been. Cheyna wanted to believe she’d spot that type a mile away and would have more than enough time to get out of his path. No, the thing about Logan was that he was too much like her—ambitious and tenacious. He was also terribly attractive. Now, that wasn’t normally an issue for Cheyna. She owned every part of her sexuality and had no emotional or physical hang-ups about being with a man. In fact, she had a fair amount of experience with men whom she’d had a good time with over the years. But she’d never enjoyed them while she was working with them. And she wasn’t about to start now.
Cheyna went to her desk, grabbed a pen and notepad and returned to the side of the room where he was sitting.