by Petrova, Em
“Jordana.” He waited until she opened her eyes. Crooking a finger under her chin, he said, “Please don’t let Miranda fix you up. I’d go crazy. Okay?”
Stunned, all she could do was nod. “O-okay.”
A small smile lifted his mouth. “Good.” He moved away, and moments later, she barely registered him walking her to her car and opening the driver’s side door after she unlocked it. “Drive safe,” she heard him say.
“Er, I will. Goodnight.”
It wasn’t until she started her car that she finally broke out of her daze. Her lips were still burning from his kiss, the rest of her aching. Glancing out the window, she saw him standing in front of his door, hands in pockets, watching her drive off.
She blew out a breath as she turned from his driveway. So, he didn’t want her to see anyone else. That would be no problem at all.
Chapter Six
Lunch with Logan day.
That’s what her sister called it. It was the fourth time in almost two weeks, and he was on his way to pick her up from the doctor’s office. She looked forward to their midday meals together, but she wondered why he had yet to ask her out on a real date—and why he hadn’t kissed her since that night at his house.
Miranda had called a week ago, asking if she was free Friday night—she knew a pediatrician who was dying to meet her—but Jordana informed her she was no longer interested.
All she wanted was Logan. But…
Were they dating or were they just casual? Had he possibly regretted kissing her? He certainly didn’t behave as though he did, still as charming and as flirtatious as ever. In any case, there was no need to rush into anything, like her sister often did.
Speaking of Lucee, she hadn’t heard from her in over a week, which was a little odd. Jordana texted her about having dinner on Monday but had yet to receive an answer, and it was Thursday.
Dr. Palecki left early for a long weekend, so the office was empty except for her and Piper. Her cell phone display showed zero text messages and calls, and she couldn’t help but check it every half hour. As flaky as Lucee could be, she usually returned messages in a day or two.
“He’s here,” Piper announced with a grin, watching as Logan’s sedan pulled up.
The level of her worries lessened when Logan got out of the car, smiling, to open the door for her. “What’s the menu of the day?” he asked. “The Italian place the other day gave me the greatest heartburn I’ve ever known, so try to remember my immediate health before you make a decision. I have to take pills for that, you know.”
She laughed softly. “Okay, how about something light, something simple? T-man,” she called to his driver with the nickname she’d made up for him. “Take us to The Last Spoon on 6th and Crestwood, please.”
“Yes, Miss Shaw.”
Logan chuckled. “You’re getting good at that.”
Once they arrived at the café and ordered their lunches, she discreetly checked her cell phone again. No Lucee.
“Everything okay?” Logan inquired. “You seem a little upset.”
“How can you tell?”
He wriggled his fingers. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you crack your knuckles one by one with your thumb when you’re worried about something.”
She stopped and set her hand in her lap. “I do?”
He nodded. “I started to notice when you spoke of an infant who needed ear plugs. And when you thought you’d be late after our lunch when we got stuck in traffic. Then the time you thought your debit card had been stolen.”
Geez. She had no idea she had a tell. “Well, guess I shouldn’t try to become a professional poker player. It’s just I haven’t heard from Lucee yet. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts, and I’ve been trying to reach her since Monday.”
“I see. I thought that was her signature communication. Few and far between. Delayed, sporadic texts.”
“It is her usual mode, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less worried until I hear from her.”
“I have a feeling she’s just being Lucee, lost in her own world. Is there anything I can do?”
She conjured up a smile. Since it wasn’t very polite to fidget when someone took you out to lunch, she tried to relax. “No. You’re right. She’ll call when she comes out of her bubble.”
Their food arrived, and after a few bites, he said, “Jordana, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.” He wiped his hands on the napkin, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown mailing envelope. Squeezing it open, he plucked out a few decorative greeting-like cards.
“What are those?” she asked.
“Party invitations. Autumn is one of the busiest seasons for social obligations. At least, it is for me. I told Ashtyn to narrow it down to those I absolutely cannot decline, because my schedule is already more than full. I have a trip to Hong Kong coming up, and I’ll be away for at least two weeks for that. Then I have to fly to Dallas to finalize a project of ours. We’re opening a new branch down there. Anyway…”
He held up a white 5x7 card with black lettering in a flowing font. “These are in no particular order. The black and white ball in L.A. honoring one of my mother’s closest friends, Marguerite Grey, who was like a second mom to me when I was little. They’re giving her an honorary award in daytime television. My mother says I have to go out of respect, only I know she’s insisting I attend so she can try to match me off with one of the dozen or so actresses’ single daughters. Functions like that used to be a good time, but I’ve learned many times over that…oh, how can I put this?” He slowly smiled. “I learned long ago I can’t handle an actress. Whether she’s a soap, reality, or movie star. They’re a lot of fun at first, but a challenge to keep up with. You see, my mother is…a handful. Felt a lot like living in a soap when I was young.”
The name Savant coupled with his mother being an actress made her perk up. “Wait a second. Is your mom Deidre Savant? The Deidre Savant from the show Heart’s Horizon?”
He nodded with a half smile. “You know it?”
“Of course I do. It’s one of the longest running soap operas on TV! I used to watch it all the time. Your mother was the ultimate villainess with a heart of gold. Is she still acting?” How come she didn’t put this together earlier? Maybe because he rarely mentioned his parents during their luncheon conversations.
“She exited the screen a few years ago and lives here now. Sometimes she thinks she’s still a star, however.”
“No wonder you dated so many actresses.”
He laughed. “A few, not many. Like I said, I had my share of fun, but one thespian in my life is more than enough.”
Jealousy curdled her blood, but Jordana batted it down, hoping the useless emotion didn’t show on her face. He’d look so good on the arm of a beautiful actress and would fit into the world of glamour and entertainment without effort. How many had he slept with? And why would a man who’d dated everyone from models to actresses be interested in her?
She wasn’t the only one who pondered it. Lucee and Piper had their theories after Googling him and seeing his rep as a serious ladies’ man. They came to the conclusion he’d gotten bored of his usual type and wanted to date someone “real.” Whatever that meant.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
She jerked, blushing. “Sorry. I was just thinking…” Of some excuse to cover my wandering mind. “That you could’ve been an actor yourself. Did you ever consider becoming one?” Totally pulled that one from thin air, but now that she’d asked, she was genuinely interested in the answer.
He shrugged and took a moment’s pause before he responded. “I think of acting as something one decides to do, one is passionate about, at a young age. That was never me. Much to my mom’s disdain, I have a lot of my dad’s temperament and personality. Range of emotion, at least the ability to show it at the snap of a finger, isn’t a talent I possess like she does. Maybe when I was thirteen, I gave acting a passing consideration after I met kids my age who
worked in showbiz. Actors get all the pretty girls, I noticed,” he added, and she chuckled. “My father started bringing me to the office once he became aware of how much time I was spending on the set after school. I complained, but believe it or not, after a while, I found his day a lot more fascinating. He was constantly on the move. Meeting men who were larger than life, who talked fast and loud like he did. Going places for luncheons, dissecting a business, telling me his gut feelings about this or that investment. I got to see how deals played out day by day, week by week, and I was hooked. Now I’m doing business with those businessmen’s sons. Nothing else I’d rather do,” he added with a proud sincerity.
“Oh, wow. What a story.”
“Plus,” he drawled with a one-shoulder shrug. “I stuttered like a tea kettle until I was eleven. Actors can’t stutter.”
“You didn’t!”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. Took a long time and some therapy to get over it.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re such a…smooth talker.”
He laughed. “It’s a helpful skill.”
She knew full well how devoted he was to the company his grandfather founded. Not to mention how adept he was at handling ventures other than Savant Financial Group. The substantial property holdings and restaurants in New York and Los Angeles were also impressive. What she found surprising was that he didn’t boast or brag about his success like some, and he didn’t behave like a stereotypical spoiled silver-spoon. One of the reasons she had begun to adore him as much as she desired him. Humility was hot. “You know, you’re a little young to be a CEO. I thought people had to put in a lot more time before being crowned king of the mountain.”
He gave a single nod. “I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s a different world now. Back when my father was my age, there was little chance he would’ve been appointed to the top. In fact, he wasn’t until his midfifties. But he and Grandpa recognized the industry has changed and a younger leader can be more of an asset than a risk. Nowadays, it’s more common. Many companies have CEOs who are under forty.”
She shrugged with a grin. “Oh well, Hollywood’s loss. You would’ve made an excellent James Bond. If James Bond was American.”
He grinned, dimple deepening. “Thanks, Jordana. Okay, back on topic.” He picked up the next invitation, a black one this time with shiny blue script. “The masquerade for the Face of the Bay Foundation. One of my personal favorites, an organization created years ago to keep the Bay its picturesque self.” Trading that invite for another, he showed her an ivory card with red calligraphy. “The Unchained benefit. To help raise money toward efforts for ending human trafficking. My company sponsors this one, so it’s a must. And finally—” he flipped up the last one like a magician showing his final card “—Bridges of Marin County, a group to help disadvantaged youth and teens, getting them off the streets, into jobs, into schools. Miranda is on the board and made me promise to go because I missed last year’s. Anyway, these functions are all black tie, all cannot miss.” He set the invites down, fanned them out before her, and then folded his hands together. “I was wondering—hoping, actually,” he amended with a crooked smile, “that you would accompany me to these, if you aren’t already busy on those dates.”
She gave a start. “Me?” she exclaimed.
“Don’t look so shocked. Since my last go-to date is no longer an option, I need someone to take her place. I can’t promise you much, but there will be plenty of food, endless drinks, and a close-up view of the most ostentatious ass-kissing. You may quote as much literature as you want, too.”
Her laughter belied her skepticism. “There must be a dozen other women who would love to be your go-to date. The kinds who are experienced and…sophisticated.”
He eyed her, cocking his head. “I happen to think you’re very sophisticated.”
“I’m many things, but that’s not one of them.”
For a few discomforting moments, he studied her, a small smile moving his mouth. “I disagree. You have your own blend of grace and a genuineness people are drawn to. For instance, do you even know,” he said, leaning in, “when you walk into a room and smile at everyone from the host to the busboy, people notice? Then they smile at me because I’m the lucky guy who’s with you.” He leaned back with a casual shrug. “And I don’t want anyone else. I want to go with you. A woman who won’t drive me crazy because she needs me to introduce her to so-and-so and can’t stop talking about how much weight other women have gained or who had plastic surgery. I need someone I actually like being around. I need you.”
With those eyes and that incredibly thoughtful plea, how could she turn him down now? He wouldn’t have asked her if he didn’t think she was up for the job. Not that being with Logan resembled anything close to work. Isn’t this what she hoped for? To spend more time with him that didn’t include the noon hour and her in scrubs? “Okay. Count me in.”
“Really? Just like that?”
“Were you expecting a debate?”
“I was prepared in case you said no. I had a whole list of persuasive points ready. Spent an hour working on them, you know.”
“Save them for the next request.” She smiled. “When’s the first event?”
“A week from Saturday. I’ll have Ashtyn call you with the details.”
Attending posh events with one of the hottest bachelors in the city. Now that was enough to make a girl’s stomach tie in delicious knots. If only she had a little more practice dressing up and hobnobbing with the Bay’s elite. Remembering how they interacted at the children’s benefit, talking about their money, their yachts, their expensive hobbies… She worried she’d stick out like someone who didn’t belong next to Logan.
Gazing at him as he asked the waitress for more water, she determined to put insecurities away and revel in the fact he asked her. Someone he liked, she thought with a private smile.
After lunch, as they walked outside to wait for the car, Jordana’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket, and she plucked it out. She jumped with a smile, eyes wide. “Logan, it’s my sister. Finally!”
“Good. Take your time. I’ll wait by the car.”
She plugged one ear and answered. “Lucee, you waited long enough to call me. I was getting worried about you.”
“Hey, sis! You’re always worried for no reason.” The reception cut out with several bursts of static, punctuated by short syllables of Lucee’s voice.
Jordana plugged her ear. “You’re breaking up. Where are you?”
More static. “Sorry! It’s the wind. Adam rented a convertible for the weekend.”
“Are you coming for dinner this week?” Jordana asked, straining to hear. “I’ll make that vegan dish you like. There’s a Housewives marathon starting tomorrow.”
“Jordana! Can you hear me? I’ve got some news for you!” More wind.
“What news?”
The reception came in crystal clear as her sister announced, “I’m getting married!”
Jordana froze. “What?”
“You heard me,” her sister exclaimed. “We’re eloping to Vegas!”
Jordana whipped around, unable to hide her shock as Logan watched her with a curious gaze. “Lucee! Oh my God, you’re kidding.”
“Why would I kid about that? I want you to be there if you can. Will you come? Be my maid of honor and a witness? We’ll be there tomorrow to get the license and hopefully find a chapel on Saturday. That will give you plenty of time to get your bony buns down there. I know you have tomorrow off.”
Lucee thought twenty-four hours’ notice was plenty of time? Only in her world. Words wouldn’t come out of Jordana’s mouth, even though she had so many things to say. Yet she knew asking her sister what the heck she was thinking would get her nowhere on the phone. Especially since every other word was cut off. “I…you’re on your way to Vegas now?”
Lucee didn’t answer her right away, filling Jordana’s ear with giggles and secondhand conversation with Adam. “Lucee! Pay attention.”
“I’m here. Aren’t you happy for me?”
“I…I can’t believe… I mean, you never mentioned you and Adam were thinking about marriage. I want to talk about this.”
Static cut the reception again, breaking Lucee’s words into incoherent bursts. “No time…hotel…can’t wait to see…don’t worry… I’ll call you tomorrow with the details! Love you!”
“Don’t hang up yet. Lucee!” Jordana pulled the cell from her ear. “Call ended” flashed on the screen. She dropped her arm. The conversation was over and Jordana had barely been a part of it. Lucee was eloping to Las Vegas, that’s all she really got out of it. But Lucee couldn’t get married! She’d only been dating Adam for less than a year. Though he was sweet to Jordana and openly adored her sister, nothing about him screamed perfect husband material. He was a struggling actor and part-time waiter, and up until two weeks ago, didn’t have much of a future going. From what Jordana surmised, their relationship was based on passion and parties, not things to build a lasting marriage on.
Her thoughts were broken by Logan’s warm, steady hand on her shoulder. “You look pale.”
Tom opened the door for them.
“I need to sit down.” She climbed into the cool interior.
Logan got in next to her, concern etched on his handsome face. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed, as if she could physically share some of her anxiety. “My sister is eloping.”
There was a pause, and he lifted a brow. “I take it you’re not exactly thrilled about it.”
“She can’t elope!” Jordana burst out. “They haven’t been together long enough. It’ll never work. They’ll get married, it won’t be anything she imagines, he’ll break her heart, and she’ll be devastated.”
“That’s quite the conclusion you’re making. All right. It’s not the end of the world. Take a deep breath,” he suggested, and she obeyed. “Okay, so tell me a little bit about her fiancé. Is he abusive, shady, something to worry about?”