by Jaye Wells
“Oh yeah, uh, you were really tossing back that . . . uh . . . tequila,” she said.
“Tequila? Well, that explains it. I didn’t get belligerent did I? Tequila tends to make me bitchy.”
“You were fine,” she said, not wanting him to worry.
“You must have felt like crap this morning too,” he said sympathetically.
“Why do you say that?”
He lowered his glasses to get a better look at her. “Well, for starters your eyes are bloodshot, and you have some serious dark circles going on there.”
Syd fought her urge to grab her own sunglasses even though she was relieved to have the handy excuse of a hangover to explain the telltale results of her recent crying spells.
“Woo, boy, was I ever hungover. Yep, had to take four aspirin before I even got out of bed.”
“I hear ya, sister. Explains why you’re late, too. Speaking of which, Stiggler came by about thirty minutes ago looking for you. He seemed agitated. You better call him,” Jorge said.
Syd felt her stomach drop. On her way to work, she’d tried to think of a way to handle the painting situation. Stiggler obviously couldn’t find out about Logan being a vampire. But she and Logan had never discussed their next steps before The Confrontation, which had left her with no idea what he wanted to do. Her only hope was that Stiggler wanted to see her for a different reason, giving her time to call Kira and figure out how to handle things.
“I’d better go call him and find out what he wants,” she said unenthusiastically to Jorge.
He took a gulp of coffee and then dashed all her hopes. “He said something about the Murdoch painting.”
“Crap.”
On top of losing the love of her life, she was about to lose her job. Deciding to get it over with, she turned to go into her office. Not wanting to waste any time if Stiggler was already on the warpath, she picked up the phone.
“Marvin Stiggler’s office, Geraldine speaking.”
“Geraldine, thank God.”
“Sydney?” the older woman whispered. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better. I hear Stiggler’s looking for me.”
“He is. I think you’d better get to the conference room ASAP.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You’ll see.” Syd frowned when she detected a smile in Geraldine’s voice. What was she so happy about, anyway? “I’ll tell Mr. Stiggler you’re on your way.”
Syd hung up and took a deep breath. Everything she had worked for came down to this. Stiggler had given her an assignment, and she had failed. She’d known all along that he only wanted her to help the Murdochs so they would give a large donation to the museum.
It didn’t make her feel any better that Stiggler would have found a way to get rid of her even if she’d succeeded. Although, now that she thought about it, it seemed odd she didn’t feel more devastated about losing her job. But she decided it paled in comparison to what she had already lost. After all, she could find another job, but she could never find another Logan.
She didn’t miss the irony that she had accused Logan of wanting her to give up the job she was about to lose anyway. All she could do was march in there, receive her walking papers, and then try to sort through the mess her life had become.
She exited her office and told Jorge where she was going.
“Wait,” he said as he stood, followed by a groan. “Geraldine just called and said I needed to get up there too.”
“Oh no, Jorge. He’s going to can both of us,” Syd said, feeling guilty that her failure would impact her friend as well.
“Syd, don’t worry about it. If Stiggler lets us go, we’ll find a way to recover. Besides, I have been thinking about leaving anyway,” he admitted.
Syd gasped. “What? You were going to leave?”
“Nah, so far it was just a thought. I couldn’t leave you high and dry. Then you’d have to get an efficient assistant who wouldn’t torture you.”
Syd smiled and hugged her friend. “Thanks, Jorge. For everything. You’re a good friend.”
“Now, let’s go see what’s up. The suspense is killing me.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and together they made the trek to the conference room on the other side of the building. Syd felt better knowing she didn’t have to face Stiggler alone. No matter what happened, she and Jorge would be fine.
When they neared the conference room, a beaming Geraldine met them. Syd frowned and slowed her pace. She wondered again what made the woman look so happy. Then a thought occurred to her. Had Geraldine not really changed her stripes? Was her upset over Raven’s refusal to turn her just a ruse?
“Hi, guys. Mr. Stiggler is waiting for you.”
“What’s up with the Mona Lisa smile?” Jorge asked.
“Who me? Was I smiling?” she asked. “Don’t look so worried, you guys. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
“Syd, I just wanted to apologize again. I hope . . . well, I hope we can be friends.”
Geraldine’s smile seemed too genuine. Syd pushed away her suspicious thoughts.
“I’d like that,” she said with a tentative smile. Who would have thought a woman who had kidnapped her the day before would now be her friend? She shook her head wryly. The surprises just kept coming.
“Okay, you two, scoot. He’s about to blow a gasket,” Geraldine said, opening the door to the conference room.
Syd took a breath. Time to face the music. She lifted her head and squared her shoulders before confidently strolling into the room. She got about two feet before she stopped abruptly and her jaw dropped open. Jorge ran into her from behind, throwing her forward.
“Oops, sorry, Syd,” he said. But she didn’t hear him. She was too busy staring. At the far end of the large table an easel stood. Propped on it was the portrait of Royce Logan Murdoch. Stiggler stood next to the easel grinning from ear to ear.
“Wh—what’s going on?” she stuttered. How had the panting ended up back at the museum? And what did its presence mean? Her mind raced to figure it out but before she could, Stiggler spoke.
“Sydney, it seems you have been very busy these last couple of days,” he began. “Imagine my surprise when I walked into my office this morning and found this painting waiting for me. Next to it was this package.” He lifted a large manilla envelope off the table.
“Care to explain yourself?” he asked, his smile taking the edge off his serious tone.
“I . . . uh . . . well—” she began. Luckily, Stiggler seemed so excited that he cut her off.
“In the package was a letter from Logan Murdoch addressed to me. It seems not only were you instrumental in saving the painting from the dangerous group of extremists that stole it, but you also found the letter which proves the authenticity of the Murdoch’s claim,” he said.
“Well, sir, I don’t know what to say.”
“You go, girl,” Jorge said proudly from his spot beside her. She sent him a lame smile. She had absolutely no idea what was going on.
“Yes, well done. But I am not finished. Mr. Murdoch also included a generous donation to thank the museum for all of its support.”
Syd’s jaw dropped as she realized what was happening. Despite her cruel rejection, Logan had saved her job. Her mind scrambled to process what that meant.
“Furthermore,” Stiggler cut into her thoughts. “He sent a notarized letter passing ownership of the painting to you.”
Chapter Twenty
“What?” Syd shrieked, suddenly feeling faint.
“Yes, Miss Worth. For some reason Mr. Murdoch felt you should be the rightful owner of the painting, not the museum. While I can’t say I understand his thinking, I am willing to allow you to sign ownership back to the museum. In return, I would like to offer you a raise and a promotion,” he said.
“Promotion?” Syd asked, dumbfounded.
“Yes, your new title will be curatorial director. The only level higher in this museum is director,” he chuckled. “Obviously that
position is already filled.”
Syd’s shock turned to suspicion, knowing Stiggler was trying to buy her off. Then it hit her: Logan had not only saved her job, he’d also sacrificed the painting—his last tie to his father—knowing it would give her bargaining power with Stiggler. Normally, she would have sold her soul for the chance to be curatorial director. With the title, she would oversee all of the curators and exhibitions at the museum.
But she knew she couldn’t take it. No amount of money or power could make up for working with Marvin Stiggler. Besides, Logan’s sacrifice proved that he still loved her. She still had a chance.
Suddenly giddy, she looked at Stiggler.
“Marvin,” she began, ignoring his shocked expression at her use of his given name. “You can take that raise and the promotion and shove it.”
Eyes bulging, his mouth worked like a catfish out of water. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I am tired of dealing with your crap. You can find yourself another curator to push around because this one is walking out the door.”
She ignored his outraged noises and walked past him to lift the painting off the easel. Unfortunately, her dramatic exit was hampered by the weight of the piece.
“Hold on Syd. I’ll help you,” Jorge said as he walked toward her, a brilliant smile on his face.
Then she realized her decision to quit meant Jorge was out of a job too.
“Jorge, I’m sorry,” she said when he reached her.
He shrugged. “No sweat, boss. With you gone, there’s no reason for me to stay. Now let’s get out of here.”
“Hold it. If you think I am going to let you walk out of here with that painting, you’re crazy,” Stiggler growled as he grabbed Syd’s arm.
She shrugged off his grasp. “Oh yeah?” She grabbed Logan’s letter and waved it in Stiggler’s face.
“I have a piece of paper here that says you can’t stop me,” she said triumphantly.
He paused. “Miss Worth, please, let’s be reasonable here. There’s no reason for you to leave. I promise I will try to be nicer.”
Syd and Jorge snorted at the same time. Then they lifted the painting and marched out of the room. Stiggler tried to follow them, alternating threats with pleas. But Geraldine stopped him at the door.
“Mr. Stiggler, I quit too.”
“Please, Miss Stern, can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Don’t worry. Once the museum board receives the letter I sent them this morning outlining all of the times you misallocated museum funds for your golfing trips, you’ll have all the time in the world.”
Stiggler’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me,” she said, getting in his face. “Now, I suggest you quit your caterwauling and start packing your office.”
She turned and ran to catch up with Jorge and Sydney, who held the door of the elevator open for her. As the car began its descent, silence reigned for a few stunned seconds. Then all of a sudden Geraldine giggled. Syd and Jorge soon joined her, and the giggles turned into outright guffaws.
“Did you see the look on his face?” Geraldine said as she wiped the tears of mirth from her cheeks.
“So, now what?” Jorge asked once their laughter had subsided into sporadic chuckles.
As she laughed, Syd looked from one friend to the other, feeling freer than she had in a long time. She finally understood what her life had been missing for the last few years.
Joy.
She was so caught up in trying to prove herself that she had forgotten to live. Her fear of rejection had prevented her from getting close to anyone, which is the reason she’d fought so hard against her attraction to Logan. She had rejected him last night because deep down she was terrified he would eventually turn away from her unless she changed to please him. But Kira was right—Logan wasn’t Cole.
No matter what it took, she had to get to Logan and make him understand she wasn’t like Brenna.
She needed to tell him she loved him. Even if he turned her away. Even if she had to spend the rest of her life proving her love to him. She just needed a plan to get him to listen to her. And she knew just who to call for help.
The elevator reached the basement and the happy trio exited the building.
“So, what now?” Jorge asked as they walked into late morning sunshine.
“Lunch? I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure use a margarita,” Geraldine said.
Jorge groaned. “No alcohol for me, thanks. But I could definitely use some greasy Mexican food. What do you say, Syd?”
She opened the door to her backseat and they carefully loaded the painting in. “No thanks, guys. I need to deal with some stuff,” she said gesturing to the painting.
Jorge looked at her with a probing gaze. “Tell Logan we said hi.”
Syd sent him a sad smile. “I will.” If he ever speaks to me again.
“Well, we’ll be at Herrera’s if you want to meet up with us,” Geraldine said. “Come on Jorge, I have a business proposition I want to discuss with you.”
The pair turned and walked away, leaving Syd staring after them fondly. She had no idea what Geraldine’s idea was, but Syd thought the two of them would probably make a good team at whatever they decided to do.
She got into her car and grabbed her phone from her purse.
“Kira, it’s me. I’ve had enough time to think. It’s time for me to make my move.”
Logan woke up against his will at four in the afternoon. His head pounded, and all he wanted was to throw a pillow over his eyes and go back to sleep. But hunger clawed at his stomach.
After arranging for a courier to deliver the painting to the museum last night, he had gone to his lab. But his work hadn’t offered the solace he had hoped to find. His mind kept going over the conversation with Syd, trying to figure out what he could have done differently. But the answers hadn’t come. He only hoped signing the painting over to her saved her job and gave her leverage against that creep she worked for. If nothing else, he didn’t want her involvement with him to ruin her career—the one thing she cared about most.
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Scrubbing his hands over his stubbled cheeks, he tried to wake up. Exhaustion, both mental and physical, weighed down his limbs.
Normally he bounded out of bed, grabbed some blood, and was ready to face the day. But today he could barely manage to drag himself upright, much less bound anywhere.
Even the imminent release of Lifeblood didn’t excite him. It seemed Sydney had walked away with not only his heart, but also his motivation. Before she entered his life, he rarely thought about settling down. He always assumed he would but figured he had plenty of time—he was immortal after all.
But with Syd gone, he realized she’d taken away his chance at having the kind of family he grew up in. One where the parents were madly in love and devoted to their children. Sure, he could find someone else, but his chance at the kind of love his parents had walked out the door yesterday.
He forced himself to stand and went into the bathroom. After he had downed a couple of bags of nourishing blood, he showered. Feeling slightly more alive, he threw on a pair of ragged jeans and a T-shirt.
He trudged downstairs and wandered around looking for something to do. He didn’t feel any desire to work, and he definitely didn’t want to talk to anyone. As if on cue the phone rang. Since he happened to be next to it anyway, he answered it.
“Logan, darling, it’s Mother.”
He groaned. The last thing he needed was one of his mother’s lectures about adversity only making him stronger. Or the dreaded “getting back up on the horse” soliloquy.
“Darling?” she said when he didn’t answer.
“Yes, Mother,” he said, trying to keep his impatience of out of his tone. Betraying any sign of emotion would only egg her on.
“Logan, I know you are feeling hurt right now, so I am not going to lecture you about the evils of hanging up on your own mother.”
Thank God for small favors.
“However,” she said, obviously not meaning to let him off the hook completely. “I cannot allow you to waste away in that house of yours alone. You’re coming over here.”
“Where?” he asked warily.
“To my house. I have decided to make you dinner.”
“I’m not really up to company right now. I think I’ll just order in.”
She tsked. “Absolutely not. You need a home-cooked meal. It is just the thing to mend a broken heart.”
“Really. I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Humph. Fine. I’ll just come over there,” she said.
Logan panicked. The last thing he wanted was his sanctuary invaded.
“Actually, that won’t work either. I . . .uh . . .am going out of town.”
“Going out of town? Where on earth are you going?”
Suddenly, Logan had a brain flash. What started out as an excuse to avoid his mother turned into a plan. “I’m heading to Asheville tonight. I need to get away for a few days to get my head straight.”
“No!” she exclaimed. “I mean, darling, I know you’re hurting, but running away from your problems isn’t wise. Give it a couple of days.”
“No, I’m going tonight. I think a change of scenery will help me sort through things. Figure out a plan,” he said, warming up to the idea.
“Well, darling, if that’s what you need, then I suppose I understand. When are you planning on leaving?” she asked.
“I need to pack, so I guess I’ll head out in an hour or so.”
“Hmmm. Gotta go, love you, darling!” Kira said quickly and hung up.
Logan looked at the phone for a moment, trying to understand his mother’s odd behavior. Shaking his head, he hung up the receiver, knowing he’d never figure out women. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to deal with any members of the fairer sex in Asheville.
Just me and the mountains, he thought as he ran upstairs to pack.
Forty-five minutes later, Logan came back downstairs, suitcase in hand. After packing, he’d called Alaric and given him detailed instructions to move forward with the Lifeblood rollout. He wanted to leave work and everything else behind when he walked out to the door. A few days alone in the mountains with no responsibilities and no worries was just what he needed.