by Jo Leigh
He nodded, but from his expression it was clear he wasn’t expecting much, which was for the best. She’d only wanted to extend an olive branch. Leave things between them on a more cordial note. Tonight she’d wait him out. Return after he was asleep. He’d understand she got caught up in whatever.
When he walked away without saying goodbye, it stung.
* * *
AT MIDNIGHT, LOGAN finished the single bottle of Pliny he’d allowed himself to have while he reviewed his presentation notes. He’d been back at the apartment for almost an hour after having dinner with a couple of old friends. He hadn’t mentioned his plans to Kensey. Why bother? She had no intention of having that nightcap. Hell, he’d known she’d only made the offer to smooth things over. What he couldn’t decide was whether or not to force the issue. Stay up. Call her bluff. Find out what the hell had happened last night.
He gathered his notes, turned off his tablet and switched off the lamp. The soft glow of the lighted tiles would be enough to get him to his room. Of all the apartment’s cool surprises, the tiles were way up on the list. Walls turning into monitors to receive calls might be his favorite, though. He was still on the fence about the body sensors.
Halfway to his room he heard the front door open. It barely made a sound but he had exceptional hearing. Suddenly, he didn’t like the illuminated tile so much. She saw him right away. And she didn’t look happy about it.
“Hi.” She closed the door behind her. “I’d hoped to be back earlier.” She moved a few steps into the foyer. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I was just headed to bed.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you.”
“I didn’t intend to.” Logan wasn’t surprised she was anxious to be rid of him, and her body language was still shutting him down cold.
“Look, I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional.”
He nodded. At least he was sure she wasn’t a plant here to keep tabs on him. “Maybe tomorrow?” she said.
“Maybe.” He wouldn’t hold his breath.
10
THE LARGE BALLROOM was packed. Even if Kensey had wanted to sit down, it didn’t look as if there were any seats left. She’d wanted to stay near the exit, but so many others had come after her that she’d been shuffled almost all the way to the end.
Logan looked good in the front of the room. He wasn’t using the podium. In fact, he was walking as he spoke, making continuous eye contact with people in both the front and the back. He must have given a prepared speech before she’d come into the room, but this was better. He’d asked for questions just as she arrived, and thirty minutes later, he was still fielding them.
Wow, he was terrific. Passionate. Engaging fully with the audience.
The only problem was her wandering attention. Despite his riveting presence, she’d zoned out, remembering the body underneath his fashionable suit. Remembering all too vividly how it had felt when he was inside her.
“I absolutely agree. Not every veteran will be a good fit for security work. But if you believe they could fill another need within your organization, why not give them the chance? The thing you know for sure is they’ve learned to follow orders,” Logan said and got some laughs and nods.
“And if you’ve got any concerns about their mental readiness, it’s okay to tell them they should go to counseling now, and to come back later. That’ll be completely up to them. But have the names and numbers of qualified therapists available. If you need help with that, call my office. It’s important to remember the skill set that leads to a successful military career. Especially during times of war. Don’t cut them—or yourself—short.”
Logan pointed to a man in the fifth row. “Question?”
A tall man in a gray business suit rose. “Can you give us some signs to look for? I mean for PTSD?”
“I’ve put some brochures on the back tables that discuss the symptoms. You might consider adding a psychological profile in your application process. I can help you with that. Help any of you with that.”
More hands shot up. A quick look at her watch told Kensey he was running over timewise. Next year, he would need a bigger room and a second hour.
“I see I’m out of time,” he said. “I know a lot of you are veterans who’ve had difficulty finding meaningful work. And I know there are CEOs and HR executives who are here because you’d like to support the troops in the best way possible. Please register for our database, and if you have questions, I’m happy to address them. I know what good men and women can do after they’ve served. We are a force to be reckoned with. Thank you.”
Kensey joined in the enthusiastic applause, kicking herself for missing the beginning of his session. But she’d gotten a call from Neil. He’d told her Seymour had sold another painting—a Van Dyck. Nothing near as pricy as the Degas, but it would pay the bills for another few months. She’d hoped for much more. All Neil could say was that things were in motion. Yeah, that would be her head spinning.
She gave up the idea of a quick getaway when her row hadn’t moved for five minutes, but she wasn’t that worried about being seen because Logan was surrounded by people hoping to speak with him.
It was easy to understand why Holstrom was interested in Logan. And after hearing him speak, it seemed even more impossible to her that Logan knew who Holstrom really was. If Logan got the contract, and she exposed Holstrom, what then? Would Logan be painted with the same shame-filled brush?
Having moved about a foot, she finally got a look at what the holdup was. Something had gone wrong with a wheelchair. A few men behind her had climbed over the row of seats in front and were heading to the other exit. In the dress she was wearing, she didn’t dare.
Her gaze went to Logan again. He was smiling, shaking hands. Talking.
She closed her eyes for a moment and centered herself. Just because Logan fit her idea of what a good man was, didn’t make it so. She didn’t know him. Coming to this presentation had been idiotic. But she’d had to do something to take her mind off her plan to prove Holstrom to be the true owner of the original stolen Degas. Which would all be for nothing if Holstrom didn’t call her. It was already day three. There had to be another way to get on his radar.
Finally, the line moved. When she was almost at the exit, Logan’s voice came clear up to the back row. “Kensey.”
It felt horrible, but she needed to keep walking. There were still people around him.
When her phone rang, she winced. Probably Logan, asking her to wait, but no, it was Sam. Asking her if she was free to come to her booth. Thank God.
She replied to Sam with a big yes, then without looking in his direction, texted Logan and told him she was on her way to Sam’s booth.
Once she was free of the room, guilt settled in her cells. She made her way through the crowd mobbing the booths, a jungle of noise and riotous color.
There was Sam’s booth. Kensey hadn’t realized how large it was yesterday. God, today was only Wednesday. Minutes felt like hours while everything was happening way too fast.
There were several people manning the booth, but it was easy to spot Sam with that glorious head of hair. She’d put it up in a twist, but a number of coppery tendrils had broken free. It had the effect of giving her a sort of halo. She looked great.
There were three men talking to her, all in suits that looked more tailored than what Kensey expected to see on the exhibition floor.
Sam, though...
No wonder they looked spellbound. Kensey had no idea what she was telling them, but she was putting her heart and soul into it. Her arms were waving all around, as if she was conducting an orchestra. From the little Kensey knew about Sam, she didn’t get out much. Almost never. What a shame—she was a joy. Thankfully, the men left before long. Sam turned to see Kensey waiting, and her eyes widened with welcome.
“Come on in,” Sam said, leading her to the booth’s entrance. Once they were inside, Sam stuck her hand out. “It’s so great to meet you in person. Do you want something to drink? Someone’s going on a coffee run in a minute. I was delusional when I thought one thermos of caffeine was going to be enough.”
“I’d kill for a giant latte with two extra shots.”
“Done.” Sam pointed to a chair in the back of the booth, but she didn’t join Kensey until she’d texted the addition to their order. Then she plopped onto the director’s chair. “I swear this week is going to kill me.”
“I can’t imagine. There are always so many people at your booth.”
“That’s the problem. I have to think of a way that I won’t have to be here next year. When it’s finally over, it takes me a long time to adjust to my regular routine. I loved that I got to see Logan, and now I get to meet you, though. Neil thinks the world of you.”
Warmth filled Kensey’s chest. “The feeling’s mutual, I assure you. He’s been wonderful to me. Both of you have. The apartment, my God, I’ve never seen anything like it. I know squat about computer stuff. I can get what I need to out of a MacBook Air, and when something goes wrong, I know who to call.”
“I’m the exact opposite. It’s the insides that make me happy. I fell in love with computers when I was just a kid. Gaming mostly, then figuring out how they worked. Then, in college, I started inventing things. If you don’t mind, I’d love to know what you like most about the apartment, and if there’s anything you find too intrusive or whatever.”
“The combination of colors and scents and music was a little spooky, at first, but amazing once I realized what was happening. At first I really thought someone, well, you, were watching me.”
Sam let out a laugh, and then covered her mouth. “Sorry. The cameras activate only when the place is empty. I can see how the mood sensors might be confusing. I need to work on a brochure or something that explains what’s triggering the colors and sounds. Although it’s kind of fun surprising people, too.”
“And giving them heart attacks?”
“No,” Sam said, grinning, “that would be bad for business. Did Logan tell you about calling me to turn off whatever was making him horny?”
Kensey felt her jaw slacken. “Umm...no.”
“Oh.” Sam turned pink.
Kensey was pretty sure her face was a perfect match.
“Don’t mind me,” Sam said. “Really. Sometimes I say the craziest things. The guys used to tease me about having no internal filter. What do you think about the music?”
It took Kensey a second to pick up the thread. “Oh, it’s so interesting. I have favorite songs I use for my yoga so I overrode the music the first day, but the second time, I wondered what would happen if I let the apartment decide. It was great! Better than the music I’d compiled. I felt completely relaxed and focused. Some lights dimmed, and then the windows darkened! The apartment seemed to learn so much about me after hearing my music once. Is that possible?”
“That’s what it’s supposed to do.”
“Artificial intelligence, right?”
Sam winced in a way that told Kensey she was close but no cigar. “Yeah. Kind of.”
“Wow. Also, the shower? The bathtub? Everything in that gigantic bathroom? I’m going to cry when I have to leave. It’s perfect.”
“That makes me really happy. Thank you. I keep fiddling with it. I’m using all the guys as guinea pigs, which is great because it means I get to see them without having to get on an airplane.”
This was the second time Sam had referred to “the guys” and now Kensey was curious. “I assume you mean Logan and other college friends?”
Sam nodded. “I was only fourteen when I started at MIT. I didn’t know anybody. And no one wanted to hang out with a kid. But that was okay. I wasn’t very social, anyway. Well, until I met Logan.”
“How long have you two been friends?”
“Since freshman year, so that would be almost fifteen years.”
“Wow. Long time.”
“We were a gang. Logan, Rick, Matt and me. None of us were studying the same thing, but we all lived in the same dorm at MIT. There was a big screen TV in the lounge and we kept showing up for the same shows—stuff like Adult Swim, Family Guy, The Tick, Buffy. We all laughed at the same jokes. Then we started hanging out. After Logan went off with the army, Matt and Rick decided to rent a house together, and they included me.
“When I met them, it was the first time I really had friends. I didn’t realize until later how much they looked out for me. Logan would get mad when I would forget to eat or lost track of time on the computer and stayed up too late.” Sam grinned. “I used to call him Mom.”
Kensey smiled. It wasn’t easy talking about Logan. “Are you still close to the other two, as well?”
“Yes. Rick for sure.” Sam frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Kensey straightened, aware she might have sounded wistful, which wouldn’t do at all. “Nothing. I was just thinking about how much we have in common. I didn’t have friends either when I was growing up—I still don’t, really.” She shouldn’t have added that last bit. It was her own fault she wouldn’t let anyone close.
“You? No way.”
“Well, that isn’t true. I have Neil. He’s great. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s not just my boss. He’s a good friend.”
“For me, too,” Sam said. “I adore Neil. But I can’t believe you didn’t have friends in school. Or now.”
“I was serious about my studies.”
“Oh, I see.” Sam rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “If not for the guys prying me away from my computer, my only social life would’ve been watching TV four times a week. And the weird thing is we aren’t alike at all. Logan was so into the whole ROTC thing. He really believed in all that stuff—serving his country and making a difference. Not that I didn’t, but back then I was too selfish. I’m still too selfish, probably. Then he was recruited away. But he should really be the one telling you this.”
Kensey doubted he’d be telling her anything about himself at this point. “Has he changed much?”
“Not really. He had a tough time leaving the service. Went through a year that could have ended badly. Instead he found something else to believe in. Helping other vets come home and adjust. So, same Logan, different uniform.”
Something tugged at Kensey’s heart. Logan had gone through a bad year? She wanted to ask for details. She wanted to know everything...
No, she didn’t. What she needed more than anything was to stay focused on what she was here to do. “What about you? Have you changed much?”
“Ha.” Sam grinned. “I thought you were going to ask me about my love life.”
“Oh, I was.”
Sam choked out a laugh and looked relieved that their coffee order had just arrived. They each sipped their ventis in silence for a minute.
“I should go and let you get back to work,” Kensey said. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten about our conversation.”
“What?” Sam blinked. “Oh. I’m still a card-carrying introvert who’d rather be in her lab than going on dates. But I love what I do. Guess you could say my work is my one true love.”
“Oh, come on. That’s just sad.”
“And you should talk?” Sam said, laughing when Kensey muttered, “Touché.”
“You have to come back and we can hang out sometime,” Sam said. “You can stay in the apartment. I’ll even take a couple days off.”
“I have a feeling that’s saying a lot.”
Sam nodded as she stood up. “Don’t tell anyone. Now I have to go talk to the chief information security officer for HBO. Call if you need me.” She looked over Kensey’s head. “Hi, Logan. Perfect timing, bec
ause I have to go.”
Kensey stood, too, taken completely by surprise. Although she should’ve guessed he might show up. She had told him where she was headed.
Sam hugged him hard. “Be nice, okay? Be the sweetie I know you are.” Then she let him go and spoke to them both. “Talk to you guys later.”
* * *
THE SILENCE WASN’T really a silence because there wasn’t any such thing in this crowded hall. But Kensey hadn’t moved, or even sipped her drink after she’d seen him. She just stared.
“I confess I was glad I didn’t know you were coming to my presentation. I would have been twice as nervous.”
“You were amazing,” she said, putting her coffee down on the chair without looking away. “I didn’t even hear it all, but you made a big impression. I could tell. It was quiet. No one coughed. No texting. You had them riveted, and I imagine you’ll get some good connections now, if not good offers.”
Whoa. The last thing he’d have guessed Kensey would say was basically what she’d just said. The way it had all rushed out of her, as if he’d lifted a gate. If it was bullshit, or even practiced, he couldn’t tell, and his life had depended on detecting things like that. Then again, this was Kensey, and his track record with her was lousy.
“Thank you,” he said. “I imagine it works because I believe in what we’re doing.”
“Yes, you’re right. But you also have a gift.”
He shrugged, trying his damnedest to quash a grin. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to talk last night.”
“Me, too,” she said, and something had changed. Awareness flickered in her eyes.
“Do you have plans for this evening?”
She opened her mouth, but shut it again. Picked up her coffee, but didn’t drink any of it.
“I have something I might have to do,” she said. “But there’s a chance it’ll fall through. I should be home by six. If you’re there...”