Unsettled

by Ellington, S. C.

  My phone buzzed.

  “What are you making?”

  “Lasagna” I replied.

  “My favorite—how’d you know? Definitely sounds better than room service.”

  A few seconds later another message came through:

  “Do you want some help? I’ve perfected the art of boiling water…”

  His response put me off-kilter. Logan wanted to come to our place for dinner?

  “Can’t really envision you in an apron…”

  “I’m more than willing to demonstrate that I am a man of many talents.”

  “Okay, Wolfgang…” I teased.

  Right after I’d agreed to the unthinkable and we set a time, I knocked on Alex’s door.

  “Are you going to freak out?” I asked sternly.

  “Depends,” she answered just as casually.

  I blew out a loud breath, “Okay, I swear on all things holy if you make one remark I’m disavowing our friendship…Logan is coming over for dinner.”

  As soon as she opened her mouth to speak I stopped her.

  “Silence!” I demanded. “No words, remember?”

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe it!” she screamed.

  “If you’re going to act all weird I’m just going to tell him not to come.”

  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” she promised.

  “I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can,” I said, slanting my eyes in her direction. “I know you—you, Ms. Cartwright, are an investigator. I’m not even sure you know what the word ‘private’ means. So this is how our little get together is going to go: no asking about his net worth, political views, or how he became so successful that he was recognized by Bloomberg. I don’t want him feeling like he is at an interview session. Got it?” I asked with mock authority.

  “Yes,” she said. She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “You don’t have to be so overprotective. I’m positive he knows how to handle himself.”

  “Not around you,” I responded.

  “I won’t badger him, okay?” She leaned against her door frame and folded her arms.

  “Fine. Now get in the kitchen and help me get the food ready,” I ordered.

  She lifted her arm and saluted me, “Yes ma’am!”

  I rolled my eyes at her over enthusiasm and followed her to the kitchen.

  OUR DOORBELL RANG PROMPTLY at six fifteen. Must be the CEO in him, I thought. I glanced at myself in the mirror one more time before I opened the door. I decided to go for the less is more look—jeans, fitted tee, and a cardigan.

  When I opened our front door, Logan was standing on my porch holding a bouquet of pink peonies, my favorite flowers. He looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him in distressed jeans, a black fitted tee, and Converse, of all things. His hair was swept up into a small cobra style. He didn’t look like a CEO—he just looked like an average 20-something who was out on a Saturday evening, and I liked it. A lot.

  “Hi,” I said, meekly. Suddenly I was ridiculously nervous.

  “Hi. You look nice,” he said, eyeing me up and down, “and these are for you. It smells good in here. Thanks for letting me dinner crash.”

  “Don’t thank me yet—there is still time for you to end up in the ER with food poisoning,” I joked. If I could just be my normal, witty self, I should have no problems getting through the evening, I told myself.

  “I’ll take my chances,” he said, stepping into the house. He passed me and I locked the door behind him. On cue, Alex walked into the living room.

  “Logan, this is my roommate and best friend Alex,” I said, waving my hand in her general direction. Logan turned to greet Alex. When he was facing me again I diligently ignored Alex’s jovial miming and thumbs-up behind Logan’s head, indicating that she thought he was cute.

  “Please make yourself at home. The remote is on the coffee table. I’m sure you can catch a rerun of yesterday’s stock trades,” I joked.

  “Nope—I offered my cooking services—and who am I if not a man of my word.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Alex and I have it under control.”

  “No—I’d really like to help—please.”

  “Okay, well I guess you can finish cutting the vegetables for the salad if you really want to.”

  “Sure—let me just wash my hands. Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

  “Of course not—down the hall to your right.”

  “Thanks.” I hoped I didn’t leave any panties on the floor as I watched his retreating back. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alex released a shrill squeal.

  “Dinner date! Dinner date!” she screeched, waggling her head from side to side.

  “Stop before he hears you!” I hissed. I pulled out the salad bowl and found the tongs wedged in the utensil drawer. “You’re such a girl!” I replied. “I don’t know why me having a guy over for dinner has turned you into a big lump of love mush. It’s not that serious,” I said, mockingly.

  Just as I finished chastising Alex, Logan floated around the corner.

  “Hey—now where can you use me?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

  “You can be in charge of making the salad. Here, you can wear this,” I said. I tossed Jay’s “King of the Grill” apron in his direction. He read the quote on the front and broke out into a boisterous laugh.

  “Wow—that quote is a lot to live up to,” he remarked, tying the apron around his lean waist. “All I can say is don’t get your hopes up” he joked. His humorous comment relieved some of the nervousness that I’d been feeling ever since I agreed to see him again.

  “Yeah—that’s Jay’s apron. Trust me, he doesn’t live up to the quote either,” I laughed. “He should be back soon. He got assigned to take Alex’s car in for service today,” I said, tossing Alex a smirk.

  “Hey—after a decade of me putting up with him that’s the least he can do!” she retorted flippantly. Logan chuckled at her response. I laid out the lettuce, parmesan wedge, and red onion for him to chop.

  “Let me just find the cheese grater.”

  “Hey, I wanted to ask you, where did you get the photo hanging in your bathroom?” Logan asked. I assumed he was referring to the black and white photo of the White House near the window.

  “I shot it from a hotel bar window,” I said, rifling through the kitchen drawer to locate the grater.

  “You seem to have a good eye.”

  “See, Brooklyn!” Alex chastised. “I keep telling her the same thing—but does she listen? Nope!” she said, directing her comment to Logan. I shot her the evil eye, which prompted her to stop blabbering and continue diligently setting the table. “What? I’m just saying,” she said as a final rebuff.

  “Thanks. It’s just something I enjoy,” I said, handing him the grater.

  “Hey baby,” Jay called to Alex, coming through the door.

  “Hey you,” she said, throwing him a loving smile.

  “Hey B, how’s it going?” Jay asked.

  “I’m good. Jay, this is Logan. Logan, this is Jay—my other roommate, and Alex’s ball and chain,” I joked.

  “Nice to meet you,” Logan said, extending his hand to Jay.

  It took no time for Logan and Jay to warm up to one another. They became engulfed in discussions about Jay’s career in project management and Logan’s business. When I saw how natural Logan interacted with my friends, I didn’t see the millionaire CEO that was portrayed on the Internet. I wondered if he was always this relaxed outside of the boardroom.

  “Hey—I can do that so you guys can talk in the living room,” I offered, pointing to the lettuce Logan was attempting to cut. Watching him chop the head of lettuce was actually painful. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was just supposed to slice the lettuce, not massacre it.

  “No, I’m sure I can get the hang of it,” Logan insisted, while he held the knife at an awkward angle.

  “Okay, hand it over! Go, please, before you hurt yourself.” He finally obliged my requ
est and headed into the living room to continue talking to Jay.

  Alex finished setting the table and I put the finishing touches on the salad. I took the lasagna out of the oven once the top layer was crusted over and popped the store bought garlic bread into the broiler to toast.

  “Dinner is pretty much done,” I said as I walked into the living room.

  “Sweet!” Jay exclaimed, propelling himself off our leather couch and heading toward the set table.

  When the bread was ready we all sat down to eat.

  “So how long are you in town?” Alex asked Logan, as she passed the breadsticks in his direction.

  “I’ll be in and out of the area for the next few weeks until my next business trip.”

  “Oh, really? Visiting anyone special, a girlfriend perhaps?” Alex asked, brazenly.

  My head snapped in Alex’s direction and I gaped at her, “Alex!”

  I turned to Logan. “Oh my God, ignore her. Someone has forgotten where she put her manners. You don’t have to answer that.” I wanted to wrap my fingers around her thin neck and shake some sense into her. She had succeeded in making me uncomfortable.

  “Alex…” Jay warned. His tone told her exactly what I wanted to say.

  “What? It’s an innocent question,” she said, putting a forkful of lasagna into her mouth.

  I could tell Logan was a little taken aback by her forward question, but he answered anyway.

  “For your information Alex, no I don’t have a girlfriend. Monogamy doesn’t exactly work for everyone.” I thought that was a rather weird statement, but didn’t say anything.

  “Well anyone who is able to treat my dear friend with the utmost respect and understands that the sun rises and sets on her existence is good with me. But if you can’t, we’ll have a problem, I assure you.”

  “I agree with you—she should be treated with the utmost care.” I cowered back into my chair and Logan just looked at me and smiled. I really hated being the center of attention.

  “Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

  “Oh my God, I can hear you guys. Can we please change the subject,” I interjected.

  While Logan engaged in various conversations with Alex and Jay, ranging from basketball to what they’d studied in college, I was in my own realm. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that Logan Colton—one of the youngest and richest men in the nation, had come to be sitting at my dinner table—eating a lasagna recipe that I’d snagged out of Martha Stewart Living. The clang of a knife snapped me back to their present conversation.

  “Where are you traveling to next?” Alex asked. She amazed me with how she just moved on with the conversation like she hadn’t just rolled a grenade into the dining room.

  “Florida,” he said in between bites of food.

  “Oh well that sounds nice. I’ve never been there,” I said, chiming in.

  “What other places have you traveled to?” I filled my mouth with the last remnants of the small salad I’d piled on my plate. I was glad Logan had come for dinner, but in his presence I couldn’t even enjoy the gooey cheese and Italian sausage casserole. I didn’t usually have a problem eating in front of a guy. One time Damon watched as I inhaled a family size bag of Doritos when I was on my period with no remorse.

  “I’ve been to various states in the U.S., and to Europe a few times,” he replied, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Florida is cool—some places really do just look like the pictures,” he said. “But I doubt I can find this in Florida,” he said, pointing to his nearly empty plate. “Dinner was excellent Brooklyn. Thank you,” he said, placing his dinner napkin on the table.

  “I’m glad you liked it,” I said. I took a sip of water. “You’re lucky, you know. I would love to go to Europe. I’ve been trying to save up to go to Italy forever.”

  “Well maybe you’ll get there sooner than you think.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  I excused myself to start clearing the table and cleaning up the monumental mess that Alex and I had made in the kitchen.

  “Oh, let me help you with those,” he said, scooting back from the table, grabbing his plate and silverware.

  “You don’t have to do that—you’re our guest,” I said. I placed the leftovers on the kitchen island so that I could spoon them into Tupperware containers.

  “She’s right Logan—we can handle it,” Alex chimed in, standing from her chair. I was annoyed that Alex now wanted to pull a page out of Miss Manners’ Guide to Elegance.

  “No, I want to help. At my parents’ house whoever cooked had immunity from cleaning the kitchen that night, he remarked. “Just put the dishes here?” he asked, motioning his head toward the sink.

  “That’s fine—thanks,” I said, dropping the serving utensils into soapy water.

  Logan and I stood side by side as we washed and dried the dishes. I discreetly checked out his arm muscles the few times our arms collided. I didn’t doubt that he spent plenty of time in the gym to stay fit and nimble. As I stood next to him washing one dish after another, I wondered what his muscles would feel like wrapped around my body while my legs were around his torso. Get it together, Brooklyn! My subconscious screamed, pulling my mind out of the gutter.

  “Thank you again. It’s not often I get a home-cooked meal—one of the inconveniences of traveling and being a bachelor,” he said as he rinsed a glass in the warm water. I could understand that he traveled a lot for work. But why was he still trolling the bachelor scene? Surely there were multitudes of women who wanted to snap him up.

  I smiled while massaging soap onto the dirty plate in my hands, “I get to travel the world over, but I yearn for the simplicity of slightly overcooked lasagna …oh the horror!” I said, chiding him playfully.

  “You would be surprised how many things a person gives up to pursue launching a business. It’s not about the food, it’s who you share it with—and in my case I’m usually doing that alone.”

  “I understand. Shuttling from one place to another has to get tiring. I get tired of my morning commute,” I said, attempting to be humorous.

  “Everything has a trade-off.” What did he mean by that? Silence fell between us. I was lost in thought thinking about what his elusive words meant. We finished washing the last of the dishes.

  “So are we still on for the movies?” he asked. He dried his hands on the dish towel I handed him.

  “It’s almost…eight thirty,” he said, placing his watch back on his wrist.

  “I’m fine with that if you still want to go,” I said. I ran a dish towel around the area of the sink to sop up the excess water.

  “I’d still like to go,” he said.

  “Let me just change my shirt really quick,” I said, pulling the thin fabric away from my stomach. “Seems like the washing got a little out of hand. It’ll only take me a couple minutes,” I said, turning to walk to my bedroom.

  As soon as I shut the door, I heard a light tap. I placed my hand on the knob and opened the door. Alex squeezed her way into my bedroom undetected.

  “He is freaking hot!” Alex said in a low squawk.

  “Here we go,” I said. I threw my hands up in exasperation and walked to my pile of clothes on the chair.

  “No really Brooklyn, he seems nice and he’s cute,” she said while I was combing through the mound of clothes looking for a new shirt.

  I turned to look at her. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I told you to mind your manners. I could have sworn I said no interrogations.”

  “Nope, I don’t seem to recall you saying that I couldn’t inquire about his love life. I stayed within the parameters given. You should be more specific next time. Don’t be mad.”

  “I can’t stay mad at you.” I stepped back from the chair. “I could like him.” Those four words were now officially floating in the universe. Alex leaned in and gave me a quick hug, “I’m glad to hear it! Just don’t sabotage it—let it happen naturally and enjoy the ride.”

  “Yeah, I know.
Now if you’ll excuse me I need to change my shirt.”

  “Where are you guys going?” she asked.

  “To the movies.”

  “Wear the pale yellow long sleeve. It always looks cute with those jeans.”

  “Okay, Bossy. Bye,” I said, playfully pushing her out of my room. I took Alex’s advice and changed into the yellow shirt, choosing to match it with my amber dangle earrings and jean jacket. I stopped by my bathroom to brush my teeth. Garlic breath was a turnoff no matter what the occasion.

  Alex made a good call on the shirt. I stared at myself in the mirror—so you like him, now what?

  “Ready to go?” I asked, coming down the hallway. I pulled my purse out of the hall closet.

  “Yep. Let’s hit it,” he responded enthusiastically.

  “You kids have fun now, you hear?” Alex said in her best Southern belle accent from her spot on the couch. She and Jay were snuggled together watching TV.

  “Good bye, my crazy best friend,” I said laughing.

  We headed out of the house and I locked up behind us. We walked down the front steps to where the Range Rover was parked. Logan opened the front passenger side door and held his hand out to assist me. I looked inside the SUV and then back at Logan. “What, no driver today?” I said, giggling.

  “Didn’t you say having a driver was over the top?” I was speechless that Logan actually remembered anything I said from the night we went out.

  “I can drive you know,” I offered. “My car is right over there,” I said, pointing to where Aspen was parked across the street.

  “No, it’s cool. Your buddy Trent was nice enough to arrange for me to have the vehicle for the weeks that I’m in town.” I was glad to hear he was staying for a while. “Plus, Merick will be following us.”

  “What does Merick do? I thought he was your driver.”

  “More like part of my security team; comes with the territory,” he said, shrugging. Security?

  He offered his hand so that I could step up into the Range Rover. I let his hand go as I leaned back into the seat, “Thank you.” Logan walked around the front of the SUV.

  “Do you know how to get to the theater?” I asked.