And Something Blue (Main Street Merchants Book 1)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Wow. That’s pretty wild.” If anyone but Logan had said this, she’d suspect them of pulling her leg. But she couldn’t imagine Logan pulling a leg. Ever. That would require having a sense of humor, which would mean that he was capable of human emotion.

  “Yeah.”

  “Is she doing any better now?”

  Just then, the waiter stepped up to the table and took their orders. Laurie went with the shrimp scallopini, and Logan ordered a steak, medium rare. Laurie tried not to wince.

  “I’ll be right back with your food,” the waiter promised, tucking the menus under his arm before he walked away.

  “So, I was asking how Kelly’s doing,” Laurie said.

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, she hasn’t left her room in two days. My mother’s been taking her trays of food, but she’s only nibbling at them. The worst part is, if she’d just listened to me, she would have avoided all this pain.”

  “Listened to you?”

  The waiter walked up with side salads and a basket of breadsticks. Laurie thanked him before he moved off again.

  “I had a bad feeling about him the first time I met him, so I did some asking around. He has quite a reputation.”

  “You had him investigated?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way exactly, but all right.” Logan smiled as he reached for a breadstick. “What’s the good of having connections if you can’t use them to protect your family, right?”

  “I guess so.” Laurie concentrated on pouring dressing over her salad. She wasn’t sure what to think—had Logan overstepped his bounds by having Kelly’s boyfriend investigated? She guessed he just cared about his sister, and in this case, he was right to be worried, but at the same time, it felt invasive, and she didn’t know if she liked that.

  “If she had just listened when I forbade her to date him, we could have spared ourselves this whole mess. But just think—at least this way, I get to have a nice dinner with you.”

  Forbade her to date him? Again, Laurie wasn’t sure what she thought. Kelly was a grown woman and should be allowed to choose who to date. Sure, adult decisions sometimes came along with heartache, but wasn’t that part of being an adult?

  “This dressing is excellent,” Logan remarked. “Blue cheese, right?”

  “Yeah,” Laurie replied. She hadn’t been paying much attention to the taste of her food, but yes, it was really good, now that she thought about it.

  “You know, if I get the chance, I’d like to meet the lawyer who wrote up your sales agreement,” Logan said while he spread butter on the second half of his breadstick. “I was really impressed. Small-town lawyers don’t often write such tight contracts.”

  “Oh, they don’t?” Laurie kept her voice light. “Why is that?”

  Logan shrugged. “Generally, they didn’t have the same opportunities for education as lawyers from larger cities, so they end up taking whatever jobs they can find and don’t stay on top of their professions like they could otherwise.”

  “If they lived in a place like Denver,” Laurie added.

  “Exactly.”

  Laurie toyed with the stem of her water glass. “So you’d like to meet our lawyer so you can congratulate him on rising above the stigma of his social class and managing to produce something of legal merit.”

  Logan’s eyes flicked to hers. “Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way exactly—”

  “But that’s what you said. I just took your words and distilled them into one cohesive statement. Would you care to amend or revise?”

  “Listen, Laurie—”

  The waiter arrived with their food, and Logan clamped his mouth shut. As soon as everything was situated on the table to the waiter’s liking and he stepped away, Logan leaned forward and spoke in a softer tone. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. I came to call a truce. Since I’ve decided not to pursue legal action, I thought we might even become friends.”

  “You decided not to pursue legal action? I thought it had been very well established that you don’t have a case. You agreed that the contract was ironclad, even though it was written by a mountain man from the very deepest part of the deep, deep woods, and I believed that was that.” Laurie kept her voice down too, but it was taking the greatest self-control she could muster not to reach across the table, grab Logan by the tie, and make him face-plant into his dinner.

  “It’s a good contract. I’m sure I’d have a hard time fighting it. But I have some connections, and there are a few judges who tend to see things my way when I appear in their court.”

  “Another advantage to being a lawyer from the big city, I presume.” Laurie stabbed her fork into a hapless shrimp and downed it without really tasting anything.

  Logan paused in the middle of slicing off a piece of steak. “I said I wanted to call a truce.”

  “It can hardly be considered a truce if you’re still firing, General. And if you could please try not to display your bloody beef on the end of your fork like that, I’d appreciate it.”

  “This isn’t bloody. It’s just rare.”

  “Um, that red stuff dripping onto your plate? Those are bloody meat juices. So I’d say the facts are on my side again in this case.”

  Logan rolled his eyes and set his fork down on his plate. “How can we resolve this so we can have a nice dinner?”

  “Let’s start by calling a ceasefire on the fact that this is a small town, all right? I understand that it’s not Denver, but we like it that way. We’ve chosen to live a little bit off the beaten path, but we’re a very successful, prosperous community. We have schools and churches and parks—shockingly, we even have a library. That must be where we learned all our fancy words. And you don’t need to come striding in here, flaunting your Denver-ness like it’s something to be proud of while the rest of us need to be ashamed.”

  “I just meant that the education opportunities in a small town—”

  “It might interest you to know that I have a degree in business management from Harvard. And I don’t mean Harvard Community College, either. I came back to Aspen Ridge because I love this community, and I won’t stand to hear it belittled like this.”

  “Yes, I’m starting to get that very strong impression.” Logan stabbed a piece of steak and shoved it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “But let’s get back to basics. I’m choosing not to pursue legal action, so can’t we be friends? Surely we can put all this behind us.”

  There he went again. Laurie leaned forward and spoke very softly. “At this point, I would ordinarily get up and storm out of the restaurant, but I don’t want to cause a scene and embarrass Frank and Frannie, who happen to be dear friends of mine. So I’m going to sit here and finish my dinner, and I warn you, I’m going to order the expensive dessert.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Logan raised his glass in salute.

  Laurie got herself through the remainder of the meal by looking out the window or across the nicely decorated dining room—anywhere but at Logan. She pretended he wasn’t even there. She was just out, by herself, having a meal alone, a single girl who didn’t need to rely on a man to make sure she was properly fed. The shrimp really was delicious, once she stopped paying attention to Logan, and she asked the waiter to send her compliments to the chef when he stopped by to check on them.

  “So, are you pretending like I’m not even here?” Logan asked as she took her last bite.

  “What? Oh, sorry. I couldn’t hear you. I’m pretending like you’re not here.”

  “That’s a very mature resolution to this problem.”

  “I think it’s a lot more mature than flinging my superiority in your face and trying to make you feel like I’m doing you a favor, but that’s what you’ve been doing to me.” The waiter came back for their dessert order. “Yes, I’ll have your Tour of Europe dessert platter, please.”

  “With two forks?” the waiter asked.

  “No, just one. I’m not sharing.” Laurie threw a smug grin at Logan
.

  “I’ll take the crème brûlée,” Logan said, and the waiter scurried off again.

  “I find it odd that the only ammunition you can come up with to use against me now is the fact that you think I’m being immature when you’re the one who keeps throwing tantrums because you don’t get to be right,” Laurie said, folding her hands on the table and smiling at him. “But since we don’t have to see each other ever again after tonight, why don’t we just enjoy our dessert, pretend like we’re random strangers who just met here in the restaurant and decided to share a table, and then go our separate ways?”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Logan said, mimicking her pose and folding his hands on the table as well.

  When their desserts arrived, Laurie was a little startled at the size of hers, but she didn’t let it register on her face. Staring up at her was a slice of every dessert Frannie’s had to offer. No wonder the waiter had asked if she’d like two forks.

  “I do believe I’ll need a box. Or two,” she said, smiling up at the waiter. The look on his face said he totally understood her bewilderment.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Laurie chose to eat the chocolate mousse while at the restaurant, since it came in its own little ramekin and she didn’t think it would be right to stick it in a take-home box and steal the dish from Frannie. Logan watched her from across the table with an amused expression on his face.

  “What? I said I was going to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

  “And so you did. How is it?”

  “Delicious. How’s yours?”

  “Delicious.”

  They didn’t say another word to each other until after the desserts had been eaten, Laurie’s boxes were packed, and it was time to leave. Then all Logan said was, “Shall we go?”

  “We shall indeed.”

  They walked back to the bridal shop, where Laurie’s car was parked. Her boxes had been bundled up in a carryout bag with handles, and she swung it a little as she walked. The stars were twinkling overhead, the night air was fresh and pleasant—there was no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy what was left of her evening, even if she wasn’t crazy about the company.

  “Here’s my car,” she said brightly. “Thanks for the dinner and all the awesome desserts. It was very kind of you. I wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors, and I hope Denver treats you well forever and ever and ever. Good night.”

  “Laurie, wait.” Logan reached out and put his hand on her arm. “Please. Just give me one more chance. I know we’ve gotten off to a really bad start, but if we just talked a little more—”

  “What?” She couldn’t stop the disbelief from entering her tone. “Are you serious? You want to do this again? I don’t understand. Do you enjoy this kind of torture? Good night, Logan. I don’t even understand why you want to see me again, so just let me get in my car and I’ll go now.”

  She pulled her keys from her purse, set the sack on the passenger seat, and then walked around the car to get in the driver’s side. The whole time, Logan just stood there on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, his face a mask of something she couldn’t name.

  Chapter Six

  “And then I just sort of lost it,” Laurie said, a forkful of caramel cheesecake halfway to her mouth. “He was sitting there all smug, and I went off on him.”

  Each of her roommates sat around her with their own plate of dessert. She’d told them the whole story, from the moment when Logan first walked into the bridal shop on that very first day to driving away from him an hour before while he watched her go. They had been sympathetic, gasped in all the right places, groaned in the other right places, and had been the perfect friends in the middle of this awful situation. Not for the first time, she was grateful they were her roommates.

  “He had it coming,” Cara said. “I can’t believe all that stuff he said about small-town lawyers. Did you tell him who wrote the contract?”

  “I wouldn’t give him that kind of ammunition,” Laurie said.

  “I would have punched him,” Regan added.

  “Oh, it was on my mind, trust me.” Laurie ate another bite and then continued, “People have made me mad before, but this guy? We’re talking, whole new level of mad. I actually saw red. I always thought that was just an expression, but no, I really did. And it wasn’t a pretty red, either.”

  “I feel bad for Brennan.” Morgan stuck her fork in the top of her German chocolate cake and pulled off some of the coconut.

  “What does Brennan have to do with this? And why do you feel sorry for him?” Morgan was brilliant, no doubt, but sometimes she didn’t make a lot of sense.

  “Because now that you’ve got the hots for someone else, he really doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Laurie spluttered. “What? I do not have the hots for Logan. Haven’t you been listening? I hate him. I despise him. I loathe everything about him. If I never saw him again, I’d be the happiest girl in the world.”

  “I have been listening. I’ve been listening for an hour while you’ve tried to talk yourself out of liking him.”

  Laurie opened and closed her mouth a few times. What? That’s not what she was doing. She was listing all the wrongs and injustices that had been perpetrated against her by this individual who didn’t even deserve to be called a person, let alone a man.

  “Think about it,” Morgan said when Laurie didn’t respond.

  Laurie didn’t want to think about it. She wanted to eat her cheesecake and feel sorry for herself.

  * * *

  As it was, she did think about it. She thought about it all night long and didn’t get any sleep. Thank goodness it was her day off—otherwise, she’d have to blame Logan for any shoddy job performance, along with all his other misdemeanors.

  She’d just gotten out of the shower and was towel-drying her hair while checking her e-mail when she heard a knock at the door. None of her roommates were home, so she went to answer it. Gabe, the delivery guy from the floral shop, stood on her porch, a bouquet of white lilies and peach roses in his hands.

  “Hey, Laurie. I’ve got a delivery here for you.”

  “For me?” For a second, she thought they might be from Brennan. That was so sweet, but he really shouldn’t have spent this much money on her.

  “For you.” Gabe flashed her a bright smile. They’d dated once upon a time, back in high school, and had remained friends ever since, but he did enjoy teasing her whenever he saw her with another guy—or brought her flowers from another guy, in this case.

  Laurie reached out and took the card. Instead of seeing a message from Brennan, though, she read, Laurie, thanks for dinner. I’m sorry we argued. I’d love a chance to talk more and explain. Logan.

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times, totally at a loss for how to feel.

  “Not who you thought they were from?” Gabe asked.

  “No, not at all.” Laurie suddenly realized she’d left Gabe standing there holding the large vase all this time, and she stepped forward to take it. She set the flowers on the entryway table. They really were pretty, and they smelled good, too.

  “Wait,” she said, a sudden thought filling her with dread. “He knows where I live?”

  “No, he sent them to the bridal shop, and that’s where I went first. But Millie said you had the day off, so I took a chance that you’d be home.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” It was enough of a worry that Logan was sending her flowers—couldn’t the man take a hint?—but if he knew where she lived, too, that would have been way too much. She might have to move or something. “Thanks, Gabe. I appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. I’m sorry they weren’t from the guy you thought sent them.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she said absently as Gabe went back down the sidewalk. Flowers from Brennan would have been uncomfortable, but flowers from Logan were way worse.

  She supposed she ought to thank him in some way. That was the polite thing to do, right? And her m
other would never forgive her if she found out Laurie had been anything but polite.

  Laurie was not about to call him. That would give the impression that she was putting far more into this—well, it wasn’t a relationship. Acquaintanceship?—than she should be. And she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea at all, ever. So she headed over to her laptop and did a quick Google search. Logan Reese, lawyer, Denver, Colorado. When his name popped up, she chuckled. For all his posturing, he wasn’t a partner at his firm or even listed on the main page. He was on the second page. True, his bio was pretty impressive, and his picture was moderately handsome, but she certainly wasn’t going to bookmark the site or memorize the URL or anything like that. It’s not as if she liked him in the slightest.

  She clicked on the link marked “Contact Logan.” Now what should her e-mail say . . . After mulling it over for a minute, she typed, “Logan, thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely. Wishing you the best for a very happy life. Laurie.”

  That should be sufficient to let him know that she wasn’t interested in doing this anymore. She wasn’t going to give him a long explanation or worse, to tell him off again. She honestly had better things to do than worry about Logan Reese. And now she needed to find a different place to put the flowers—maybe on the coffee table, where everyone could enjoy them.

  * * *

  The next day, Laurie stopped in at the diner for her morning cup of mint-flavored hot chocolate. She figured they must keep it on hand just for her—no one else would be crazy enough to order hot chocolate during the summer. But she’d never developed a taste for coffee, and she needed something warm and soothing to get her started on the day. The shot of sugar never hurt, either.

  For some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hummed as she dusted the tops of the framed mirrors, even though she wasn’t a natural hummer. It just felt so good to know that Logan was out of her life and she could concentrate on what she did best—helping brides look beautiful on their wedding day.