My pulse pounded in my ears. I needed to calm down. Closing my eyes, I inhaled as much cleansing oxygen as my lungs would hold. My entire nervous system had almost calmed down to a manageable anxiety level when the doorknob jiggled to life and my eyes popped and out in sheer terror.
“Um… Occupado.” My voice was strained.
Jiggle. Jiggle.
“Occupied.”
Jiggle. Jiggle.
“Someone’s in here,” I said a little louder.
Knock. Knock.
What the fuck was wrong with this person? We’re in a mansion, for God sake’s. Find another bathroom! There’s like twenty of them.
“I’m going to be a while. I’m not feeling very well.” I did my best regurgitation imitation. “Might be the crab cakes.” I performed another imitation only this time louder and longer for effect.
Silence. Then…
“Logan, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.” Her lyrical voice wafted under the door.
“I’ve been standing here forever. I need to take a piss.”
What an exaggerating and crude drama queen. What that chick saw in him was beyond me.
“Well, use another bathroom. The photographer wants to get some candid shots of the entire family.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he responded.
“Okay, but not too long.” The sound of light clicking heels echoed in my ears.
“Hey, Gwyneth—”
Gwyneth.
“Have you tried the crab cakes?” Logan asked.
“Are you kidding me? I’ve been so busy being congratulated by guests that I haven’t been able to get anywhere near the food. Thank God the staff is putting together a picnic basket for us for later.”
After a moment of silence the sound of heavy heels going in the opposite direction down the hallway dwindled. I sprang into action, grabbing my clothes from the cabinet and stuffing them under my arm like a football. Quietly, I opened the door, glanced both ways, and then made a beeline for the front door. I did not stop until I was safely back in the van.
I fumbled with my phone, trying to stick it in the charger. It slipped out of my hand, landing on the floorboard. When I bent down to snatch it, I heard a noise. Looking up, I was startled to find Logan at my open window.
“Hey there, Slugger,” he said, teasing as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, like his wedding.
I forced my voice to sound nonchalant. “College boy, how are you?”
“Better now.” He winked.
A huge part of me wanted to march back inside, grab his new bride, and let her know what an absolute asshole she married. There was still time for her to get an annulment.
“I thought I saw your van earlier. I’d been looking for you but got pulled away for wedding stuff. It’s been a crazy day. I had no idea Gwynnie hired you for the reception.”
I held on tight to the steering wheel and focused straight ahead. For the first time, I was at a loss for words. Between the nerves I felt from the event and the shock of seeing Logan, I needed time to process. Logically, I had no right to be upset. Our relationship was basically nonexistent. So, why did I feel jilted? I should have congratulated Logan, started the van, and immediately tore out of there. Unfortunately, when I opened my mouth the dam broke, causing a river of words to rush out.
“Why didn’t you mention you were getting married? Not that it matters one way or the other to me. I mean, I barely know you, and frankly, what I know isn’t all that great, if you know what I mean. After all, you are attempting to take my bakery. Which, in my eyes, makes you a jerk to the nth degree. I know, it’s your job and nothing personal. Of course, it’s not personal because we don’t have a personal relationship. Not that I’m implying I wanted a personal relationship with you, because that, my friend, is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Lip.”
“It’s just that since technically we have the slightest bit of familiarity, what with going to high school together, it seems natural that you would mention being engaged. You certainly had plenty of opportunity to share this happiest of happy news at any point during one of our encounters.”
“Lip.”
“No judgment from me, but you sure as hell never acted like you were betrothed to anyone.”
“Lip!”
Out of the blue I felt something pointy poking me in the side of the head. I glanced in the rearview mirror to find a light blue paper airplane stuck caddywhompus in my curls. I looked like a redneck cousin of the royal family with a homemade fascinator.
“You threw an airplane at my head.”
“I know and I apologize, it’s just—”
“Why would you do that?”
With little to no dignity left, I turned to face Logan. As my head rotated, the back end of the airplane collided with the headrest, causing the pointy tip of the origami sculpture to embed itself further into my hair, thus pricking my scalp. As for Logan, he was doing a very poor job of concealing his amusement. Each time the corners of his mouth tugged upward, he bit down on his bottom lip. The same lip that I wanted to fatten at the moment.
“I had to do something to stop you from talking,” he said.
“How about shut the fuck up, Lip?”
“That would have been rude. And in my defense, I said your name three times and you ignored me.”
“So instead you thought pummeling me with a sharp pointy object was the better choice?”
“You’re being very over dramatic.”
“A slight breeze is all it would have taken to change the paper plane’s trajectory, causing a severe eye-poking incident.”
Logan raked his hands down his face. “This has got to be the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had.”
“I’m sorry if you think my vision health is ridiculous. I’ll be on my way.”
I was reaching for the ignition when the passenger door opened and Logan climbed into the van.
I turned to him and said, “What the hell are you doing?”
He gazed at me before a slow smile spread across his handsome face. Logan had a warped sense of humor because none of this was the least bit funny. Then I remembered the airplane was still stuck to my head.
“Spending time with you.”
“But…but…”
“Lip, this is my sister’s wedding.” He lifted his hand and gently pulled the plane from my hair. “Gwynnie married a pilot and thought tossing paper airplanes was a fun idea.”
“It really is a fun idea,” I said, deadpan. “But when she came for the tasting her last name wasn’t Heath. It was Tanner.”
“Gwynnie is my step sister. We have different baby daddies.”
I was happy to hear this bit of information. But I hated my happiness.
“So, where are we headed?”
I blinked myself out of the daze I was in. “We?”
“Yeah, my duties are done here, so I’m free as a bird.”
He tossed the paper airplane onto the dashboard and settled back into the seat.
“You can go cluck yourself.”
“Ha-ha. That’s cute. Free bird. Cluck yourself. You have quite a way with the English language.”
“You can’t come with me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation. It’s none of your business.”
I glanced at my watch. Even with my early departure from the reception, this back and forth with Logan had eaten up my time. I was now close to being late for the Bridges camp. A new approach was needed.
“Listen, we’re both adults. There’s no need to squabble like kids. I realize that the self-invitation is embarrassing for you, but I won’t mention it to a soul.” I paused, waiting for him to say something, preferably goodbye, then get out of the van.
Undoing his bowtie and the first three buttons of his shirt, Logan glanced at me and said, “Oh, I’m not embarrassed.”
“I won’t be going back to Charleston until Sunday. May
be even Monday,” I blurted out.
“That’s great. It will give us more time to discuss details of the bakery sale.”
“Presumptuous mother clucker,” I muttered before jerking the van into reverse and pulling out of the parking space.
“SO, WHERE ARE WE headed, Slugger?”
“Stop calling me that. It reeks of a familiarity that we don’t have.”
“Not my fault. I’m all for becoming more familiar with you, Slugger,” he teased.
I glanced at Logan. He appeared quite comfortable and relaxed sitting next to me. His black jacket was opened enough for me to see the perfectly tailored white shirt cascading down the front of his flat stomach. The silver cufflinks he wore sparkled when the sun hit them and the large expensive silver watch screamed all man.
“You haven’t answered my question regarding our destination.”
“You bulldozed your way into my plans, now you have to suffer the consequences. You’ll know where when we get there.”
“Aw, a woman of mystery. I like it.”
“And you’ll have to find your own ride back. I’m not wasting my time or burning my gas hauling your ass around.”
“Duly noted.” Out the corner of my eye, I could see Logan looking at his phone. “I know something fun we can do to pass the time.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” I said.
“Harper’s offer is pretty straight forw—”
I clicked play on the radio and the van immediately filled with the deep soulful sound of “Southern Style” by Darius Rucker, ceasing any and all business talk.
“I thought the drive would give us some time to talk busi—”
“My concentration has to be fully on the road. Safety first,” I said loud enough for him to hear over the music.
Logan tried to match my volume. “But you will give me some time, right?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe.”
I glanced at him, smirking.
“I promise to hold the business talk if you’ll turn down the music before my eardrums explode.”
Not wanting to damage his perfectly shaped and sized ears, I moved Darius down to a more enjoyable level.
“Is your grandmother running the shop this weekend?” Logan asked.
“No. She’s out of town on a cruise.”
“That’s nice.”
“By the way, thank you for the beautiful flowers. I had no idea you and my grandmother were in cahoots.”
“Not sure what you’re talking about.” I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“Oh please, how else would you know peonies were my favorite?”
“Really?” Something behind my seat caught his eye. “Aw, you kept the flowers.”
“Of course I kept them. They’re perfectly good flowers,” I said.
“Damn. I’m good.”
“And cocky,” I teased. “Sending flowers is not very professional when trying to stamp out the little guy, I mean woman.”
The air quickly shifted. I glanced at Logan clenching his jaw.
“I’m not trying to stamp you out, Lip…I mean, Miss Smacker.”
“Lip is fine.”
He looked at me. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to remain in a failing business.”
My grip tightened around the steering wheel. Logan must have noticed because he stopped looking and focused his gaze out the windshield.
“So who’s running the bakery while you’re gone?” he said, trying to change the subject. Kind of.
“No one.”
“I don’t understand. The bakery is closed until Monday morning?”
“Or maybe Tuesday morning.”
Logan turned his entire body in my direction. “Are you kidding? You closed your business for an entire weekend? A weekend during tourist season?”
“No. Yes. Yes. And you are pretty near the edge of breaking your promise of no business talk.”
“Lip, how do you expect to stay open if you do things like that?”
“What difference does it make to you? You’re the enemy!”
He ran his hands over his face, aggravated. This must be a signature move. I had seen him do it several times.
Logan blew out a ragged breath. “I’m not the enemy.”
“Sorry. You work for the enemy.”
“I hope this other event is worth closing for two and a half days. What is it, another wedding?”
“Nope.”
“A corporate function?”
“Nope.”
“Then what?”
“I thought I made it clear, I didn’t want to talk business on this ride,” I said.
“True. Topic of discussion. You pick.”
“Hmm… Whatcha been up to since high school?”
This appeared to be an innocent question. When in fact, Logan’s answer would enable me to cross check his answers with the knowledge I obtained while following his post-secondary school career.
“After graduation I traveled across Europe for the summer.”
My gaze bounced from the road to Logan back to the road. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”
“Then spent the next several years in college and law school.”
“Please, stop with all the details.”
His entire face lit up with a smile, while shaking his head. “Lip, if you want to know something specific just ask.”
“Wow, what a golden opportunity.”
“So, what’s your question?”
“Give me a minute. I need to weigh out my options.”
“You really give everything a lot of thought, don’t you?”
“Not obsessively so. The first question sets the tone for the follow-ups.”
“Follow-ups?”
“A great question not only informs, it also opens the door to an adjacent subject matter. You must have sucked at being a real lawyer.” I glanced at his still smiling face. “Is that why the move to corporate espionage?”
“Is that your question?”
“No.” I paused for a moment. “Okay. Do you have any hobbies?”
“That’s the option you’re going with?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Well, let’s see. I’m in a flag football league.”
I nodded. “Not surprising.”
“I have a boat I enjoy taking out and fishing.”
“Of course, living by the ocean,” I chimed in.
“And I dabble a little with tennis once in a while.”
“I wouldn’t peg you as a tennis player.”
“Player is a generous name for what I do. An old girlfriend loved playing, so to impress her I tried my hand at it. But I never really connected to the game, or the girlfriend for that matter. We were together for two years. She was ready to get married and I never wanted to pull the trigger. It wasn’t her fault. I just never imagined us being long term. Since then I’ve bounced around from one woman to another. No one held my interest for more than a da—” He stopped abruptly and turned toward me. “Oh, you’re good. Really good.”
I tried to hide my triumphant pride. No one liked a gloater.
“Funny, I never imagined that Logan Heath would have a hard time finding a woman to stimulate him.”
“I was plenty stimula—”
“In-tel-lect-ually.” I enunciated firmly.
“Don’t feel bad. I think my luck is changing.”
I shifted in my seat and wondered what he meant by that before continuing.
“So, did you know who I was the first time you came into the bakery?”
“No. I never knew your name in school. But there was something familiar about you. The minute you mentioned high school I knew you were the cute girl who used to follow me.”
“How about that? Logan Heath thought I was cute.”
The fourteen-year-old girl in me was screaming at the top of her lungs and jumping like a jackrabbit.
“Logan Heath still does.”
My temperature rose at lightning speed, consuming my body
in embarrassment. My mind went blank. I had no smartass comeback or follow-up question.
My gaze shifted to meet his. “I still think you’re cute too.”
Dear baby Jesus, did I just admit that out loud?
“We actually agree on something,” Logan said breaking the awkward moment.
Thank God.
“Miracles of miracles. We each think the other is cute.”
“I meant we both think I’m cute.” He winked.
“Poor thing. Too many hits to the old noggin on the football field.”
Deep laughter rumbled out of him. “Lip Smacker, you are something else.”
I stayed silent, letting my big smile express my approval of his comment.
“My turn,” Logan announced.
“Your turn at what?”
“Asking you questions.”
“Unlike you, sir, I did not give permission.”
“Come on, it’s only fair.”
“I’m nothing if not fair,” I said reluctantly.
Logan sat up straight in his seat, rubbing his palms together in a maniacal fashion. “So, tell me what men have been lucky enough to have you in their lives?”
“Oh, look! We’re here!” I informed him driving through the gates of the campsite.
The intensity of the prickly heat on my skin matched the heaviness of the boulder in my stomach. It was a fair question. After all, I got Logan to spill some intel on his love life. But the most significant relationship I had been involved in wasn’t made up of hearts and flowers. My love life had been less about love and more about survival.
THERE WAS SOMETHING TRULY magical about Seabrook Island. It was still a relatively undeveloped barrier island. The businesses and homes there had done an amazing job of blending in the architectural design with the maritime forest and undisturbed marsh area. It was the perfect place to unplug and unwind. Each time I drove onto the island I felt a sense of peace wash over me.
I steered the van down the dirt road lined with beautiful Spanish moss covered trees. Turning the corner, I headed toward the back of the dining hall where the kitchen was located.
“Ready to get your hands dirty, college boy?” I said pulling into the parking spot.
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