He said something to the lady standing there, pointed and walked toward me. My pulse quickened as I watched him weave his way through the dining room. I was beginning to feel faint when he finally stopped at my table. “What are you doing here, Leah?”
“Having lunch, what are you doing here?” I meant the remark to come out bitchy, but the shake in my voice totally gave me away and he smiled.
“Same. But what I meant was what are you doing in Boston?”
“I moved here four months ago. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you to think I was coming after you. That’s why I kept it quiet.”
A waitress came to the table and took Logan’s order. I studied him as he ordered; he looked better than he had when I last laid eyes on him. I kept getting gentle whiffs of his cologne and wished I could be back in his arms, resting my head against his chest, but I had already laid all the rules on the table. I had grown used to the fact that it wasn’t ever going to happen again. I would not let it.
“Everything okay for you here, miss?” she asked me.
“Could I get another tea, please?” I asked. She nodded and stepped away from the table.
“So, are you working?”
How was I going to answer that? Yes, I am working, I have an appointment with you in three hours that I tried to cancel, you bonehead. Instead, I gently nodded. “I’m with a small interior design firm, nothing special.” I wasn’t about to let on who I worked for. He’d know soon enough.
“What part of the city are you living in?”
“I’m in a small apartment down by the water,” I answered. “How are things with you? Did you get your house finished?”
“Things are good, really good. I got it finished, yes. I have an appointment with a designer tonight, they are featuring my house in Dream Home Magazine.”
“Wow, that is amazing, Logan. You should be so proud.”
He shied away for a moment and then quietly spoke, “Truth is, I wanted you to design it. I tried to find out where you were. I even called my mom to see if she would give me your number, but she refused.”
“Well, we can’t always have what we want, now can we,” I bit back. They were his words not mine, and I would make him swallow them.
Things went well once we were done with our usual bickering. Logan insisted on paying for my lunch, so I let him. We walked together to the lot where I had parked my car. I pressed the button for the remote start as we continued across the lot. I turned to him when I got to my car. “This is me,” I said. “Thank you for lunch.”
“You are welcome. It was my pleasure.”
Our eyes caught and I could see something unreadable in his. I wanted so badly to kiss him, but I needed to be strong, I wasn’t getting involved with him again. He studied my face, a faint smile coming to his lips.
“Before I go, are you doing anything this weekend? Perhaps you would like to see a movie?”
I thought for a moment and swallowed hard. If he thought anything had changed, he was wrong. I had laid everything out on the line and told him what I wanted and either he agreed, or he didn’t. Just because we now lived in the same city, I wasn’t about to be his toy when he was lonely.
I didn’t want to lead him on but, at the same time, a movie would be great. I had barely gotten anytime to know this city. I however didn’t trust myself in a dark theatre with him. “How about coffee and dessert tomorrow night instead?”
A sexy smile came over his face, but I stopped him before he could say anything. “Nothing has changed, Logan. I meant what I said before, it’s all or nothing.” I leaned into him and gave him a hug and a small kiss on the cheek, “See you tomorrow. Text me the address.” I got into my car and headed back to the office.
TWENTY-TWO
Leah
I sat in my office doodling on a piece of paper and staring at the clock. I had to be all business in less than forty-five minutes, and since lunch, I had been anything but all business. I was a blubbering idiot by the time I got back to the office. I called Jenna and cried to her for over an hour after I had returned, instead of working on a few projects that were due for Monday.
After seeing him at lunch, I had been thrown into a whirlwind of memories. The want for him so high I had become a basket case. Jenna tried her best to talk me down and come up with a way to get out of this appointment with him, but I couldn’t do it. How unprofessional would it look to my boss? I had no choice but to suck it up and stay professional because there was no room for weakness. If I was going to go I had to leave now, I thought to myself. I packed up my bag, wrapped my coat around me and headed to the front door.
“Leah, I forgot to tell you, I couldn’t cancel your five thirty,” Mandi said as I walked by her desk.
“It’s fine I’m on my way now. If Mister Lehmbeck calls tell him I am on my way.”
My nerves were getting the best of me the closer I got to his address and as I drove up the long circular driveway, I was sure I would have to stop so I could be sick. But as soon as the house came into view, the sick feeling fell away and my jaw dropped open. It was the most stunning design I had ever laid eyes on, and it should be in a magazine.
I slowed my car and just looked at the house taking it all in. I saw his truck parked out front and I pulled my car in behind his, hoping he hadn’t seen my vehicle pull up. I slowly got out of the car, taking my laptop and phone with me and I walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
I turned to look at the front yard. This place was a little oasis hidden up a long driveway buried in the trees. Logan had done well for himself. I turned around just in time to have the front door pulled open and saw Logan standing inside the door. The look on his face was one of shock.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came for my appointment with Mister Lehmbeck,” I answered, swallowing hard, trying to keep the look of want from my face.
He stood there not knowing what to do. “Mister Lehmbeck, it would be easier if you let me in to see what your place will need.”
“Cut the crap, Leah, what are you really doing here?”
“Mister Lehmbeck, you may call me Miss Tate. Do I have to remind you, you are the one who requested this appointment with Preston Interior Design?”
He looked at me as if I were kidding but when my face showed no signs of a smile, he stepped to the side and let me in.
I stepped into the foyer, removed my shoes and looked around. The house was a blank canvas and I was secretly excited to get started.
“Seriously, Leah, what are you doing here?”
“You called Preston Interior Design and requested the designer who completed the work at the Boston Harbor Hotel, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Well, you got her. Now, if you wouldn’t mind showing me around.”
Logan’s jaw dropped as I spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me that today? You said you were working for some small firm.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket getting the camera ready to take pictures. “Because I didn’t find it important, now where would you like to start?”
“You didn’t find it important to tell me you were working for one of the largest design firms in Boston, or make any comment when I told you I wanted you to do the design for me?”
I ignored him and walked further into his home. I was already making notes, color ideas, style and lighting.
“Leah, are you going to answer me?”
“It’s Miss Tate. Now please, Preston charges two hundred dollars an hour for consultations. I don’t want to waste your time or money, Mister Lehmbeck. Are we going to get started?”
Once Logan started showing me around, I noticed how well the house flowed and the more excited I got.
It was a little after seven by the time we entered the kitchen, the last room of the tour. I dropped my notepad onto the island and continued making more notes. I was just about finished when Logan stepped up beside me.
“So, do you think you can
fix me up here?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. Give me a week or two to get my ideas together and then my team and I will get started,” I said, keeping my eyes trained to the paper.
I heard him exhale and then he leaned against the island and cleared his throat. “Leah, why haven’t you looked at me once since you got here?”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and continued writing. “Mister Lehmbeck, I told you, it’s Miss Tate to you. I am here to do a job, not flirt like you have been doing with me for the past two hours. Now, if you want me to do this job for you . . .”
“Fine, Miss Tate, I expect to see your completed designs this coming Friday, no later. I assume you know the way out.”
I didn’t have a chance to say anything before Logan left the room. I could feel anxiety building within me and knew it would only be a few more moments before I would be in tears in his kitchen. The whole night he had subtly been placing his hand on my lower back as he guided me into the rooms, and he would find some little way to touch me. And every single time he touched me, I felt that familiar ache between my legs, making me wet, and sending my heart into a racing mess to the point where I could barely breathe.
I slid my notepad back into my bag and slipped my shoes on, making a mental note to make sure I had my assistant present for other meetings. I reached to open the closet, pulled my coat off the hanger and as I shut the door, Logan’s reflection appeared in the mirror. Our eyes met, and I knew instantly that whether he liked it or not, he felt the same way about me as I did him. We said nothing, we just stood and stared for a couple of minutes, eyes locked on one another.
I bent to pick up my bag, and that was when he stepped up behind me, reaching down and grasping the handle at the same time I did, our hands colliding. I let the bag go, and he held the door for me and walked me out to my car. He placed the bag in the trunk and slammed it shut as I walked around to the driver’s side. He opened the door for me and when I went to climb in, but his hand gripped my upper arm. “Seven, Friday night. I’ll see you here.”
“Yep.” That was all I was going to get out of my mouth.
He went to say something, but I cut him off. “Goodnight, oh and about the dessert plan for tomorrow, let’s pass.” I got into my car, pulled the door closed, started the engine and threw the car into reverse. I drove down the long circular driveway, everything blurring in front of me as my hands shook. I stopped just before I had to turn onto the road and placed my head on the steering wheel. I didn’t know what the hell I was even doing here, I couldn’t work with him.
My phone rang, causing me to jump. I reached in my bag and pulled it out seeing Jenna’s name on the screen. I wiped the tears from my cheek and answered the call. “Hello, darling,” I sang in a fake voice.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“I was too late. I meant to call before you had your meeting or during, but I lost track of time. I was planning to be your decorating emergency.” She let out a laugh while I held back my tears. “How did it go?”
“All right,” I lied, “I will meet him again this Friday at seven to go over my plans.”
“I see, at your office?”
“No, at his place.”
TWENTY-THREE
Leah
After my breakdown with Jenna, I went home and soaked in a hot bath with lavender essential oils and Epsom salts. I also downed two bottles of merlot and called in sick the next day.
I spent the rest of the week working tirelessly on his design. Not only because it was for him, but it was also because they would feature this project in a magazine that could essentially make or break my career.
It was Friday, and I had just returned to my desk with a fresh cup of coffee and a warm chocolate chip cookie and sat back down to complete my reports for Logan. I pulled the blinds to stop the sunlight from beating on my computer screen, my head pounding. An email notification popped up on my screen. I opened the email and read.
Miss Tate,
We need to reschedule our meeting tonight to eight pm.
Mr. Lehmbeck
I let out a laugh. Maybe I had been a little too serious over the whole “we need to be formal” nonsense as I read his email. I hit reply.
Logan,
My day started at four am, the earlier the better.
Leah
I went back to the screen I was working on and suddenly another notification popped up. I quickly switched screens and read.
Miss Tate,
How dare you address me as anything other than Mr. Lehmbeck. This job is important to us both. I will see you at eight.
Mr. Lehmbeck.
I texted my assistant to let her know to meet me at Logan’s address, but she responded back almost immediately telling me that she had a prior engagement and couldn’t make it. I let out the breath I had been holding as my stomach sank. I would have to do this meeting alone.
I shut my email down, there was no way I would win an argument of any size with him, he was too stubborn, besides this was my idea. I continued to work away and by six I was just finishing up. I had enough time to go home and quickly change before I had to drive out to his place. I printed the designs and packed them up for tonight.
I stopped just around the corner from Logan’s and picked up two coffees. It was exactly what I would have done for any other client I was working with, he shouldn’t be any different. I slowly drove up the winding driveway and pulled my car up beside his truck.
I took a breath before climbing out of the car and pulled out the bag containing the presentation. I rang the bell, standing there holding the coffees in one hand, bag flung over my shoulder. As soon as the door opened, Logan stood in front of me in blue jeans and a white button-down shirt, open at the collar. He looked so crisp and clean and as I walked in and past him I caught a whiff of his cologne, the same cologne he had worn that night. I could smell something cooking and tried hard to ignore it, but my stomach gave me away by letting out a loud groan. I was starving.
“Hungry?” he asked leaning up against the wall.
“Let’s get started, shall we.” I smugly smiled and handed Logan our coffees. I removed my shoes still carrying my bag.
“We should go into the kitchen, it’s lighter in there with the proper space to lay everything out.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said walking into the living room. I looked after him, always the stubborn one, but I followed him into the living room without complaint. I put my bag down, pulled out my presentation and opened the section where I kept his designs. I lay them on the small table, and began with the room we were in.
As I went over the designs with Logan, I noticed he wasn’t saying too much, he either liked them or hated them, I couldn’t tell. He let me get through about five rooms before he made any kind of comment.
“I don’t think these will work, Miss Tate. I like nothing about modern designs.”
“Mister Lehmbeck, may I remind you, you’ve designed a modern home, and you were very quick to tell me that modern design was not only what you liked, but what you wanted.”
“I don’t want to live in a home I am afraid to touch. This is a perfect image for something that will be printed in a magazine, not lived in.”
I ignored the comment and continued onto the next few rooms, each one he quickly dismissed. I was getting rather flustered which didn’t happen often, but I had never gone back to a client and have them turn away almost all my suggestions.
“Let’s see what is next,” Logan demanded impatiently.
As I flipped to one of the last three rooms, explaining what we would do in the third bedroom, he picked up the design and threw it to the side. He then picked up the last two rooms and threw them down. “These will not do, Miss Tate.”
“Mister Lehmbeck, you gave me exactly one week to design the whole interior of this house. It was you that put me on a rushed schedule. Now if this isn’t up to your standards then perhaps you will need to find another designer
or tell me what it is you truly want.”
I couldn’t help it, he was doing this on purpose, I knew it, he knew it and I knew he knew that I knew it. There was nothing wrong with what I had done, I had decorated this house to what he told me he had wanted during our consultation.
He was just about to come up with a rebuttal when the smoke detector beeped loudly. His eyes went wide, and he ran into the kitchen. I frowned wondering what the hell was going on and followed him quickly into the kitchen.
My eyes almost fell out of my head when I rounded the corner. The reason we couldn’t go into the kitchen was right before my eyes. Dirty dishes were every where, covering every surface, and Logan stood by the oven waving a towel in front of the door to dissipate the smoke that was pouring out. I tried my best to keep a straight face at the whole scene.
He turned to look at me and that was when the second over door began spewing smoke. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He shut that portion of the oven off and cracked the door, smoke billowing out. I ran for a window and cranked it open to help clear the air.
I glanced to the tiny round table in the breakfast nook and saw two place settings, candles and a bottle of wine chilling in the center.
“I didn’t know you were having company. Perhaps that is why you liked nothing I had done because you were rushing to get rid of me. We could have just rescheduled tonight.”
“I’m not. I was making you dinner. That way we could continue to go over things together afterwards. You said your day started at four and you canceled our dessert date last night, so I figured I’d feed you.”
I looked around and gave a small smile. Logan standing in front of the mountain of dishes and a complete mess of a stunning kitchen. “I see. Did your mother not teach you anything?”
“I never took much interest in learning how to cook, Gingersnap.” He shrugged and looked around the kitchen at the mess that was before us.
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