Page 84 of When You Left Me Speechless

Two.

My heart feels like it’s in my throat. “Sir, if you could please move, you’re blocking my mailbox.” I take a step to the side. My eyes stay locked on the elevator.

One.

CHAPTER 52: BREATHE IN FOR FOUR

POPPY

Ireach for my phone, wanting to text Logan an idea for the car ride home. I blush at the thought in my head. I don’t know what has gotten into me, but I can’t help it when I am near him, and after last night, I have a lot of ideas about what we should do next. I fumble through my pockets and realize I must have left my phone in my purse. I giggle to myself, imagining whispering the thought into his ear and seeing that sexy grin across his face.

The elevator stops, and the doors open.

Standing there waiting to board is Mrs. Wilson and a man I’ve never seen before toting a dolly full of boxes.

Shittttt.

At the sight of her, the keys and painting I’m holding falls to the ground. I quickly drop to the floor to pick them up. My mind tries to process what is happening. I am in an apartment complex that is not mine, with a man I can not under any circumstance be caught with, and the very person from Pecan Grove who hates me the most is now standing in front of me. I also have a very large canvas with a heart painted around our initials in my possession.Fuck.I fumble to pick up my things.

“Ms. Collins, how interesting that I’m now running into you here.” Her voice is sharp and cold.

I slowly stand, meeting her gaze. My eyes shift behind where they are standing, hoping I don’t see Logan. Maybe he was able to escape running into her.

To my horror, I find him still standing in the lobby. His mouth is wide open as he watches me meet our fate. I immediately feel like I have just been punched in the gut.

“Oh, hello. Yes. Yes. What a small world.” I fall over my words, not exactly sure what to say.

“Funny, I believe that is what Mr. Peterson said when I ran into him a few moments ago.”

Shit, she knows.The mover steps forward to hold the elevator door. I take a deep breath and try to let it out slowly.

“Do you live here too?” she continues.

I shake my head. “No, I, um, I don’t. I was just visiting a friend.”

She looks down at her watch and then back at me. A small, unnerving smile creeps across her face. “Visiting a friend before nine in the morning?” She glances back at Logan and then at me. “How interesting.”

My cheeks heat, and I do a terrible job keeping my composure.

“And did you and your friend paint that?”

“Huh?”

She nods toward the canvas I’m holding.

“Oh, um, no, it was a gift,” I say. I flip the painting around and move it behind my back.

“A gift?”

“Yeah, yes. Yes, it was a gift from my friend.”

“How nice. Anyway, it was so nice running into you, Ms. Collins. Please make sure to tell Mr. Peterson the same.” Her voice is insincere and calculated.

“Mr. Peterson…” I try to say his name like a question. Like I am not sure what she is talking about, but instead, it comes out as a statement, confirming what she already knows to be true.

I hear her let out a little laugh. I move out of the way, allowing them to walk into the elevator. My eyes find Logan and fill with tears. I hear the doors behind me close, and the elevator begins to move. I walk across the lobby to where he stands. He reaches out and moves a strand of hair behind my ear.

“It’s going to be fine,” he says. I nod in agreement, but the knot in my gut tells me otherwise. He grabs his mail, and we walk to his truck in silence.

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