Page 58 of Seven of Hearts

“Most of our work is with corporations or under military defense contracts. We’re rarely in the public eye. Discretion is far more profitable.”

Leah jumped in. “The company was started by Logan and Kylie’s brother-in-law, Will.”

“Oh. So, it was nepotism, then?” Dr. Holloway said before rattling off her order with no fewer than fifty modification requests for the dish.

Mr. Holloway went for the steak—well done twice over—while Leah opted for pasta, and I went with chicken.

“Mom,” Leah hissed when the server disappeared.

I trailed my fingers across her back to try and soothe her and keep my temper at bay, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was working for either of us.

“It’s a family business,” I said. “Both of my brothers-in-law work for the company, and we’re anticipating my younger brother, Hunter, will join the company soon.”

“You can’t fault anyone for being suspicious of you being a vice president at your age. It’s suspect,” Mr. Holloway said.

“Or I’m good at my job,” I shot back.

“I think that’s enough posturing for one dinner,” Leah said. “Besides, the food hasn’t even come yet. How about we start with dessert? Logan and I found out the baby’s gender today and I thought it would be fun to do a little reveal.” She popped the top of the box and doled out each of the four cupcakes. They were topped in white frosting and pink and blue sprinkles.

Dr. Holloway grimaced. “I don’t do processed sugar, dairy, artificial dyes, or gluten.”

“Well, I do,” Leah chirped without a care in the world. “You can just break yours in half to see the color inside, and then I’ll eat it.”

“You should really watch your weight,” Dr. Holloway snipped. “You’re letting yourself go. I only gained nine and a half pounds when I was pregnant with you.”

Leah flinched, and her eyes turned glassy.

17

LOGAN

“That’s enough,” I barked.

Dr. Holloway and her husband looked shocked. “Excuse you, young man,” Mr. Holloway said.

“You can take cheap shots at me all you want, but you will not speak to Leah that way,” I clipped.

“Logan, it’s fine,” Leah whispered.

Mr. Holloway guffawed. “Now, just who do you think you are?—”

“Who do I think I am?” I shot back. “It doesn’t matter who I think I am. It matters who Leah is. She’s your daughter. But more important than her being your daughter—and I mean that wholeheartedly—she’s the mother of my child.”

His face turned stony. We were frozen in a standoff as the server sidled up to the table and doled out plates in the tense silence.

Leah used the corner of her napkin to discreetly dab her eyes. Unfortunately, her mother still noticed.

“I’m not sure what you’re so upset about,” she said, rather nonplussed as she sipped her wine. “This was your doing, Leah. You know what they define as insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I think I’d like to go,” Leah whispered.

“That might be the definition of insanity.” I pulled out my wallet and dropped enough cash on the table to cover the bill and tip for the four completely untouched dinners. “But it usually doesn’t apply to a child wanting love and connection with their parents. I think the definition of insanity is the inability to put your feelings aside for the good of your child. Or maybe that’s the definition of selfishness. Either way, you’re the prime example of both.”

Leah stood and slipped her hand into mine. “The baby’s a boy, by the way. I just thought you’d like to know.”

She made it back to the car before completely breaking down into tears. The drive back to her place was made in silence, except for the quiet sniffles from the passenger seat.

I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t heartbroken. I was fucking furious.

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