Page 101 of Logan
I turn back to him. “No,” I grit out, my hands curling into fists on my thighs.
“But it is about a woman.” He narrows his eyes, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Who?”
Fuck, how did he guess in under two minutes? “I don’t want to talk to you about it.”
“Okay, fine.” Liam holds up his hands in a placatinggesture. “But if you want to talk to someone, maybe you should call Cora. She is the only woman in the family, after all, and she understands relationships. She doesn’t plan weddings for nothing.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I say. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”
Liam gets to his feet with a sigh, his eyes soft with sympathy. “Don’t be stubborn, Logan. Sometimes you need to know when to surrender.”
He leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him, and I’m left alone with my thoughts, a maelstrom of regret and longing and bitter self-recrimination.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should call Cora. Somehow, she always knows everything. It’s not for nothing that her business is so successful.
I pick up the phone again, my fingers hovering over the buttons for a long moment before I press the call button.
“Hey, Brother,” she answers on the second ring, her voice warm and familiar. “What advice do you need today?”
“How do you know that’s why I called?”
“You’re not exactly a chatterbox.” She laughs, the sound bright and carefree. “You don’t call me just to chat like Liam does. I know it’s not about Dad because then Liam would’ve updated me before you. And it can’t be business because when you need advice on business, you make do with texting. So, you need advice on something personal. I’m guessing...a woman?”
Fuck, she’s good. It’s a pity she doesn’t want to work at Valeur. I could use her sharp perception and uncanny insight.
“Want to come over for a cup of tea and a talk?” she asks, her voice gentle.
I hesitate for a long moment, pride warring with desperation. I’m not used to asking for help, to admitting weakness, but something tells me if anyone can understand, can guide me through this tangled mess of emotions, it’s Cora.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“I’ll put the kettle on,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “See you soon, Big Brother.”
Maybe, with Cora’s help, I can get what I want.
Who I want.
Even if it means risking everything.
I stand in front of the large window in Cora’s living room, staring out at the pool outside, my thoughts a tangled mess of regret and longing.
Cora sets a teapot and cups on the small table before taking a seat on the sofa. “So, are you going to talk to me, or are you going to stand there and brood all evening?” She arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Where’s your staff?” I abandon my vigil and sit across from her, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.
“They’ve all gone home for the day. We’re alone if that’s what you’re worried about.” She leans forward and pours hot water for both of us, the steam curling invitingly from the delicate cups. “I even canceled on Arlo for you.”
“Arlo?” I frown, the name unfamiliar.
“I’m seeing someone now. His name is Arlo, and he’s lovely.”She smiles, a soft, secret sort of smile that I’ve never seen on her face before.
“I’m happy for you, Peanut,” I say, and I mean it. “Is he good enough for you?”
She tilts her head, considering. “I don’t know. What do you consider good enough for me?”
“Heavenly goddess level,” I say, and Cora laughs, the sound bright and warm. “What? You look amazing. You’re a successful business owner, a member of a well-known family, brilliant, know everything about everything. It’s hard to measure up to you.”
“Thank you, I guess.” She shakes her head, still smiling. “But don’t say that to Arlo. You might scare him off.”
