Page 12 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“Great. See you tomorrow.”

Yeah. And maybe then I won’t stick my foot in my face.

Five

Jace

“Put that over there. Yes. Right there. Right where my finger’s pointing. Yep. Is the banner hung up outside yet? Well, it needs to be. It should’ve been up there yesterday. When are the actors coming in?” I asked.

“Today, sir.”

“Good. Are the designated rooms for them clean? They need to be clean. Their first tour stop is here and they’re doing five shows. The most their doing in one single venue. Their rooms need to be spotless,” I said.

“A cleaning service came in yesterday, Mr. Logan. But I’ll double-back and make sure nothing is out of place.”

“Good. And where the hell are the promotions posters? They should’ve already been up around the city!”

I felt like I was going crazy. A Broadway tour was making my theater their first and last stops on their countrywide tour and nothing was in place. Not the promotional posters. Not the banners. Not the kiosk sign out front. I liked my secretary. He was a good kid. But he really dropped the ball with this one. So I was stuck with cleaning up his mess while the torrential downpour of my life kept rolling across people’s television screens.

“Mr. Logan?”

“What?” I asked.

“There’s a woman here to see you.”

“Bring her in. Probably one of the actresses. Show her to the changing room and tell her the rest of her friends are welcome whenever they get here. And get them something to fucking drink.”

“Yes, sir.”

Raking my hand through my hair, I went outside. I climbed up onto a ladder and helped the janitor put up the letters that boasted of the upcoming performances. No wonder we weren’t selling any damn tickets. No one knew about the damn performance! I had no idea how the hell I was going to salvage this issue. I could probably put up snippets of them rehearsing and make it a flash sale. Something that could quickly go viral in the community.

“Mr. Logan!”

“Holy sh-”

I grabbed onto the ladder as my heart rate shot through the roof.

“Are you trying to kill me?” I asked.

“Sir, I’m sorry to keep bothering you. But the woman said she’s not an actress?”

“Not an act-”

Shit. I’d completely forgotten about that damn interview. I looked at my watch and saw it was ten minutes past eleven. Damn it. The entire day had been such a whirlwind that I didn’t stop to think once about that woman c

oming to interview for the nannying position.

“Send her up to my office. I’ll be there in a second,” I said.

“Mr. Logan, she said-”

“Just fucking do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

I finished with the sign attached to the theater before I headed to my office. I wiped the sweat from my brow, cursing how I looked. Sweating through a damn suit. How professional. She’d probably think I was some sort of slob that couldn't take care of myself. I headed up to my office, grabbing a bottle of water on the way. But when I stepped into the quiet arena I’d told her to meet me at, I paused.

Even from behind, she was a beautiful woman.

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