Page 120 of Bad Love

“This squid ink pasta. Mom, it’sblack.” He takes another bite, eyes closed in ecstasy. “It’s like everything in this restaurant could be ‘Which of these things is not like the other?’” Rory chews thoughtfully. “Except I guess they’re all the same because they’re allamazing.”

I try to stay in the moment with him, because I’m thrilled he’s thrilled, but I can’t forget that the man who made it all possible isn’there.

Our waiter keeps topping off my glass even though I’m sippingslowly.

I duck into the hallway, a watchful eye on my son while I hit Logan’snumber.

No answer—for the second time. I hang up and return as the chef comes over, starting another conversation with my son about pastries andsoufflé.

He cuts a look to me, concerned. “Mr. Hunter hasn’tarrived?”

“No, he hasn’t.” I force a smile. “I think we’re going to have to wrap up dinner and get thebill.”

“But mom! Dessert,” Rorychides.

I swallow. I can’t imagine what this meal is going tocost.

But his hopeful face has me nodding. “Okay.” I glance at the chef. “Maybe you could ask our waiter to bring the billtoo?”

“I’ll send himover.”

The waiter appears with a crème brûlée my son digs into, inhaling delightedly as he breaks the sugary surface ontop.

The man leans in. “Miss Sullivan, the check will be taken careof.”

“But Logan’s not here. I need to pay you,” Iinsist.

“It’s fine.” His smile makes me feel worse, not better. Especially when Rory looks up athim.

“Can we take one home forLogan?”

I don’t have the heart to sayno.

We’ve finished the dessert and are getting ready to go, the takeout box containing a second dessert, when Rory looks past me. “Logan!”

I spin in my seat to face the door where Logan’s striding through thecurtain.

Relief hits me in a wave, my stomach unknotting a degree at a time when I see he’s in onepiece.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says, regret on hisface.

I rise to go to him but pull back when I smell cigars andbeer.

“Happy birthday, Rory. I got something for you.” He reaches in his pocket. “And I left it at home.” His gaze lands on my dress. “You look great. Both ofyou.”

Rory’s wearing a button-down shirt I got him because he wanted to matchLogan.

But Logan’s wearing a T-shirt and bomber jacket, which, though he can pull it off, seems casual for this place. The Logan I know likes dressingup.

“Dinner was so good, Logan!” Rory gushes. “I can’t believe you missedit.”

“Yeah. Me either.” Logan smiles, but it’stight.

Rory goes to use the bathroom, and I turn to Logan. He closes the distance between us. “Peach…”

"Are you drunk?" Even in the strappy sandals I bought for tonight, I have to lift my chin to look him in theeye.

Logan stills. "I had one beer withNellie.”

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