Page 6 of Bad Love

Daisy rounds the hot lumberjack, her spike heels clicking on the floor. Tight ripped jeans under a midnight silk blouse should look casual, but you’d mistake her for royalty trying to go incognito. Her dark angled bob swings. That and her black-rimmed glasses make her pink lipstick pop. "Kendall. Rena. This is LoganHunter."

Daisy pulls out a task chair for the man, but he insists she take it. The frat-boy lumberjack grabs one at the end of the table, sinking into the seat as if he’s heavyenough to crush the air from your lungs if he lay on top ofyou.

"Are you going to sit?" he asks,amused.

The flush starts up my face again, and I realize I'm the only one standing. "Yes. I was just…watering."

“And I’m sure your wall forest is very grateful.” At his deadpan, I hang up the water bottle and grab a chair next to Daisy at the birchtable.

My boss doesn't seem perturbed, but frat-lumberjack Logan looksentertained.

"Hunter needs our help with a new product," Daisy tells Rena andme.

"I need to sell ten thousandvibrators.”

I snap to attention because as distracting as this man—this whole situation—is, this is business. But at his words, I cough, my lungs suddenly unable to complete the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide they’ve developed such competence for in the last twenty-six years. "Excuseme?"

"Vibrators," he repeats, pronouncing each syllable in a smooth, warm voice that drags my gaze to full lips. "Sex toys. Used primarily by women for manualstim—"

"Got it." I hold up a hand because if the hot lumberjack doesn’t stop talking, the world willexplode.

At Closer, we handle lots of relationship products, but my clients lean more toward dating apps. Personal support stuffed animals. A psychologist-informed communications app as an alternative for couples’therapy.

I don’t dosex.

Not that I’m ignorant about it, but I’d cop tonaïve.

I grew up in a religious family, but we had the internet, and I've lived in New York for severalyears.

That doesn’t mean I’m ready to talk straight-faced about sex toys with a lumberjack with beautifulhands.

"I have ninety days," he goeson.

I flip open my notebook, half to write things down and half to bury my face. "Ninety days to sell tenthousand…”

“Vibrators,” he repeats, and I think I twitchagain.

“Right. What are salesnow?"

"Noidea."

I look up, and for the first time, I’m distracted by something other than this man or his product. "How can you have noidea?"

“Rena,” Daisy cuts in, “I know you have personal commitments over the next couple of months, so I’m hoping you’ll help if needed, but I’d like Kendall to take thelead.”

"There's no one better to handle you," Rena tells the lumberjack, completely straight-faced.

I kick her under thetable.

But it's Hunter who flinches, and I sink lower in mychair.

"Daisy, could I have a quick word?" Irequest.

Rena and I follow my boss out of the conference room and pull the door behind me. Rena passes us, shooting me a wink as shedoes.

I narrow my gaze at her, but I can’t protest the assignment. Rena is going to be the maid of honor at a rock star’s wedding. Hard to argue withthat.

I turn back to my boss. "Daisy, I’d love to help with this. But my client roster is pretty robust at the moment.” Which is French for “I’m working sixty hours a week thanks to a couple of clients who won’t be toldno.”

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