Page 133 of Bad Love

"Never said I didn’t appreciate Hunter.” The blasé tone is gone, and there’s an edge underneath. “You didn’t know him then, but back in school? He was the go-to guy for everything. A bet. A trip. A party. But so were a lot of guys. Later, most of them decided they were too good for that. They traded the good times for eighty-hour work weeks and conferencecalls.

“But those assholes will wake up in twenty years and see that building businesses, putting their real lives on hold to run on some made up hamster wheel—it’s allbullshit.

“They think what we do is play games? They’re playing a bigger one, and they don’t even get it.Huntergets it. He doesn’t care about shit that doesn’t matter and never has. But lately, I dunno what’s got into him. He’s not thesame."

Nellie’s voice drops off at the end, and I realize he’s not pissed—he’ssad.

Nellie doesn’t like that Logan’s growing up and taking an interest in more than poker andbets.

I feel forhim.

Because I know what it’s like to lose Logan, and I wouldn’t wish that onanyone.

My gaze drops to the origami flower on my desk, a double of the one I made at home. I’ve made two flowers, a dog and a cat for Rory, and a tiny box Rena claims is for her coke, which I’m pretty sure is ajoke.

I wouldn’t have made any if it wasn’t forLogan.

"I'm not taking him away from you,” I say softly. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But Hunter’s Cross means the world to him. You're his friend. You must knowthat."

"Well…yeah."

"So, you'll take down the reviews?" Hope leaps in mychest.

I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he says, "I could. But it'd take some time. And I’m not backing down on this bet. We’ve come too far forthat."

Frustration works through me. “Come on, Nelson.Please.”

"Come on you,” comes the response. “You’re the marketing girl. You think this is God's gift to women? You tell 'em how good itis."

I hang up, lowering my face between my knees and rubbing mytemples.

Think,Kendall.

This isn’t about sending Rory to camp or about picking myclients.

This is forLogan.

If you’d told me six months ago I’d be running a national campaign to sell sex toys—ones I had a hand in improving, I’d have laughed and blushed you out of theroom.

But I’m not that womananymore.

Because there’s something that matters more than all of it: Logan’s family’scompany.

I dig my fingers into my forehead as if the small circles will dislodge somethingimportant.

Then I pull out my notebook and open to a new page after the list of contacts I used to sell talent showtickets.

Nelson’s words play back through mymind.

“You think this is God's gift to women?You tell 'em how good itis.”

My pen stills on the page as my gaze flicks back to thelist.

I have anidea.

30

"Next order of business,"Monty says from the corner of the boardroom table. "Reviewing projections for the next twelvemonths."

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