Page 51 of Mine to Love

“What? That’s strange. I’d have thought Logan would have showed it to you this week when he was here.”

He was in Maine? “Guess he’s been too busy doing whatever millionaire financial investor type people do.”

Emerson sets her glass down and rests her elbows on the table. “Wow. Quite the undercurrent of bitterness. Not even officially started yet and already on the outs with your boss?”

When I don’t laugh it off, Emerson grows serious.

“For real, Reese? What happened? Are you regretting taking the job? You’ll do great. I hope you’re not intimidated because of his fancy degrees. You’re wicked intelligent and the hardest worker I know.”

“Wicked, huh?” I attempt the humor to throw off my intuitive friend. I’m not ready to tell Emerson about the sexcapades. She won’t judge, but now it feels wrong, even though he felt so incredibly right.

Obviously, Logan has second, third, fourth thoughts which makes me feel cheap.

“Holden says Logan works round the clock. I still can’t believe he didn’t make time to show you around.”

“I drove by the other day when Doug sent me the key. It’s a cute building on Seaview Drive, so it’s not like I’ll need a grand tour.”

“You have the key?” Emerson places her napkin on her empty plate. “Then let’s go take a look.”

We don’t even bother waiting for the check and place a few bills on the table that will more than cover our tab. Emerson loops her arm through mine and we giggle all the way to her car.

“How many mimosas did you have?” I ask when Emerson slides behind the wheel.

“Two. Same as you. I’m excited is all. This is a dream come true for you. I want you to be as happy as I am.”

“You’re happy because you’re getting sex on the regular.”

The hotel sex was hot enough to last a normal person a few weeks, maybe even months, but it makes me want it even more. One night was not enough, but it will have to be. It was enough for Logan. He got me out of his system pretty darn quick. And his blatant rejection this week has helped get him out of mine.

Sort of. Kind of. Not really. I hate myself that he occupies so much real estate in my head even though he’s been a complete ass by ignoring me. Spineless, ballless sack of shit.

“Which place is it?” Emerson asks as we reach downtown Acadia Falls. It isn’t a touristy area like Bar Harbor, but our downtown is cute and popular, bringing extra business in the summer.

“The white and brick building. The office is above Hole in One.”

Seaview Drive is quaint with its brick buildings and small businesses. Everything from a bookstore, craft shop, coffeehouse, ice cream parlor, insurance agency, and even a lawyer’s office.

“Good luck keeping away from the donuts. Their coffee is just as good.” Emerson parks her car in one of the open spots. “I didn’t know there were offices upstairs.”

I take out my key and unlock the door on the side of the building. The smell of sugar and vanilla permeate the air, and we climb the stairs to the second floor. I unlock the second door and step into a beautiful open space.

The dark wood floors shine from the sun pouring in the bay windows. The entryway is inviting with a pair of winged back chairs in front of the window, a coffee table, and another pair of chairs opposite them. A waiting area, I suppose.

A dark cherry desk sits to the side. There’s no computer or phone on it. Just an empty, elegant desk and chair. I follow the navy and cream-colored runner rug down a short hallway that has two open rooms off it. The conference room isn’t overly large. A rich table matching the desk out front, and ten chairs fit snugly without seeming crowded. Opposite the room is a bathroom, simple and minimal but with a lot of potential. A few decorations and knickknacks will make it seem less sterile.

“Pretty big for a work bathroom.” Emerson tugs on my elbow. “Let’s check out your office.”

I follow Emerson across the main room and to the other side of the space. We go into the first room on the right. Big windows overlook Seaview Drive, and an opulent desk sits in front of it. Like the one out front, it’s bare. The office is huge, housing a leather sofa and two chairs, as well as a small table to the back that can seat four for an informal meeting.

“This must be Logan’s office. Elegant. Impersonal.” I don’t even try to hide my scorn for him.

“So much potential. I mean, look at the built-in bookshelves. Some plants, a few pieces of pottery, and a couple of pictures and the room will be stunning.”

“Sure. Let’s see the other office.” We cross the hall to an even bigger room. “Wow.” The windows overlook the ocean, and there is even a balcony. The furniture is mostly the same. Desk, couch, chair, tables, and void of anything personal. This one must be his space.

“Logan doesn’t fool around. Who would’ve thought this space was up here?”

We poke our heads in the kitchen that has a decent size fridge, oven, microwave, and coffee maker.

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