Page 57 of Mine to Love

“I don’t want you catching a cold.” She turns to me. “Honey, go get one of your sweatshirts for Reese.”

I almost suggest she borrow one from Cami instead, but if I can’t get her naked, the idea of Reese bundled up in something of mine isn’t a bad alternative.

I head up to my room and search through the back of my walk-in closet where I keep my more casual clothes. I don’t have much casual attire in Austin. There’s no need, but I never know what my brothers will want to do in Maine, so I keep a stash of old sweatshirts and joggers here.

I reach for one of my old college sweatshirts and head back down the stairs. “Is this okay?”

Reese shrugs it on over her skimpy tank top. It hangs loosely on her and rests at the bottom of her shorts making it look like she’s naked underneath.

“Perfect. Thanks. I’ll wash it and bring it back to the office next week.”

I nod and lower my gaze to her long, bare legs. “I have some sweatpants you can borrow.”

“I’m good. Thanks.” As she’d done all night, she gives me a polite nod and moves away to talk with someone else in the family. Anyone besides me.

***

I SPEND THE REST OF the weekend finalizing my presentation for Odyssey and figuring out what I’ll wear to my first official business meeting. Over the past week, I’ve had four video conference calls with the executives in New Hampshire, as well with Melinda. Logan hasn’t been in on any of them.

When we get back from this quick trip to New Hampshire, we’ll need to address the elephant in the room once and for all.

Since the office is closed on Monday and it’s a five-hour drive to Odyssey, I drive down to New Hampshire and stay the night. It was Doug’s idea. I didn’t want Doug to think Logan and I don’t speak to each other, which we don’t, so I don’t ask about my boss or where he’ll be staying.

It’s pretty dumb for us to take two cars, but five hours with him sitting so close would be even more uncomfortable than working in the same building. At least we have our own offices and have little need to speak to each other.

Not that Logan is in the office much, and when he is, I can hear him on the phone or cursing at his computer.

I use the long drive to practice my speech, not that it’s a speech. Vincent Clement and Spencer Sanders were excited about my business plan and are excited for my in-person visit. Mine and especially Logan Pierce’s.

I’m not sure how I feel about Logan being there. We didn’t work on the plan together. I did the research, emailed him drafts, took his feedback, and made the necessary changes. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

He returned my drafts in record time with detailed notes. He’s good at his job, hence the millionaire status and fortune 500 company he runs. Plus, who knows what other side businesses he has, like this new one I’m part of. No wonder he doesn’t pay me much attention. LP Financial will make him pennies compared to Pierce Financials in Austin.

I turn down the music as I hit traffic outside Nashua, New Hampshire and listen to the navigation system guide me the final ten minutes. The hotel isn’t far from the highway or from Odyssey, which will make my morning commute tomorrow less than ten minutes. I check into the hotel–nothing even close to the fancy digs in Texas–and settle into my room.

As tempted as I am to ask Doug if Logan would be staying in the hotel, I resist. The last time resulted in an evening of fan-freaking-tastic sex. I curl my lip. So, what’s the problem again?

Despite our lack of communication, it is odd that Logan hasn’t contacted me at all. As far as I know, he’s still planning on joining me at nine at Odyssey. All I can do now is make sure I’m ready for my debut, and not rely on Logan being there for me.

***

THE ARROGANT JERK HAS the audacity of showing up early. Thirty minutes early, making me look late, which I’m not. It’s a quarter of.

“Miss Elliot, they’re waiting for you in the conference room,” the receptionist says, greeting me at the door.

“Nice to meet you in person.” Vincent Clement holds out his hand. From our video calls he reminded me of my father, and in person he has the same charm.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Clement.”

“We’re a casual company. You can call me Vinny. And you’ve met, or rather seen, Spencer Sanders as well.”

“Spence is fine.” His handshake has a different vibe than Vinny’s. It lingers a fraction of a second longer than professional, or maybe it only seems that way because I can feel the heat of Logan’s stare from my peripheral vision.

Closer to my age, Spence has a rugged edge to him, like he doesn’t belong working in a tech company. Tanned skin, calloused hands, and a five o’clock shadow make him look like he belongs outside, working with his hands. From what I read about Vincent and Spencer, the son and stepfather have a close relationship and built their company from the ground up eight years ago, but both lack business experience and have been riding on luck.

Wearing a navy polo and khakis, Vinny and Spence fit in quite well with the laid-back atmosphere, where Logan stands out in his tailored suit and silk tie. My black skirt and heels and light gray blouse outfit is versatile enough to fit in with either climate. That’s why I picked it.

“Can I get you coffee, Miss Elliot?” the receptionist asks as I take my seat.

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