“Huh. I thought you weren't into all that celebrity gossip stuff?” Stacia snapped me from my thoughts. Her head was tilted slightly, like I was a puzzle she was trying to figure out, gathering the pieces together one by one.
I downed my coffee and gave her a smile so big it went to my hairline. “What can I say? It happens to the best of us.” I pushed back from the table, already planning my escape route. “I actually only have a few minutes. Lots of meetings back at the office.”
She rose too, but she gave me a little slack and didn't follow. Very minimal slack.
“I'm not dropping this, Melissa! We'll talk later.”
I gave her an awkward wave and stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, fading into the crowd. The Kaleidoscope building was right across the street, but I walked past it. I needed to move, to stay in motion. I wasn’t ready to admit that I was trying to outrun the memory of Logan’s lips pressed against mine.
CHAPTER FOUR
I collected myself as best I could as the elevator dragged me back up to Kaleidoscope's offices on the 15th floor. The door opened and the switch inside me flipped, turning my face bright and happy. Years of my father drilling into me that appearances were important, were everything, had been seared into my consciousness. Even though I wanted to climb into my car and drive to San Francisco, find Logan and do...something, I launched my heels forward, turning to my ever growing stack of projects.
I flashed Brenda Walker a smile that I mostly meant. She was the receptionist for Kaleidoscope, perched at the front desk and the only one that gave it to my dad straight and still had her job. She was 65, with salt and pepper hair and kind eyes. I wasn't close with my grandparents, but if I would have had the opportunity to pick my grandmother, I would have picked Brenda.
I angled toward the back offices, but she waved me over, giddy with excitement. I slowly approached her, apprehension barely hitting my radar as I got caught up in her bright eyed bouncing.
“What's the occasion?” I bit my lip, adrenaline shooting through me like a rocket. “Oh my gosh is it Dietnem Motors? They decided to sign?”
She pushed her horn rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose, only to have them fall back to their original place as she shook her head effusively. “No, it's much better than that!”
I was officially on the edge of my seat. The Dietnem family behind the regional stock car racing team had money in the bank...millions to spare that was burning a hole in their pocket since one of their drivers became an overnight sensation. The problem? The patriarch at the head of the family, Johnny Dietnem, was old school and hated every single concept he was presented with. After our last meeting when he all but stormed out, we were all waiting for them to say they were going with a different firm. Dad was offering a significant raise for whoever could get them to sign the dotted line.
Brenda clasped her hands together with glee. “Someone sent you flowers!”
I repeated it in my head twice before it clicked and when it registered, I gripped the side of her desk. How did Logan know that I'd been thinking about him? Missing him, craving him? My mouth was dry and dusty. I struggled to find the words, to say something, but only a croak came out.
Brenda gripped my hands tight, her joy cocooning me in warmth and care. “I'm so happy you found a nice boy after that no good Jason! You know first comes flowers, then comes marriage—”
I couldn't help but laugh at that. A grandmother through and through, trying to marry me off. “I'm not sure that's how it goes, Mrs. Walker.”
She let me go, nodding in the direction of my office. “It's a gorgeous arrangement.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Very expensive.”
I had to restrain myself to keep from dashing toward my office. I saw the interested looks from my co-workers, the questions sparkling in their eyes. I stepped into my office and shut the door behind me, then faced the most beautiful red roses I'd ever seen. I'd never truly noticed how monotone the rest of my office was until that moment. I was transported to some noir, black and white film, my desk, bookshelf, and office chair nothing extraordinary. The walls were blank and unimpressive. The only color sat perched beside my computer. The richest red. The color of passion. The color of forgiveness.
I barreled toward my desk, picking up the vase and burying my nose in the understated floral scent, water droplets spritzing my skin. It took me back to the beach. Back to him.
I bit my lip excitedly as I plucked the note from the center. I never would have pegged Logan for a flowers kind of guy, but he'd get no complaints from me. I remembered all but begging Jason to get me flowers and his rebuttal that I couldn't even keep my potted plants at my office alive. Trying to explain to him that it was the thought that counts was pointless. I backed down, just like always. Pretended I was happy with the scraps of love he gave me.
I pushed the memory away, not wanting it to further poison my moment. I opened the card, reading the note aloud.
“Forgive me, Mel.”
My heart slammed to a stop, then plummeted to the floor. The nickname, something I hated until he whispered it while he was making love to me...it wasn't, couldn't be Logan. My head refused to believe it, scrolling to the end. Hoping I was wrong.
Nothing's been right without you here. I made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me.—Jason
“No,” I whispered, clutching the vase so tightly I was surprised it didn't shatter in my hands. “No!” The word echoed around the room and returned to me, making me feel sick.
The flowers weren't from Logan. They were from my ex. The same ex who broke up with me because he fell for someone else.
The room blurred as tears filled my eyes. I was back in my apartment, wearing that ridiculous lingerie, so excited for him to come home. Hoping that night would be the start of better times. Happier times. The door opened, he took one look at me and asked, 'Are you wearing lingerie?' From his complete disinterest, he may as well have asked me why are you wearing lingerie. The Santa Cruz trip was supposed to be for us, but he'd dropped the bomb before I could even get it out. He wasn't in love with me anymore...he'd fallen for someone else. I'd kicked him out and was left alone, left with the wreckage of my broken heart and a trip I'd already paid for.
Something had clicked inside me and I decided to go without him.
And that's when I met Logan.
My heart clenched into a balled fist in my chest. I knew it wasn't fair to feel slighted by Logan or upset that he hadn’t sent the flowers. We weren't even technically a couple. He didn't owe me anything. He made me no promises besides a sexual experience that would liberate me, and he'd done just that. But I still felt a gut wrenching hollowness. I wanted to shut off the lights, close my blinds, and curl up on the floor and cry until there were no tears left to run down my cheeks. It would be so easy to sink to my knees, to give over to the emotion I'd been bottling up, the pain I thought was finally ending. I thought these flowers were a do-over, a second chance with Logan, not a too-late apology from the ex that never really got me in the first place.