Made to be His ( The Archer Family 1)

Logan checked his email for the fourth time, fighting the urge to click the inbox over and over again until he got the result he wanted. Two weeks. Two whole weeks and his agent still hadn't gotten back to him.

The pre-season publicity rush was bound to start booking up any week now, and apparently dropping him a line or two to let him know where he stood was too much to ask. With gritted teeth, he sat back in the computer chair and spun around, letting his head get as dizzy as the rest of him. He was running out of time. If he didn't figure something out soon, he'd actually have to rely on his deal with Andy in order to turn things around...

Which, considering the fact that he hadn’t heard from her in a week solid, seemed just about as likely as everything else at this point.

It wasn’t that she’d avoided him. The week had been a sort of dance, really. He’d call and she’d answer politely, just like she might have if their near-kiss hadn’t happened. But there was still the memory of that moment.

The smell of her strawberry shampoo that hung in the air around her. The glow of her creamy white skin against the deep, blood red of her dress. Every time he’d heard her voice since that night, he’d imagined her just as she’d looked then.

Which, of course, meant he also imagined the pain and conflict that had knitted her brow when she’d pulled away from him and practically sprinted to her car.

He knew she felt the tension just as much as he did, that the thought of what might have been clung to every word she spoke. That was probably why none of their conversations had lasted more than five minutes. And also why he’d yet to schedule his photo shoot.

He glanced at his phone, then lazily swiped one finger over the screen. Today could be different. He could call her, and then…

What was that quote about the definition of lunacy? Speaking to the same girl over and over and freaking over again and expecting different results?

If that was the case, he was damned near certifiable.

If she could only be less funny, that would be something. Less smart, too, would be helpful. Or if she hated sports, it might have been easier to walk away. Instead, there he was, staring at her number.

He could simply fire his agent, hire Andy, and then all of his problems would be solved. Except for his burning desire to sleep with his best friend’s sister. A sister who would then also be a co-worker…

He pinched his nose between two fingers and closed his eyes, but before he had a chance to complicate his life with further thought, his phone started buzzing across his desk. Glancing at the screen, he found Matt’s face grinning up at him.

Good. Matt. That would make things easier.

He thumbed “answer” and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hola mi amigo," Matt's bright voice buzzed over the line.

"Hey man, what's up."

"Not much, just got back from a press junket and thought It might interest you to know that a certain sports reporter told me that I shouldn't hang out with such low level swine."

Logan groaned. Almost every time Matt went on some expedition in the world of media, Logan would get this call. Maybe he'd run into some stewardess that felt slighted or an old girlfriend who actually had been slighted. The bottom line? None of it was good.

"You have no way of knowing she meant me." Logan rebuffed.

"Except for the fact that she mentioned you by name, yeah, I guess I don't."

Logan paused. "Swine? Really?"

"Her words, not mine." Matt said.

"Which certain sports reporter is that?" Logan racked his brain. There was Julie from the Sports Broadcast and Anna from Sports News Tonight. But he'd been nice to both of them. Maybe they hadn't gone on second dates of anything, but he'd been a gentleman. Cordial.

"Felicity from Sports Weekly. She told me--"

"Oh god." Logan groaned.

"Yeah, oh god. Did you seriously leave her in the middle of a date to go on a date with someone else?"

"it was college," Logan protested, how was I supposed to know not to do that?"

"Common human decency for one. And to hear her tell it, she gave you a second chance and then--"

Shit. "Right. I'd forgotten about that."