Logan’s lips twitched in a brief smile. Just days ago, those had been the words he’d thought would make his whole life. But now, they didn’t quite carry the weight he thought they would.
Mary put down her fork, her eyes narrowing. She tucked her bouncy black hair behind one ear and gave him a concerned expression. “What’s wrong, sugar? You haven’t been yourself since I walked in this door. Are you having trouble with that sweet little brunette girlfriend of yours?”
Logan’s chin snapped back, alarms sounding in his head. It wouldn’t be professional of him to go into his personal problems with the very person who could make or break his restaurant, but Mary Prescott seemed to know everything without even asking. There couldn’t be any harm in simply laying out his problems. And he didn’t really have anyone else to talk to at the moment. Not with Michael hating him and Darren recovering from his recent destructive binge.
“She’s not speaking to me right now,” he said, leaning forward slightly. His eyes drilled into hers, pleading for some sort of advice. “Someone told her that all I care about is money and fitting in with the elite. She grew up with a cold and distant father, who’s only goal in life was to increase his fortune, and I think that freaked her out. It all kind of imploded.”
Mary pursed her red lips, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses. “And do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Only care about money and fitting in with the elite?” she asked, resting her chin on her hands.
“Of course not!” Logan inhaled sharply through his nose. “I grew up in a trailer home and I’m not ashamed of it. But I have always felt like I didn’t belong with the other rich kids because of it. And this restaurant was sort of my way of finally belonging.”
Mary hummed her understanding as she nodded along. “So, you do care about fitting in with the elite?”
He rubbed the side of his head and furrowed his brow in frustration. “Well, yes, I guess. But not to the point of forsaking real friendship or love for it. I’d give up my billions in a heartbeat if that was the only way for me to find true love. I’d gladly live in another trailer home, if it meant she and I could be together.”
“Have you told the girl that?” Mary arched one black eyebrow, the small wrinkles around her mouth deepening. “I’d assume she’d want to hear it.”
“No, she won’t return my calls.” He silently cursed the phone in his pocket, willing it to vibrate.
“Then I suggest you find another way to contact her,” she answered with a grin, leaning back in her seat. “Don’t give up now.”
He stared at the tablecloth, letting her words sink into his brain.
“And I’d suggest you find it sooner rather than later,” she added with a flourish of her fork, “because son, I’ve never seen someone hit with the love bug so hard. Your long face is sad enough to bring a tear to a glass eye. Find the girl and return a smile to that chiseled jaw of yours or else I might just have to drop your restaurant a star in my rating.”
Logan jumped up from the table, his heart pattering with new-found courage as he muttered out his thanks. Mary Prescott was right. He was giving up too easily. If he couldn’t find Rachel, he certainly knew someone else who could lead him to her. Michael’s office was just a few blocks away in the business district. He’d march over there and force him to see just how much he cared about Rachel.
And then Michael would have to help him find her.
“You hurry your sweet buns after her, you hear me?” Mary called after him, laughing madly. “And don’t forget to call me if it doesn’t work out between the two of you.”
RACHEL GRUMBLED TO herself as she rode the elevator of Linex Investments standing next to a silent man dressed all in black, his hands clasped in front of him. When the doors slid open, he gestured for her to go ahead. She didn’t need his direction. She was already striding down the hallway with long, angry steps and didn’t stop until she burst through the door of a familiar corner office.
“Michael, I don’t appreciate being summoned to your office by your manservant,” she blustered, throwing her hands in the air.
Her brother glanced coolly at her, his ear pressed to his phone. Holding up a finger, he said his goodbyes to whoever was on the other end. Rachel crossed her arms and impatiently tapped the toe of her yellow kitten heels, glancing around at the massive expanse of Michael’s plush office.
Despite the terrible aching in her head that morning, she’d managed to throw on a pair of tight black jeans and a lightweight yellow cardigan in the hopes of getting out on the town to hunt down her next job. She’d show Michael and her father just how strong she was.
Even though her heart felt like it was dying.
Michael hung up the phone and gazed at her above his steepled fingers. “For the record, Thomas isn’t my manservant. He’s my driver. And I asked him to bring you here so that we could talk face-to-face about last night.”
Rachel blinked up at the ceiling, her chin trembling. “You don’t have to lecture me. I know you’re disappointed. I’m a complete embarrassment to the Knight name.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Michael’s frown deepened. He rose from his high-backed leather chair and rounded the enormous desk. “I was going to ask if you’re okay. You seemed awfully upset.”
She closed her eyes against the stinging tears that threatened to fall. It was true, she’d been upset. Darren had spoken to her like a devil on her shoulder, whispering doubts into her ear. All her insecurities had come roaring
to the surface and resulted in one, embarrassing public display in front of the man she was supposed to trust.
“I’ll be okay,” she said, opening her eyes. Her brother stood in front of her, concern etched into the lines on his face. “I liked him, Michael. We grew really close over the last few weeks. I thought there was something different about him. But turns out, he’s the same as any other guy chasing his fortune. Except for you.”
Michael grabbed both her upper arms and squeezed gently. “So you were seeing Logan?”