“Watch it,” I warned. “You know I can fire you.”
“You know you never would,” he said with confidence. I rolled my eyes and stepped further forward as the line at Angie’s began to move.
After my encounter with Logan the day before, I needed an Angie’s fix to get my day started. I woke up feeling younger than I’d felt in years. Just one conversation with Logan and I was back to my old self again. Vulnerable. Exposed. I hated my old self.
“How was the funeral?” Ian asked, snapping me back to reality.
“It was… fine,” I said with a shake of my head. I tried to clear my thoughts, but images of Logan were flooding my mind. I saw his smiling face the night he told me about the SEALs. I saw him flush with rage just a few hours before. His dark eyes looked angrier than I’d ever seen them.
“Uh oh,” Ian said.
“What?”
“I know what that means,” he said.
“You do?” I asked with a small chuckle. “And what does it mean?”
“It means you ran into that old flame of yours. Leo? Logan? Something like that.”
I sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. I would never know how Ian did it, but he could always hone in on the one thing I didn’t want to talk about. He had a sixth sense for things like that.
“What old flame?” I asked evasively. Ian snorted on the other end of the phone and I knew he didn’t buy it.
“Talk to Ian sweetie,” he said, putting on his therapist voice. “Come on. Tell me everything.”
“Ugh,” I said. “Ian, there really isn’t much to tell. I saw him. Logan. I ran away. He found me. We talked. He ran away. The end.”
“That is so not the end,” Ian criticized. “You saw him. Logan. For the first time in years and that’s all you have to say about it. Please.”
“Don’t push this, okay?” I begged.
“Piper, I only do this because I love you,” Ian reminded me.
“I know you do, but…”
“And because I love you,” he interrupted. “It is my job to help you deal with these things. I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me about it.”
“What makes you think I need help dealing with it?” I demanded.
“Honey, we both know you can’t be trusted to do this on your own.”
“Okay,” I said. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Well,” I began, moving a step forward in line. “He came to my uncle’s wake. He just walked right in wearing a black suit and…”
“How did he look?” Ian asked.
“Handsome,” I said. Even I knew that was an understatement. “Amazing, actually.”
“Swoon,” Ian cooed. “Continue.”
“He walked in. We made eye contact and I bolted. I just ran out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t stop running until I made it two streets over.”
“Why?” Ian asked. His tone suggested I was certifiably insane.
“Because I’m chicken shit. I couldn’t face him,” I explained. “Not after everything.”