Chapter Twenty-Three
Logan held the door open, and Courtney climbed out, grabbing her purse from the floor of his Lexus. She was wearing a black mini-dress with billowing sleeves and a velvet collar that she and Logan had gone out to buy this morning. She hadn’t brought anything dressy to wear, and upon hearing that they’d be eating out at his latest restaurant tonight, she’d panicked.
She felt better now, though. The dark fabric skimmed her body, revealing only a hint of the swell that was getting harder to disguise. Her hair was down, gleaming curls tumbling over her shoulders. While Logan had worked on a few things in his home office, she’d spent some time applying the make-up she only wore occasionally, and she liked the result.
Tonight, she felt almost like she belonged in a city like Boston.
“You ready?” Logan asked, his eyes roaming her appreciatively. Like her, he was dressed up, but unlike her it wasn’t unusual. She’d never met anybody who rocked dress pants and a shirt like Logan Hartson.
His latest restaurant was a converted warehouse in the seaport district. On The Water overlooked the harbor, with views of the stunning Museum of Contemporary Art. Logan had already told her how long it had taken to convert, along with all the hoops they’d had to go through to get it ready to open. She looked at it with wide eyes, taking in the floor-to-ceiling wall of glass that allowed diners to enjoy the view while they ate upmarket American cuisine. Seafood and steak, is what Logan had described it as, but she knew there was so much more to it than that.
“It’s beautiful,” she told him, turning her head to smile at him. “You must be so excited it’s nearly ready.”
He grinned. “It’s been a long time coming. And we’re fully booked every weekend for the first two months.” He put his hand on the carved metallic handle affixed to the smokey glass door. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
The interior was just as elegant as the outside. Soft lighting illuminated the designer chairs with their low curved backs and buttery-soft cream leather upholstery. The wooden tables were so dark that they almost looked black. Every detail was perfect, from the one-off design of the silverware, to the mock-pony skin covered menus that were propped up on the tables.
“Wow.” Her smile widened as she caught Logan’s eyes.
“You like?”
“I love.”
He grinned. “Come on, let’s go and meet everybody.”
Courtney took a deep breath, trying to ready herself to meet Logan’s business partner and friends. He’d told her about them on the way here. Paris Northman, the main investor and his partner, Ryan Nolan, the head chef, not to mention all the other people he’d met over the years that he’d been involved with the Boston restaurant industry.
For some strange reason, she felt even more nervous than she had meeting his family. At least they’d shared some common background, living in Hartson’s Creek. But here she felt like a fish out of water.
“Logan! You’re here.” A tall, glamorous woman with gleaming dark hair walked toward them. She was wearing the highest heels Courtney had ever seen, but they had no effect on her confident gait. Her dress was molded to her perfect curves. Courtney swallowed hard as the beauty leaned forward to press her ruby red lips against Logan’s cheek. “Ryan’s been asking for you. He has a few questions about tonight. Can you go see him in the kitchen?”
Logan smiled at her. “Sure.” He glanced at Courtney. “Will you be okay here for a minute?”
“Of course she will.” The glamorous woman turned her beaming smile on Courtney. “I’m Paris. You’re Courtney, right? Come with me, I’ll introduce you to everybody.”
She seemed nice. And stunning, too. “Sure,” Courtney nodded. “Let’s go.”
Paris lead the way toward the large table in the center of the restaurant. Ten people were already seated, large crystal glasses of red wine in their hands, their voices loud as they chatted to each other.
“Everybody,” Paris called out. The chattering quieted as they all turned to look at her. “This is Courtney. Logan’s friend.” She frowned. “Is friend right? I have no idea what to call someone who’s not really in a relationship but having a baby.”
“Baby momma,” somebody called out.
“Friend with benefits,” another shouted.
“Let’s stick with friend.” Paris smiled at Courtney again. “And by the way, she has the most amazing accent. Remember how Logan sounded when he first came here?”
“Ah, we rubbed that off him very quickly,” a woman, almost as stunning as Paris, said. “I’m Jorga.” She held her hand out to Courtney. “I used to work for Logan and Paris, but now I own my own place in Back Bay.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Courtney shook her hand firmly.
“Ooh, you’re strong.” Jorga grinned.
“That’s because she works on a farm,” Paris said, pointing at the empty chair next to Jorga. “You sit there, and I’ll be next to you. All girls together.”
“Sure.” Courtney nodded, taking the seat that Paris was pointing at.
“So, you work on a farm?” Jorga asked, her eyes wide. “Like with pigs and animals and stuff?” She sniffed, as though trying to see if Courtney smelled of farm animals.