Never again.
“Yeah,” I finally say, offering her a small smile. “I can’t believe I let myself become that person.”
Stacy covers my hand with hers. “You’re a dreamer, Logan. You want to fall in love and live happily ever after. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Pfft. I’ve come to realize that finding that one person is rare. So rare in fact, I’m not sure I still believe there is one person for everyone.” Daniel has officially scarred me, and my beliefs of the heart.
“That’s a shame. Look at your parents, look at my parents. It’s real. The complication is finding that person, and when you do, risking your heart to let them in. Taking the jump and hoping they fall with you.”
“I don’t see myself jumping anytime soon,” I tell her. She doesn’t respond and, eventually, we both really do fall asleep. Michael kept me up late, but you will never hear me complain about it. How can I complain about Mr. Tall, Tatted, and Toned giving me the best sex, the best night of my life? That’s my last thought as I drift off to sleep.
All too soon, Stacy is tapping my arm to wake me up. I was dreaming about him, about Michael and our night together.
We quickly grab our luggage and drag it to my car, which we left in the airport parking lot. My beat-up old Sentra is still kicking. Sadly, she doesn’t look like much, but she’s never let me down.
“Hawaii was beautiful, but I’m glad to be home,” Stacy says as we head toward our apartment.
Michael hovering above me last night flashes through my mind. “Yeah,” I say wistfully.
This causes Stacy to laugh. “Suck it up, buttercup. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”
I roll my eyes and continue to drive us home. We’re quiet the remainder of the drive. We’re both starting new jobs and moving on to the next phase of our life. I always thought it would be Daniel by my side, but I couldn’t be happier that it’s Stacy, my best friend. I know that no matter what, she will always be there. For now, that’s all I need.
“Home at last,” Stacy says as soon as we are inside our apartment. We drop our bags by the door and head for the couch. Stacy starts sifting through the mail and hands me half the pile. My eyes immediately latch on to the large white envelope bearing the Stone Records’ logo. Giddy excitement runs through me. I’m excited about this job. I carefully tear open the envelope and pull out its contents.
The front page is a ‘welcome to the team’ letter. The letter provides me with the address of where I’m expected to report tomorrow and informs me I’m to meet a Mr. Jones. Included in the packet is all my new hire paperwork. The final piece is my working contract. It outlines my salary as well as duties. I was hired as an assistant, but by reading the document, it appears I will be a personal assistant to a Mr. Warren. I will be responsible for managing his schedule, as well as the staff at his homes. Homes? Holy shit, who is this guy? Must be some bigwig with the label. As I continue reading, I realize I’m supposed to basically assist this Mr. Warren with all aspects of his life. Including miscellaneous duties as assigned. To most, reading the contract alone could potentially scare them from the job. Not me, I welcome the challenge. Welcome the distraction of being able to throw myself into my work. I’ve always been an overachiever. When I called my parents to tell them about my new job, my mother even commented that this would be the perfect position for me.
I got this!
“That’s a big smile,” Stacy comments.
My grin gets bigger. “Yeah. I’m really excited about this.” I wave the packet of paper in my hands.
“I’m happy for you, Logan.”
“Thank you. I’m going to go pick out my clothes for tomorrow and complete this mountain of paperwork.” I stand to head toward my room.
“Logan.” I turn to face her. “I’m here, you know, if you need to talk,” she says gently.
I offer her a smile. “Thanks, Stace.”
“He didn’t . . . he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
The question throws me off guard. “What? No, of course not.”
Her shoulders sag with relief. “It’s just that you’ve been quiet, and I was worried.”
Taking a deep breath, I let her words sink in. She’s right. Any other time, I would be chatting it up with her nonstop. But something about what I shared with Michael has me being selfish, wanting the memory just for me.
“He didn’t hurt me. If anything, he ruined me for all other men.” I wink at her and turn back around and head for my room. That is as much as I’m going to give her right now, and from the smile on her face, it’s enough to calm her fears, but not enough to keep her from badgering me with questions later.
[ Image: image2.jpeg ]
Today’s the day, the first day of my new job. I dress in a gray pencil skirt with a white flowing top. I step into my black heels and my look is complete. Stacy left already for her first day as well. I don’t have to report until ten. If that’s how this job continues, things are going to be just fine. I grab my purse, check that I have my phone and the packet of paperwork that took me hours to complete, and I’m on my way.
I pull up the GPS on my phone and type in the address. It’s not one located in downtown, so I have no idea where I’m going. As I drive, I get further away from the city limits. I start to worry when the GPS says that in one mile I will have reached my destination. Well, all right then. I know the address I entered is correct, I triple checked it, so I continue to drive.
When my GPS tells me I have reached my destination, I pull into the gated drive. I stop at the speaker and hit the buzzer.
“Yes,” a voice comes over the speaker.
“Hi, I’m Logan Andrews. I’m here to meet with Mr. Jones,” I speak to the box.
There is no reply, but the gate clicks opens. I drive past the wrought-iron panels up the long paved driveway. I reach a house, well not just a house, a freaking mansion in the woods. Parking my car, I take a deep breath, gather my belongings, and make my way to the front door.
Just as I reach the top step, the door swings open. “Logan Andrews,” the girl says.
“Yes,” I say politely.
She thrusts her hand out toward me. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cassidy, Mr. Jones’ personal assistant. He’s expecting you.”
I follow her into the house and down a long hallway. She leads us into a large sitting room. In the room, there are four guys. One, who I assume is Mr. Jones, is dressed in a suit, and three others are drop-dead gorgeous. All three of them are covered in tattoos and are completely lickable. My mind wanders to Michael and how I traced his ink with my tongue. I’ve since added getting a tattoo to my list of “things to do.” Daniel never would have approved.
“Mr. Jones, Logan Andrews is here to see you,” Cassidy introduces me. I can feel their eyes on me.
Mr. Jones stands from his seat and walks toward me. “You’re Logan?” he asks as if he’s appalled.
“Yes, sir,” I say, keeping my voice strong.
“Holy shit! He’s going to kill you,” one of the guys says.
I keep my attention on Mr. Jones. He’s rubbing his temple as if the thought of me being female stresses him out. “Is there an issue, sir?” I boldly ask him.