18. Logan
Chapter Eighteen
LOGAN
I throw myself into work and by the time the day is finished, we’re almost ready to open to the public. All my mechanics are ready to be scheduled, and I glare down at Paul’s availability sheet.
Maybe he’s not the guy who knocked her up, but I know he likes her. He was hitting on her at Bennigan’s, and he was flirting with her today, too.
But unfortunately, Meredith is right. I can’t fire him just because he flirts with my ex-girlfriend. Even though I want to. Actually, part of me wants to kill him.
I’m glad this didn’t happen back when we were younger, because I probably would have hunted down whoever impregnated her and kill him. Hell, maybe I still will.
When she tells Grayson, he’ll hound her for a name.
I have a brief fantasy of Grayson and me hunting down the guy who knocked up Meredith, but in the end, I know nothing will come of that.
I can’t kill him just because he slept with the woman I love.
Murder is frowned upon, unfortunately, even if I find it justified.
By the time I open my office door, everyone has gone home, and the lights are out. The only person still there is Bryce, sitting at his desk in the dark.
I walk over to him sheepishly. “Bryce?"
“Are you going to throw something at me again?”
I groan. “No. I’m really sorry, Bryce. I know I’ve been in a foul mood.”
“That’s the understatement of the century. That paperweight could have done some damage, you know?” He huffs out a breath, but I can tell he’s going to forgive me.
Bryce has been there since the early days of my business, has been there since when I couldn’t afford to pay him, and I consider him a close friend.
I plop down in a chair next to him, and he glances over at me, eyes narrowed.
“This is about Meredith, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?”
He rolls his eyes. “Sorry, stupid question.”
I smile, feeling better for the first time in days. “Listen, Bryce, how are you at being a wingman?”
“I'm an amazing wingman.”
“Then let's go out,” I say determinedly. Maybe it’s time to finally be with someone else. Hell, she certainly had.
“You want me to find you someone to sleep with?”
“I need to get this woman out of my system.” I stand up. “Are you with me, Bryce?”
He sighs. “I feel like this ends with you getting wasted and me carrying you home.”
I snort. “Maybe, I’m not going to lie to you.”
“Okay.” He stands, too. “I guess I’ll go if it’ll keep you from throwing heavy objects at me tomorrow.”
“Take me somewhere I’ve never been.” I don’t want him to suggest Bennigan’s. Too many memories there.
“I’ll take you to the hottest club in town.”
When we arrive at the place, called Jingles, of all things, we’re able to skip the line.
Bryce takes my hand, “He’s with me.”
I let him drag me inside.
He drops my hand right away, and we head to the bar.
I order the same thing I always do, a double whiskey, neat. It’s not even like I enjoy the taste of it, I don’t. I’ve tried all kinds of expensive liquor since I became a billionaire, but I like the house whiskey’s burn the best.
It’s like Meredith always said—no one likes the taste of alcohol, it’s just the effects. And it’s the effects I want tonight.
I need to be loose, able to flirt, to try not to think about Meredith writhing under someone else.
Three doubles later, the room is spinning, and a redhead is on my arm. I vaguely remember her trying to kiss me and me turning away.
The next thing I know, Bryce has my arm around his shoulder, and we’re careening down the street. “I knew this was going to happen.”
“You’re a good friend, Bryce,” I manage in a slur, and he drags me to the elevator, shoving me inside.
“You can make it from here. Call me if you don't choke on your own vomit.”
“You have such a way with words.” I hang on to the elevator’s railing as the doors close.
I hum a song as I hold onto the wall, heading to my hotel room, a song that Meredith and I used to dance to at Bennigan’s.
I don’t even remember getting inside the room, but soon enough, I’m lying on the bed, half-dressed, with my phone in my hand and Meredith’s contact pulled up.
The room spins and the contact on my phone doubles even as I squint at it.
“Don’t call her,” I say out loud, but my thumb is already pressing the call button.
It rings four times before she answers.
“Logan?” Her voice is hoarse from sleep, and I belatedly realize it’s almost two in the morning.
“Meredith,” I breathe, and I’m not even sure what I’m going to say until I say it. “Come over. I need you.”
“What are you talking about?” There’s a hint of a laugh in her voice. “You sound drunk as hell.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “Can’t stop thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“You.”
“Logan...”
My heart aches despite all the liquor flowing through me.
“I can’t stand it.” I hold the phone close to my face. “Knowing someone else has touched you.”
She huffs out a breath. “What was I supposed to do, Logan? Wait for you forever?”
Yes. I waited for you.
“Give me his name,” I demand, and Meredith groans loudly on the other line.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I can’t.”
“Logan, I... I don’t want to give you a name. I’m afraid you’ll do something stupid.”
“I won’t.” It’s a lie, as soon as I know the sonofabitch’s name, I’ll hunt him down, use all my resources to find him.
“I don’t believe you. Sleep it off, Logan.”
She hangs up the phone, and I drop it on the bed, huffing out a frustrated breath.
I pass out before I know what’s happening.
The sun wakes me up and pain rockets through my head as I sit up.
“Oh, shit.” I sit up on the edge of the bed while the room spins.
Maybe I’m still drunk. It’s stupid, drinking so much, calling her, but I can’t seem to help myself. I’m losing my fucking mind, thinking about who it might be, if she’s still seeing him.
What if he was there last night when I called? What if that was why she was so short with me? She had to get back to him.
My stomach rolls, and I barely make it to the bathroom before throwing up whiskey and regret.
When I finally empty my stomach, I return to the bedroom to see that Grayson has called me. I let out a shaky breath.
Great . Just another reminder of why I can never have Meredith Whitlock, as much as I love her.
I can’t be with her. I can’t be without her.
It’s my own personal hell.
* * *
I shower twice and feel like whiskey is still coming out of my pores, but it’s the best I can do. Grayson wants to meet at a nearby coffee shop to discuss his marketing campaign.
When I arrive, he’s already sitting at a table.
His eyes widen when he sees me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, sitting across from him and sucking down the water that’s in a glass in front of me. I’m so thirsty my lips are sticking together. “I’m hungover.”
“That much I gathered. You never were much of a drinker. What’s going on with you, Logan?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just work stress. We’re opening to the public soon, and I’m not sure we’ve gotten the word out.”
Grayson grins. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to film a commercial.”
I blink. “Like, for television? Isn’t that a little much?”
“Not if you want to turn a profit this year.” Grayson looks at me coolly. “Are you sure you’re up for this today? We can meet some other time.”
“No, I’m fine.” I have to be fine. I need to keep my mind off whoever put a baby in Meredith. Rage rips through me just thinking about it, and I clear my throat. “I need to work.”
Grayson raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push, thank God. It’s not like I can spill to him that I’m going crazy over his baby sister.
“You’re going to be the new face of the garage,” he said.
I groan. “Why me?”
“Because you’re good looking, charismatic, all those things that make people want to buy things.”
“I don't know about that.”
“I do. I do this for a living, remember? Built it from the ground up.”
With daddy’s trust fund .
I hate myself for thinking it. I guess I do still harbor some resentment toward Grayson for having it easier than I did.
It’s not like it’s his fault, and I focus on him, forcing myself to smile.
“All right. We’ll do it. When do we start?”
Grayson perks up. “As soon as you can. Is the office ready enough for filming?”
I nod. “It should be, by now. The contractors have been taking their sweet time with the renovations.”
Grayson nods. “Let’s schedule it for tomorrow, then. Call in your most attractive employees, we need background people.”
I bark out a laugh. “Only the attractive ones, huh?”
He shrugs. “Can’t have ugly people in a commercial.”
I keep laughing, and then finally order myself a latte, sucking it down, the caffeine making me feel more human.
I send out a company email inviting most of the office sans some of the mechanics to come in to work tomorrow and dress their best.
This should be interesting.