Chapter 7 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
Logan Richards was on the brink of meeting his new girlfriend. Unfortunately, in the meantime, he was seriously testing my patience.
The practice date last night had been a disaster. Clearly, he enjoyed pushing my buttons with Olympic precision. And now? He was sprawled in a chair across from me in the private meeting room Sarah had let me borrow at Inkwell Cafe, scrolling through his phone like a teenager bored in study hall.
“So,” I said, arms crossed and tone sharp, “have you done your homework? Have you watched The Sweet Spot yet? You know, the show that made Sophie Hartwell a household name?”
He looked up slowly, like he’d just woken from a nap, smirk firmly in place. “Sophie who?”
I blinked. “Sophie Hartwell, the woman who will be walking through that door in two minutes. The woman you’re about to pretend is the love of your life for the next three months.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Are you sure that’s a real name? Sounds made-up.”
I leaned in. “Yes, Logan. Maybe you should tattoo her name on your hand so you don’t forget it in interviews.”
Before he could respond, the door swung open.
Sarah strolled in, humming, a plate of fresh cookies in her hands.
“I thought you all might want something sweet,” she said, setting it between us.
“These are brown butter-sea salt with just a hint of espresso.” Then, with a nod, she quietly slipped out, letting the door click shut behind her.
Logan didn’t even look up. He simply pushed the plate an inch closer to me.
I inhaled sharply through my nose. This meeting was where we’d finalize everything. We’d define boundaries, draft a timeline, and ensure both parties were on the same page.
Sophie wasn’t big enough to have a whole entourage flying out with her to New Orleans. Not yet, at least. So, it would just be Logan, Sophie, and me at the meeting.
And if Logan could follow directions for once in his life, we might pull this off.
His eyes were back on his phone, ignoring me. I pressed my hands flat against my lap to keep from tapping my nails against the table. Polite. Professional. Poised. That was the job. That was what I had spent years perfecting.
New Orleans Elizabeth had been all sweetness and light, full of Southern charm and easy smiles. New York Elizabeth? She had razor-sharp edges and didn’t waste time being nice.
The problem? I was still both.
And right now, New York Elizabeth wanted to snatch that phone out of his hand and throw it across the room.
Luckily, before I did, the door swung open, and Sophie Hartwell swept in like she’d been bathed in golden-hour lighting.
“Sorry I’m late! I had to dodge a few paparazzi,” she said, flipping her honey-blonde hair over her shoulder, and giggling as if she had said something hilarious. I could already tell that she was one of those women who laughed at everything.
She was all warmth, all effortless charm. She floated to the table, beaming at Logan first, then me, like she’d walked into a party instead of a PR crisis summit.
Logan sat up a little straighter. Just barely. If I hadn’t been watching him like a hawk, I wouldn’t have noticed it.
Sophie slipped into the seat next to him, her smile luminous. “I hear we’re going to be madly in love.”
Logan let out a short laugh, his tension from before vanishing instantly. “So they say.”
I cleared my throat, adjusting the sleeve of my blazer. “Right. Let’s get down to it. Sophie, as the wholesome balance to Logan’s… well, Logan, you’ll help rebuild his public image, smooth over the drama, and get him back on track.”
Sophie nodded eagerly, giggling again. I was pretty sure I would hear that sound frequently over the next few months. Turning to Logan, she leaned in, head tilted, eyes bright. “I love it. Sounds amazing.” Just her tone alone made it feel like everything was already perfect.
I studied her, watching the way she tilted her chin.
She was perfect. Too perfect. I should have been relieved that she was all in. Instead, my stomach twisted for some unknown reason.
Logan was leaning into it. Oh, he was still irritated by the whole concept, but now he was paying attention. Now he was playing along.
The chemistry between them was apparent. Easy.
That’s what he needed. Someone like Sophie who could handle his chaos, someone who lived in his world, someone who craved the spotlight.
If this didn’t save his career, nothing would.