2. Logan
2
LOGAN
I pace back and forth in my penthouse, phone pressed to my ear as I rant to my best friend, Brant. The view of the city skyline usually calms me, but today, nothing seems to help.
“Can you believe it, Brant? This shop is a total eyesore. Whimsical doesn’t even begin to describe it. It’s like stepping into a candy-coated nightmare. Like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory comes to life. I’m constantly looking for Oompa Loompas!” I can hear him chuckling on the other end, and it only fuels my frustration. “And the owner! Don’t even get me started. Not only did she ruin my suit, but she’s ridiculous and rude.”
“Rude, huh?” he asks in amusement. “Are you sure she’s the rude one, or is she just reacting to your crudeness?”
I stop pacing and stare out the window, frowning. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” he says, “You’re kind of an asshole right now. You don’t switch off from the mindset of a C-suite executive and back to being a human being anymore. How many times have I had to bring you back in check? I can’t imagine how intimidating you are to women.”
I let out a laugh, but it’s more hollow than genuine. “What? That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? Tell me how she ruined your suit.”
“I was leaving the office. I had to hurry to get to a meeting. She spilled her coffee and oatmeal all over me and then made it worse by trying to clean it up.”
“So she just dumped it on you? Threw it at you as you were walking by?”
“Okay, so I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and bumped into her. Who tries to clean an Armani suit with their hands?”
“Someone who doesn’t own an Armani suit,” he chuckles. “She was probably embarrassed and didn’t know what else to do.”
I stand there, thinking through his logic for a second. Maybe she didn’t realize she was only making things worse. Her clothing wasn’t particularly high-end.
Well, what a shitty thing to think.
Since when do I care about how much someone’s clothing costs?
“ Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve forgotten how to be human. I’ve been so stuck in CEO mode. I know I’m consumed—trying to build my own name apart from my family. Everything else has taken a backseat.”
“Logan, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe once in a while. When that happens, you hyper-focus on one thing until it eats at you. This candy shop thing, why is it such a big deal to you?”
“It’s not just the shop,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s everything. I’m using the money I’ve made in my business to buy up properties. This block is my next investment. I’m trying to transform it into a premier destination to rival any of my family’s endeavors. Picture a tall building with executive studio apartments, office space, and an upscale restaurant. Then picture that idiotic shop that clashes with the image.”
“And you think harassing the owner into changing it is the way to go?”
“I wasn’t bullying,” I protest, but even to my ears, it sounds weak. “I was… asserting my authority.”
“Bro, you’re a great businessman, but sometimes you need to remember that not everything can be controlled like a boardroom. People have feelings. That shop owner, for example. She’s just trying to run her business. Maybe there’s a way to work with her instead of against her.”
I slump into a chair. “I just don’t know how to switch off.
“Try seeing things from her perspective. Maybe her shop has more value than you realize. And for God’s sake, apologize for the suit thing. You can’t start a business relationship by being a jerk.”
“I don’t want a business relationship with her. How would that help me?”
“Don’t be so certain. You can probably learn a lot from her.”
I can’t, but I’ll appease him.
“ What would I learn from a small business owner that I don’t already know?”
“Hah. Humility, for a start. Everyone has something they can teach you.”
You’re right.” I grumble. “I guess I need to figure out how to approach this differently.”
“There’s the Logan I know,” Brant says. “You’ve got this. Just remember to breathe and maybe let the CEO take a backseat for a bit.”
“It’s just…”
She was absolutely breathtaking, and I was so taken aback by that. And the electric current that rushed through me when we touched—I didn’t know how to react.
I’ve never felt that way around any woman.
Most of them fall to their knees in front of me and become robots. It’s not because I’m a catch, either. It’s all because they want to use me for my money—or, more specifically—my family name. But she just seems to despise me.
“What is it about this woman that has you in such an uproar?”
“Nothing,” I snap.
“Okay,” he chuckles. “I may have to take a trip to Sweet Treats to see what all the fuss is about.”
“It’s not the woman. It’s everything about that store. It’s childish, and…it sticks out like a sore thumb. If I want people to take us seriously, I can’t be attached to something that looks like a bunch of cartoon characters threw up downstairs.”
“Ever the dramatic visualist,” he jokes. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I’m looking it up right now, and it has rave reviews.”
“She can still have rave reviews and look professional. She was literally dressed in bibbed overalls when I went into the store today. She looked like…”
“Who are you?” he asks drily. “Seriously, you’re turning into your brother.”
“I am nothing like him.”
“The hell you aren’t. You’re being just as much of a judgmental asshole as he is. Listen, bro, I’m so damn proud of you for breaking off from your family and building your tech company from the ground up without their name backing you, but…you’ve forgotten all of your values very quickly.”
I almost growl in frustration. I close my eyes and focus on breathing.
How dare he?
He’s my best friend and knows me better than anyone. He should know that I’m nothing like my family.
The Morelli name is just as famous as the Hilton name when it comes to luxury hotels and destination resorts. My father and uncle built an empire on their own.
I wanted something different, something that was mine. I’ve done that, and pivoted to build an empire in the tech world.
How am I supposed to do that with people who don’t know how to dress for success?
Dammit. Brant’s right. I sound like my brother.
“Damn it, you’re right again.”
“I usually am. I get paid to be right, remember?” he laughs. “I’m only the best lawyer in the city, and it’s not because of my devilish good looks either.”
“You’re so modest,” I laugh. “I’m glad you don’t hold back and call me out on my bullshit.”
“It’s what I’m here for. You’d do the same for me.”
“Damn straight.”
“Maybe try going back to Sweet Treats tomorrow and offering an olive branch or something.”
“How did you know the name of it, anyway?”
“They have the best fudge in the city there. Also, my sister only wanted the jelly beans from Serena when she was pregnant. Drake would always beg me to pick them up for her.”
“You’re on a first-name basis with this woman and you failed to mention it until now?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She’s hot and single.”
“So are half the women in town. I’m not interested. You can have her.”
“You should go back and make peace with her.”
“Whatever. I have a packed day tomorrow.”
“If you want to be Mister Bigshot CEO, then you need to be humble and admit when you’re wrong. You can’t be a great leader if you’re shitting on people and treating them like dirt.”
He’s right, but I’m not saying those words out loud again.
“Fine,” I sigh. “Charley’s tomorrow night?”
“Of course,” Brant laughs. “I’ll see you then.”
We hang up, and I drop the phone on my couch and continue pacing, staring out at the sunset and the skyline again.
Why does Brant always have to be right?
That woman was beautiful, but I didn’t even get her name.
Yet my best friend knows it?
Should I have asked if he ever slept with her?
The notion makes my fists clench.
Women are usually all up in my grill. She didn’t care who I was. She went right back at me and didn’t seem intimidated in the least.
That’s sexy as Hell.
The next morning, I find myself standing in front of Sweet Treats, holding a coffee from the café down the street. I had spent the entire night thinking about what Brant said, and I decided to give this peace offering thing a try. The coffee is the same kind the woman, Serena, spilled on me. Well, it’s a guess from the stains and smell of my suit, a sort of peace offering, if you will.
The bell above the door jingles as I step inside, and the sweet, sugary scent of the shop hits me at once. It’s almost overwhelming. I search the store, taking in the colorful displays and jars of candies. Everything is vibrant and quirky, a stark contrast to the sleek, sterile environments I’m used to.
It’s like someone was stoned out of their mind when they designed this.
I can’t believe she has any customers.
Then I see her. She is behind the counter, rearranging some jars. Her hair is a riot of dark curls, with streaks of pink and purple throughout it, all piled into two messy pigtail buns on top of her head, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. She’s wearing a simple bright pink dress with a candy-themed apron, and there’s a smudge of powdered sugar on her cheek. I didn’t notice it before, but there are colorful tattoos on both arms.
There’s something undeniably attractive about her, a mixture of confidence and warmth that draws me in.
Her eyes lock onto mine as I approach, and I see her stiffen in defense.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice sharp. “Are you about to tell me that I’m not allowed to breathe the same air as you?”
I hold up the coffee. “I brought you this. As a peace offering.”
She crosses her arms, looking skeptical. “No thanks. I don’t take bribes.”
“It’s not a bribe. It’s an olive branch.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” she snaps as she turns back around. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to ask you to leave. Your energy is so dark that it’s polluting my shop. I don’t want my customers to be greeted by a black wall when they walk in. Have the day you deserve, sir!”
Energy?
What in the hell?
Did she just dismiss me?
“Your customers probably have to do a double-take when they walk in to make sure they didn’t walk back into preschool.”
Okay, that was lame.
Why am I being such an ass to her?
I draw in a long breath. “I’m sorry. It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m going to set this down here and…” I set the coffee down on the counter.
She whips around, grabs the counter to keep her balance, and slams her hand against the cup of coffee, sending it splashing all over me. Again.
I groan inwardly.
Should I start wearing a rain slicker when I’m around her?
If she’d organized this place better, she wouldn’t have tripped over an open jar of gummy bears.
My eyes flit up to hers and I see how embarrassed and nervous she is. Ten, nine, eight—I count before speaking.
She’s not an intern. She’s not an employee. She’s a human being who made a mistake.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
She bites her bottom lip and glances down at the ground. For whatever reason, I find it extremely sexy, and I feel my pants tighten.
“It’s okay, accidents happen. Maybe you shouldn’t store jars on the ground, though,” I chuckle awkwardly as I peek at the other side of the counter.
She blushes, and her eyes flash at me. “Thanks for the input. You can send me the dry-cleaning bill—again.”
She reaches under the counter, grabs some napkins, and pushes them toward me.
“These aren’t going to do anything,” I laugh as I push them back.
“Pardon me, kind sir, for not knowing better,” she says sarcastically while holding a hand over her heart.
Her tone rubs me wrong.
“I see that a peace offering is pointless when dealing with a child.”
“The only child here is you. Maybe that’s why you think this place looks like pre-school. It’s where you belong. You’re rude, judgmental, and an elitist snob. Do not come into my store and insult me. You can leave. I don’t care if you own the damn building, I’ll have you removed.”
I smirk and shake my head. “Child? I’ll have you know…”
She steps out from behind the counter and gets up in my face.
“I will say it slower for you. I will not allow you to walk in here and insult me in my own shop. I will call the police right now and have you removed.”
“You’re cute. The police won’t arrest me.”
She reaches for her phone and starts dialing.
The last thing I need is for the cops to show up, and this becomes a public spectacle.
What on Earth are you doing right now anyway, Logan? You’re being ridiculous and stubborn.
“This has gotten out of hand,” I sigh as I step back. “I apologize for that, and my rudeness. Sometimes, I forget that not everyone is an employee, or used to my attitude.”
“I feel sorry for your employees.”
“I’m trying to be nice. Can you try to stop being snarky?”
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“I match the energy. Your mouth is apologizing, but your energy says something else, and it doesn’t lie.”
Again with that “energy” crap. What is she talking about?
“Are you going to start throwing crystals at me or something?”
She rolls her eyes again.
Why is that so damn sexy?
“I wouldn’t waste the energy,” she sighs. “Are we done here?”
“Since you threw my coffee back in my face, I guess so,” I shrug as I turn around. “Next time, I’ll make sure to wear something less expensive.”
“There will be no next time. You’re not welcome here.”
“You can’t ban me from being here. What if I want to buy something?”
“I don’t want your money. And I can ban you from being here.”
I turn around and start to walk out of the store, when something catches my eye, and a smell hits me.
Vanilla, chocolate, peanut butter. Peanut butter fudge. I can almost hear my grandmother’s laughter wrapping around me as I stare back at the display case.
Tears prick my eyes .
I haven’t thought about my grandma or the summers we spent together in the kitchen since she died three years ago.
Granny would be so disgusted with me right now. My behavior is uncalled for, especially to a woman who’s done nothing wrong.
I let out a sigh, drop my head, close my eyes, and try to get out of the CEO mindset. I turn back around.
“Listen, I apologize for my behavior. I admit I had a chip on my shoulder when I walked in here, and it wasn’t necessary. Can we start over?”
“I’m not going to be bullied into changing my store just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
I sigh, feeling my frustration bubble up again. “I’m not trying to bully you. I just want to talk.”
“Talk? About how you think my shop is an eyesore?”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. “Look, I get it. You’re proud of this place. But it sticks out compared to the other businesses on the block. There has to be a way to make some changes without losing its charm.”
She steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “Why should I have to change anything? This shop has been here for years. People love it the way it is.”
I can feel the tension crackling between us, a mix of anger and something else. “Because things change. And if you want to keep your lease, you’re going to have to adapt.”
Her jaw tightens, and she steps even closer, so close that I can smell the faint scent of vanilla on her. “You don’t get to come in here and dictate terms to me. I built this shop from the ground up, and I’m not going to let you ruin it.”
“I’m not trying to ruin it,” I snap back, feeling my control slip. “I’m trying to make sure it survives.”
“For who? For you?”
“No, for everyone!” I shout, my frustration boiling over. “For the community, for the other businesses, and yes, for you too. This shop can be something amazing, something even better.”
She glares at me. “It already is amazing. Maybe you’re the one who needs to open your eyes and see it.”
We’re standing inches apart now, the air between us charged. Her lips are parted, and I can feel her soft breaths. Her eyes drop to my lips for the briefest second.
“I think you should leave,” she says, but she doesn’t move.
“I think I should, too,” I reply, but I don’t budge.
I don’t want to break the spell between us. All I can focus on is her soft red lips.
I bet she’s an amazing kisser.
There’s something about her passion, her fire, that intrigues me. There’s something about her eyes that pulls me in. And I surrender to it.
I lean forward and cover her mouth with mine. My hands go to her hips, pulling her flush against me. Her arms hesitate for half a second and then wrap around my neck as she molds herself against me.
Every one of my nerves stands at attention. Okay, every part of my body stands at attention. When her lips part and her tongue gently plays with mine, I growl into her mouth.
The bell above the door jingles, and she yanks away from me, her hand whipping out to smack my face.
That was unexpected.