Chapter Seventeen
Jess
“Hey, I made oatmeal,” I say, sliding a bowl toward Logan when he comes out dressed for work.
With a muttered “Thanks,” he grabs it and sits down beside the boys, who are busy munching on their bread slices.
I huff quietly.
Guess we’re back to not talking.
Tired of the hot-and-cold routine, I slam the coffee pot back into place a little harder than necessary and take a deep breath.
When I turn around, all three of them are staring at me.
I immediately soften.
“Sorry,” I say to the boys with a small smile.
Then I look at Logan. “You can head to work. I’ll take the boys.”
He glances down at the two little faces peering up at him.
“Actually,” he says slowly, “I got a new client. I was thinking maybe after we drop the boys off, we could swing by their place and sign the contract.”
My brows lift. “That’s where you went yesterday?”
He nods. “Didn’t Arnon tell you?”
“No,” I say flatly. “Must’ve slipped his mind.”
“Oh.” Logan looks genuinely confused. “Sorry. Anyway, I gave her my card and she called this morning. Asked if we could expedite everything since they’re without security right now.”
I let out a quiet sigh of frustration, hating that he agreed without discussing it with me first.
“It’s a good thing we have interviews today,” I say instead, swallowing the rest of my feelings.
Then I glance at the boys, who have stopped eating and are watching us like we’re their favorite cartoon.
I lean down and smooth River’s hair back from his forehead.
“Finish your breakfast, please,” I tell them gently.
Logan and I share a look over their heads. We’re not as subtle as we think we are.
To make up for our parental tension, we definitely overcompensate.
In the car, Logan turns on Baby Shark, and we both start dramatically singing along.
The boys are way past the baby stage. But desperate times.
Myles and River giggle uncontrollably, trying to keep up with the singing before dissolving into hysterics.
We even stop by Dunkin’ and get them donuts.
By the time we pull into their school, they’re hyper and bouncing in their seats.
“Okay, okay, inside voices,” I say, trying not to laugh as River practically sprints toward the entrance.
It feels almost… normal.
Like we’re a team again.
But as soon as we step into the classroom, Myles locks eyes with his new teacher and screams her name at full volume.
She looks terrified.
Like she’s reconsidering her entire career choice.
Logan and I exchange a quick glance.
And then, like a drive-by, we wave, kiss foreheads, and retreat.
Fast.
Logan practically peels out of the parking lot before the teacher can flag us down.
The laughter fades as we pull onto the main road.
And just like that… It’s quiet again.
Just the two of us.
I last about thirty seconds before I can’t take the silence anymore.
“So,” I say, pulling up a blank contact card on my tablet. “What’s her name?”
“Hayao,” Logan answers.
“Last name?”
He rubs the back of his head. “I… didn’t ask.”
I look at him. Logan is usually meticulous. Annoyingly thorough.
“You didn’t ask?” I repeat.
He shrugs slightly, eyes on the road.
“How’d you meet her?” I ask.
“What?” he says too quickly.
“I asked how you met the client,” I clarify slowly.
For a second, just a second, he looks guilty. What the hell!
“Oh,” he says. “Arnon heard they were looking for new security. It’s a club. A nightclub.”
“Nice.” I say, putting the tablet back in my bag. I stare out the window. He went to a nightclub yesterday.
With Arnon.
The lying sack of an assistant.
I knew that asshole was bad news. Jeremy never said anything bad about Arnon, but then again, he was too busy expediting the sale so he could retire to a yacht in the Caribbean.
My mind keeps circling back.
What happened in that club for him to look guilty?
Shit.
A thought slams into me.
What if he was so open yesterday not because he was ready to talk… but because he felt guilty?
Oh God.
I slowly turn my head to stare at the side of his face.
From the outside, he looks the same. The same beard. The same dark hair. His eyes may not look at me like I’m his entire world anymore, but they’re still the same shade of brown I fell in love with.
He’s attractive.
I know it.
And everyone else knows it too.
It’s not just his looks though. Logan has this kind of quiet charm that pulls people in, strangers, fellow parents, clients.
Women hit on him.
A lot.
Often while I’m standing right next to him.
I’ve never had a reason to doubt him before.
Not even with Lenore.
Once my anger settled and I had time to think, I knew he’d been telling the truth about her.
But what if he decided to get even?
What if he did exactly what I did?
My stomach twists.
What would I do then?
“What?” he asks, glancing at me, his brows lifting slightly.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head.
Logan
Jess keeps looking at me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to solve.
I don’t know what it is.
As I pull into the empty lot of the club, nerves crawl up my spine.
I should warn her about Hayao.
About the conversation we had yesterday and how I shared more than I should have.
I’d planned to come back alone today. Maybe bring Arnon. Or even Darren.
But I already overstepped by agreeing without consulting Jess. If I’d signed a permanent contract without even telling her, that would’ve been plain disrespectful.
And she would’ve been right to call me out on it.
I can’t keep pretending this is just business. Not when everything between us feels this fragile. One wrong move and it’s not just an argument, it’s proof. Proof that we don’t function as partners anymore.
I have a feeling she knows something’s off. The way she dismissed me so coolly this morning… it scared the crap out of me.
Not talking to her all this time has sucked. I told myself I needed space. Told myself it was healthier than exploding every other day. But space has a way of turning into distance if you’re not careful.
And I’m starting to wonder if I let it stretch too far.
Jess is my best friend.
I’ve tried compensating, hanging out with Darren, grabbing drinks with Arnon, but no one replaces her.
No one ever could.
I park and kill the engine. For a second, neither of us moves.
I reach for the door handle, but before I can open it, Jess puts a hand on my forearm.
“Logan.”
“Yeah?” I say, silently pleading with my eyes for her to tell me what’s wrong.
But she just shakes her head. “Nothing.”
Then she opens her door before I can push. We walk toward the entrance in silence. The huge black doors are unlocked.
Jess notices immediately. The slight tightening of her jaw tells me she doesn’t like it.
Neither do I.
As soon as we step inside, she shifts into work mode.
“That corner,” she says, pointing and taking pictures with the work tablet
I nod.
She walks further in. “We can put infrared cameras at the secondary entrance. And the stairwell is completely exposed.”
She’s moving confidently now, assessing angles, entry points, flow.
This is completely my lane. I can talk about possible threats and hidden cameras in my sleep.
But right now?
All I can focus on is how professional she sounds. How competent. She’s pointing out things I missed yesterday.
And instead of feeling threatened, I feel… proud.
And maybe a little intimidated.
Because this version of her isn’t waiting around for me to lead her.
If I’m being honest, I agreed to buy Baywatch less because of her promise to take it over and more because I’d already decided it made sense.
Don’t get me wrong, Jess has always been capable. But I expected her to stumble at the beginning.
That’s what happens when I underestimate her, I guess.
“Logan?”
I blink and realize she’s looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I ask, having completely missed whatever she just said.
She repeats herself. “How many people do you think we’ll need?”
“Right.” I clear my throat and force myself back into work mode. “I was here during the evening, and it was packed. I’d say two at the front door, one in the back hallway. Hayao mentioned they already have a bouncer for the VIP area.”
Jess nods thoughtfully, scanning the room again.
“What about the doors?” she asks.
“Apparently,” I say, gesturing vaguely, “this is an open club. Like… the doors are just open.”
Her head snaps toward me. “Open?”
“That’s what she said.”
“What about capacity?” Jess asks, genuinely bewildered now.
“I have no idea,” I admit.
That probably should’ve been my first question, but I’d been in too much of a rush to get away to ask secondary questions.
“I thought I heard voices,” a smooth voice says from behind us.
We both turn.
Hayao walks confidently toward us from the back hallway, a smile aimed directly at me.
But her stride, and that smile, falter for just a second when she spots Jess standing beside me.
“Hi,” she says to me first.
Then she recovers smoothly, extending a hand toward Jess. “I’m Hayao. The owner.”
“Oh,” Jess replies calmly, taking her hand. “I’m Jess.”
“Your boss kind of scared me,” Hayao says with a light laugh, leaning in toward Jess like she expects my wife to side with her. “All that talk about where we lack in security…”
Jess doesn’t even blink. Ever the professional, she bypasses the bait entirely. “We offer several different tiers…,” she says smoothly, stepping into presentation mode without missing a beat.
I’m going to be honest.
Confidence is a turn-on for me.
I fell for Jess, hook, line, and sinker, back in college.
All it took was watching her give a presentation in a class we’d shared all semester.
I hadn’t said a single word to her before that day, but the moment she stood at the front of the room, calm, articulate, and effortlessly commanding attention, I was done for.
The girl I’d barely noticed became completely irresistible.
Something like that might be happening again now.
We’ve been living like roommates for the past few months. My head’s been too messed up to think about sex, aside from the extra-long showers I’ve been taking to work off the edge. But watching her right now, I remember why I chased her around campus after she turned me down the first time.
Most people stumble when all eyes are on them. They stutter. They fidget. They show something.
Not Jess.
She thrives in it.
Hayao, who seemed attractive yesterday, suddenly looks ordinary next to my wife.
And I can’t remember how I ever let myself forget that.
Hayao keeps glancing at me like she expects me to jump in, to reinforce something Jess says, to take control of the room the way I did yesterday. But I don’t. There’s no need. Jess has it handled. More than handled.
I notice the exact moment it clicks for her.
Her posture stiffens, just slightly. Her eyes flick down to the ring on Jess’s hand, then to the matching band on mine. The confidence in her stance shifts, recalibrates. The dynamic she thought she understood isn’t what she assumed.
Her gaze narrows faintly, like she’s piecing together new information in real time.
And I mentally kick myself.
Now I can almost see the question forming behind her eyes.
Jess finishes outlining the coverage tiers and looks at Hayao expectantly. “Does that make sense?”
Hayao nods, but her attention drifts back to me for a split second before returning to Jess. The hesitation is subtle, but it’s there.
“I understand the plans,” she says carefully.
“It’s just… my last security company bailed abruptly.
The owner was going through a divorce and ended up selling the business to avoid giving his wife half.
” She shifts her weight slightly, fingers tightening around each other’s.
“I just want to make sure that’s not going to happen again. ”
Jess frowns, genuinely confused. “Why would it?”
Hayao’s eyes flick to me before settling back on Jess. “Well… Logan mentioned yesterday that he’s separated, and I just-”
I don’t hear the rest.
My eyes lock onto Jess.
Shock hits her first. It’s clean and immediate. Then it shifts, to disbelief, to something sharper. Her posture stiffens. And then it lands.
Realization.
She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t demand an explanation. She just drops her gaze to the floor like the tiles suddenly hold more answers than I do.
“I have to go,” she mutters, the professionalism gone from her voice.
Before either of us can respond, she turns and walks out.
I stand there for half a second too long, watching the door swing closed behind her.
Beside me, Hayao shifts uncomfortably. “Should I… not have said anything?” she asks, uncertainty cracking through her composure.
Of course you shouldn’t have.
But I don’t say it.
Because this isn’t on her.
I’m the one who ran my mouth.
Without answering, I turn and follow Jess, my pulse pounding in my ears as I push through the doors and head after my wife.