Chapter 14 Logan
LOGAN
“What do you mean, you only need ten minutes total?” I asked Nina as we sped down the highway after a detour to the pet shop. “You do realize that you’re moving into my place for months, right?”
We were in the back of my SUV after the press conference with Noah passed out between us, debating when and how Nina could gather her things.
She wanted to swing by her place on the way home.
It was fine with me, but when she’d said ten minutes, I’d assumed she was just planning to throw a few things in a bag and come back for the rest of it later.
But no, she was insistent that ten minutes was all she needed for everything.
“I’m mobile. I live lean,” she shrugged at me. “And we’re going to drive right by. Your assistant already took Ariel home, so we don’t have to worry about her. I’ll be quick.”
“But what was all of that static about needing a week to uproot your life?” I asked.
“Well, life is more than just stuff,” she sighed. “There’s a psychological process to dealing with change as well. I want to come to terms with what all of this means, you know?”
I didn’t, and perhaps that was a problem?
She must have read the baffled look on my face, because she rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. But I do want to go ahead and get my stuff. It won’t take long. Noah’s out cold; I bet he won’t even wake up while I run in.”
“There’s no way I’m letting you pack by yourself. I’ll come in and help, and Danny can keep the car running. Noah has known him since he was a baby; he’ll be okay in here if he wakes up. Right, Danny?”
“Of course,” my trusty driver answered. “No problem.”
“Fine, you can come in,” Nina conceded, even though she didn’t look happy about it. “But don’t judge.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant until we pulled up to her building.
“You live in a warehouse?” I asked, eyeing the brick facade with the ghost sign for a fruit market still legible on the side.
A warehouse in a shitty part of town.
“Former warehouse, now studio apartments,” she said over her shoulder. She hopped out of the car.
Noah was indeed deeply asleep, so I followed behind her.
She punched in the code to the main doors, then pulled out a keychain with just two keys on it. She definitely traveled light.
Her apartment was tiny, a single exposed-brick room with a high ceiling and a bed behind an Ikea bookshelf that acted as a room divider. There was a kitchenette with a small counter and a closed door that I assumed led to a bathroom.
“Where do you keep the rest of your luggage?” I asked.
She laughed at me as she fished around under the kitchen sink. “The ‘rest of’ it? I have one suitcase that’s currently in the back of your car. We can put everything else in trash bags. Won’t be the first time.”
She handed me a bag and pointed at a rolling rack of clothing. “My stuff is to the left of the green hanger.”
I walked over to the rack. “That can’t be right. There’s only…” I quickly counted the items, “…seven things hanging here.”
She pulled a drawer out of a dresser and emptied its contents into a garbage bag. “Everything else is in that suitcase we just talked about.”
Damn. I was used to women who traveled with a half dozen steamer trunks for a weekend away. I didn’t know what to do with a woman whose entire life fit into one suitcase and a few bags.
“So who does this clothing belong to?” I asked, pointing to the crowded section of the rack.
“My roommate Tasha.”
I paused to glance around the space again. It was the size of my primary bathroom. The entire apartment could fit in one room at my house, so how was she managing to share it?
“Roommate?” I demanded.
She stopped dumping stuff in her trash bag to glare at me. “I said don’t judge.”
I pointed to the only bed in the space. “Do you snuggle with said roommate?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Nina grumbled at me.
“She’s a travel writer. Our schedules for actually being in town pretty much never overlap.
We both agreed that it made sense to co-live.
It’s not a true roommate scenario since we’re hardly ever here at the same time.
I think we had all of one night of overlap last year—and on that night, yeah, we shared.
We’re best friends; it wasn’t a big deal. ”
“Ah, understood.” I folded the few outfits, trying not to picture how she looked in each one.
“You don’t have to be so delicate about them,” she insisted. “It’s not like any of it is designer. I got it all from Target. Throw it in that bag.”
I paused to frown at her. “But it’s your stuff. Why wouldn’t you treat it with care?”
She shrugged and moved on to pack the bathroom while I looked around the space again.
It felt transitional. Not like a home at all. I hated picturing her sleeping in the depressing, undecorated apartment. There wasn’t a single personal item like a framed photo in the place.
“Okay, I’m all set.” As promised, it had taken less than ten minutes.
Seeing her with half-full trash bags as her luggage snagged my heart. Nina deserved so much more.
“Let me.”
I was shocked that she actually let me carry the bags outside to the car. We climbed in, and Noah didn’t even stir.
“Home now?” Danny asked.
“Please.”
The car went silent for the remainder of the drive as we all contemplated what came next. I watched Nina take in the scenery change as we left her part of the world and headed into mine.
They were worlds apart, and when I looked at Nina, I could see her processing the changes. Wider streets, bigger trees, fancier cars. It was almost impossible to see the impressive homes, but the gates and shrubbery indicated that each and every one was a mansion.
The main gates to my house slid open, and she shifted in her seat to get a better view of her temporary home.
“Oh wow,” she sighed as it came into view.
Yeah, even I had to admit that it was pretty damn impressive.
While I loved the house I’d grown up in—the mansion that Mom had decorated with such care—I’d gone for something simpler for myself.
But simple could still be luxurious, if it was done right.
Everything was clean, straight lines with tons of windows.
The house was a deep gray, so it nearly disappeared on foggy days.
“You live in a…lair,” Nina breathed as we drove up the long driveway. “Are you a Bond villain?”
“Occasionally. Let’s just say you should avoid my basement.”
She laughed. “Got it.”
“Are we home, Daddy?” Noah asked in a sleepy voice as his eyes fluttered open.
“We sure are.”
“Hi, Miss Nina,” he added, like he was just remembering she was along for the ride as well.
“Hiya, sweetie,” she grinned at him, and they shared a moment.
Any concerns I’d been fighting off disappeared as I watched them. It didn’t matter how distracting it was going to be having her under my roof; she was exactly what my son needed.
“When are you going back to the boat?” Noah asked Nina.
It hit me that we’d be spending our time together shifting from faux married to employer and employee. Would Noah pick up on the difference between how we acted in public versus how we were at home? Maintaining equilibrium for him was going to be a delicate balance.
Nina reached over to squeeze his hand. “Oh, not for a while, bud. And let’s not worry about that now. We’ve got tons of fun times ahead of us. Right?”
“Right,” he said, with sleepy enthusiasm. “I’m happy.”
His eyes fluttered shut right as we came to a stop.
“Wow,” Nina sighed as she looked out the window. “Honey, I’m home.”
I chuckled. “Let’s get settled. Henry will be out to gather our things. Noey, you have to wake up.”
“Is Henry the guy who irons your black turtlenecks and keeps your hairless cat healthy?” Nina asked me as she tumbled out of the car.
“Excuse me?”
“The comic book villain vibe,” she insisted, pointing to my house. “Never mind, dumb joke.”
Noah finally stretched, yawned, and slid out of the car. “Hi, Henry.”
My house manager, Henry, came out on the front steps, beaming at us. “Welcome home. I trust you had a wonderful voyage.”
His voice still had the lilt of his native tongue, and even though I’d told him he didn’t have to wear a blazer, he still insisted on dressing up every day. He’d been with me for so long that his jet-black hair had faded to white.
“Miss Nina,” he continued, giving her a little bow. “I’m so pleased to meet you. I can assist with anything you might need, as can Josie our housekeeper.”
“It’s nice to meet you, thank you,” Nina answered, looking even more overwhelmed. She turned back to me. “Can you unlock the back door? I want to grab my—”
“Please don’t trouble yourself,” Henry said quickly. “Come in and get comfortable; your luggage will be taken care of.”
She paused in the driveway like she wasn’t sure she could believe it.
“C’mon,” I assured her.
Noah trudged past us and up the front stairs.
“I’m going to play in my room for a little bit,” Noah said.
“Good for you. Go rest,” I called after him.
Noah had his challenges, but he was one of the rare kids who could appreciate a nap when he was worn out. I could tell his “playing” would end in a few minutes.
“I’ll take you on a quick tour and then you can get settled,” I said to Nina.
“Are you kidding me?” she whispered to herself as she walked around the foyer. She swiveled her head to take in the space and pointed up at the collection of globe lights hanging from the ceiling at different lengths. “That looks like it belongs in a planetarium.”
I followed her gaze. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”
Henry walked in carrying two of our suitcases. “I’ve prepared the corner suite upstairs for Miss Nina. Does that work for you, Logan?”
“Perfect,” I nodded. “I’ll show you where it is, Nina. This way.”
I strode past her to the staircase that bisected the foyer. Before Noah, it had been completely open and without handrails, like floating modern art. The babyproofing expert I’d hired before Noah was born had walked in and made short order of my clean aesthetic.
“Can I get a map of this place?” Nina joked from behind me.
“It’s pretty intuitive,” I assured her as I strolled down the hallway lined with closed doors. “You’ll see.”
“Says you. How many guest bedrooms do you have here?”
“Eleven.”
She sputtered.
“Your room is right down…here,” I said as I pushed the door open and stepped aside to let her enter before me.
She walked in and paused, almost like she didn’t think she was supposed to be there.
Henry had opted to put her in my favorite bedroom in the house, aside from my own.
It was a corner room so two of the walls were actually floor-to-ceiling windows that slid open.
The balcony beyond it looked out over the gardens.
There wasn’t as much land as our family home, but the landscape architect had worked some miracles to make it look like it stretched on for acres.
“It’s girlier than I would’ve expected,” Nina said, still frozen in place.
“My decorator insisted that we let one room be softer than the rest. She wanted more color, so we compromised with that floral accent wall.”
“Monochromatic poppies don’t really count as ‘color,’ but I get what you’re saying.”
I gestured for her to follow me. “Bathroom is right in here, along with a dressing room and closet.”
She peeked her head in and scanned the space. “This is a closet? I could live in here.”
“Luckily, you don’t have to.”
At least not for the next few months.
What happened after that was a mystery.
“Well,” Nina was wearing a Cheshire Cat smile. “This is going to be fun.”
Normally, I’d bristle at the idea of having a long-term guest under my roof, but for some reason with Nina, it just felt right.