Chapter 7 #2
Logan listens to Mia chatter about what she wants to do with her day off school while he sips his black coffee. She’s telling him about our sleepover on the couch and how she never gets to have sleepovers with her friends anymore, and she misses it.
My attention snags on that little detail, and I look away from the frozen breakfast sandwiches I’m toasting and see Logan, his eyes ever fixed on me.
There’s heat there, like he’s deep in the same kind of thought I’m battling.
But that can’t be the case. Whatever this hot man is thinking, it’s more likely he’s hungry and looking for something to eat than he’s thinking about me.
I refocus my attention on my girl, who is still sounding a little lost about the lack of friends in her life.
“Baby, you can have a sleepover soon. I promise.” I check the breakfast sandwiches and push away a heavy dose of motherly guilt. “I’ll call Kylee’s mom today,” I promise. “Maybe she can sleep over this weekend.”
“Yes!” Mia cheers and pushes back from the table. “Can I go play in my room?”
“Honey, you didn’t even eat yet.” I set a sausage and egg biscuit on the plate in front of Mia. “After breakfast.”
Mia’s like me and never likes eating breakfast, but if I put the food in front of her, she’ll normally dig in. She watches Logan and waits for him to start. “Do you like sausage?” she asks.
He nods. “I’m not too picky when it comes to food,” he says, taking a big bite of his sandwich.
“Except pineapple on pizza,” I say, remembering what he told me last night.
His eyes meet mine, and a lazy, curious expression curls a smile across his face. “Yeah,” he says.
Mia starts moaning about how gross pineapples are, while I stand against the counter and nibble my sandwich.
“Why don’t you sit?” Logan says, motioning to a chair.
“I just want to multitask a bit. I need to call my boss. Once you start working, it’ll probably be too loud to make any calls.”
Logan’s face falls. “Is this going to be bad for your head? There’s not a lot of pounding involved, but there will be some noise. I never thought maybe it would be a bad day to do this…”
I hold up a hand. “No, no, it’ll be fine. I’ll just make a few quick calls.”
While he dives into his meal, I eat my breakfast and take some over-the-counter pain medicine for my gash. I’m aware of his gaze on me as I punch in my passcode and listen to my voice mail messages. While I was laid up, Mia’s school called and my boss.
I call my boss and explain the situation and let him know I’ll take a photo of the note from the doctor.
“You realize missing yesterday’s meeting put me in a world of hurt.
” When I get through to him, my boss Jeff is critical.
“I’m sorry you were hurt, but I had to cancel the meeting, Bridget.
It was your job to prep the quarterly numbers.
I can put off the meeting a few days due to your little situation, but none of this is good. Not for you, not for me.”
I close my eyes and hang my head. “I’m truly sorry for that, Jeff.” I try to piece together a sincere apology, but right now, I want to hang up on the guy and climb into bed.
“I didn’t want to do this like this, Bridget, over the phone and all, but…”
I squint my eyes closed, but I don’t even try to interrupt. I know what’s coming. I listen to Jeff say the words that will change my life. They have to let me go. The termination will be for cause.
When he’s done, I simply say, “I understand.” And then I hang up and drop my face into my hands, my elbows on the kitchen table.
“Hey.”
I open my eyes to Logan’s concerned expression.
He’s loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and is standing just a few feet away.
Somehow, even at a more than reasonable distance, I feel his heat.
Something in me wants to lean in, set my head against that massive shoulder, and just rest. That feeling of safety, of being drawn to someone because there is goodness there, it’s not a feeling I’m used to. But I want so badly to trust it.
“I might have earplugs in my tool kit,” he says.
“Hmm?” I try to focus and pay attention. Maybe it’s the concussion, maybe it’s my loneliness—either way, I’m far too focused on the curve of his lips and his strong, uneven nose.
He taps his index finger against his forehead. “I’m worried about making too much noise,” he says. “I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”
I want to be grateful. I want to talk to him more, reassure him that he’s helping me, but I’m hitting a wall hard and fast. I just lost my job, and my stomach is sinking as quickly as my heart.
I want to scream, cry, punch something. But I can’t do any of that.
I need to move slowly and take it easy. My sucky life sucks just a little bit more right now. “It’s okay… I just—I…”
“What?” he demands, his tone sharp, almost protective. “What happened?”
I try to play it off lightly, but when the words pass my lips, I start crying. “I got let go. Fired.” I shake my head gently and shrug. “Too many days off. Too many sick days for me and Mia. I’d been warned. One more unexcused absence… And yesterday was it.”
“Unexcused.” His eyes glitter with anger. “Birdie, you were in the hospital. How can they do that?”
“They can,” I say quietly. “And they did. It’s…it’s fine. We’ll be okay. I…I’ll find something else.”
“Come on,” he says. “I think you should lie down.”
He takes my elbow, and we walk up the stairs together. His hand is firm on me, the other hand hovering but not touching my lower back.
“It’s going to be all right,” he says. “You’ve got this.”
“I’m not normally helpless, Logan.” As much as I need the help, something about being the damsel in distress like this doesn’t sit right with me. “I’m not this. I’m more than this,” I say, my voice quiet.
At the top of the stairs, he nods at me and says, “I’m going to go look for those earplugs.”
Then he heads back downstairs. I go into my bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. I can hear Mia chattering away, talking to herself.
I hear Logan’s boots on the stairs, and suddenly, he’s at my bedroom door. He’s holding out a small plastic baggie with a bunch of neon orange earplugs inside. “Take a couple,” he said. “I’ll do my best to work quietly, but you’ll want to muffle as much of the noise as you can.”
I nod, and he steps inside my bedroom.
“You need water or anything?” he asks as I pick two of the soft foam wedges from the bag.
I laugh. “Logan, I should be asking you that. You’re my guest.” I meet his eyes. “Do me a favor? Just make yourself at home. If you need a snack or something to drink, help yourself.”
He watches me as I put in the earplugs and lie back against the bed. I have magazines and a book to my right, but I’m so tired, I might just lie here in the dark and rest.
My brain feels like the effort to read or even look at pictures is more than it wants to do. It’s as if my mind ran a marathon and my brain is exhausted. I’m not sleepy, but I’m worn-out. It’s the strangest feeling.
I’m jobless. Out of options. And I have a shitload of stress ahead. A headache doctor to find. Insurance stuff to sort out.
But for the next few hours, for the first time in a long time, I relax.