Chapter twelve
EVELYN
I would have been fully capable of spending my first-ever conviction on the murder of Logan Turner the moment he approached us in the hospital cafeteria and announced our stay in New York was being extended.
I refrained only to avoid traumatizing the girls by leaping at their father and strangling him right in front of them.
And damn if Logan Turner wasn't a foot taller and infinitely stronger than me—though no one should underestimate the surge of strength I get when I'm furious.
My ex, Peter, could confirm that with a photo of the spectacular purple bruise I left on his eye during our breakup.
We had to wait for the Holloways to finish their meeting before following them to their apartment, where we would be staying until Logan found a place to rent.
Which, in New York at that time of year, was guaranteed to be after New Year's. In other words, we had over two weeks ahead of us where I would have to pretend, full-time, that I was the girls' mother and madly in love with a man I currently despised.
The homeowners went in first, inviting us to follow and make ourselves comfortable. But Logan stopped us the moment we stepped out of the elevator, his voice low.
"Everyone remembers the plan, right?"
"I'm hungry," Anna replied.
Beside her, Aurora signed, 'Me too.'
I had to admire those girls. They knew how to keep their priorities straight.
"Focus," Logan insisted. "This is important. So, tell me, what do you call Evelyn?"
Anna let out an exasperated huff and crossed her arms. Aurora mirrored the gesture, though she just looked tired.
"Mom," Anna muttered.
Logan looked at Aurora, who uncrossed her arms and made a hand sign. He then turned to me for translation.
"Yeah, she said 'mommy,' too."
"Very good. And what do you call me?"
He stared at Anna. She stared back, her irritation mounting.
"Silly," she snapped.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Even as a childish insult, I knew it carried weight for a five-year-old, and I felt a spark of vindication. After all, I couldn't curse out Logan Turner with the words I had in mind.
"Anna, you need to take this seriously," he said, his own irritation rising. "You know what I am to you, don't you? That's what you should call me."
He kept his eyes locked on her until she finally relented.
"Father."
"'Daddy' would be more affectionate, but 'father' will do." He turned to Aurora. After a pause, she nodded. Logan looked at me for another translation.
"Yeah, she said 'daddy.'"
"Good. You see, Anna? Your sister is much better behaved than you."
"I'm hungry," she repeated, making it abundantly clear she didn't care what he thought.
"Fine, let's go find you something to eat."
The girls grabbed each other's hands and scampered into the apartment. I moved to follow, but Logan stepped in front of me.
"And you? You know what to call me, right?"
I gave him a smile dripping with sarcasm. "What's your preference? 'Honey'? 'Sweetheart'? 'My love'?"
"None of the above. I'm a serious man. You can just call me Logan. You simply need to act like we're together. Discreetly."
"Let me see if I understand... I should lie, but not lie too much?"
"I'm not the kind of man who has a cheesy romance with cutesy nicknames."
"And what kind of romance does Logan Turner have?" I mused. "Oh, I know... the kind where he just puts his clothes on and leaves in the morning."
The look he gave me told me I probably wasn't far off.
"Just keep to the deal, Evelyn. Please."
"I'll do my best. Even if you didn't keep yours. The agreement was that aside from a few social events and me leaving my job at the bookstore, my routine wouldn't change."
"Look, this is as tedious for me as it is for you, believe me. I'd love to go back to Los Angeles tomorrow."
"If you'd love to, then why are we staying?"
"Because it's an opportunity I can't pass up."
"And why aren't we at a hotel, like we originally planned?"
"Because the Holloways insisted we stay here and wouldn't take no for an answer. You don't turn down an invitation from people like them."
I rolled my eyes, utterly exhausted by it all. But we were here now, and I had to see it through.
Logan seemed to read my mind, offering me an irritating half-smile at that very moment.
My God, I hated that man...
And I hated him even more because the son of a bitch looked even more handsome when he smiled like that.
"Shall we?" he said, gesturing for me to enter the apartment first.
I walked past him but stopped just inside the doorway to deliver one final observation.
"For the record," I said, turning back slightly. "Aurora didn't actually say 'daddy.'"
"No? What did she say, then?"
She called you... 'silly.'"
This time, I was the one who smiled. Then I turned on my heel and finally walked into the house, leaving him standing there.
*****
The Holloways—whose names I’d just learned were John and Carol—seemed genuinely thrilled to have us. Carol had laid out a full table of snacks, and after we ate, they gave us a tour of the apartment, which was, by the way, even more massive than I had imagined.
Although the property had six bedrooms, three were locked. John explained they were his adult children’s rooms, always kept ready for their visits. The grandchildren’s room, however, was open and also served as the guest room for visitors with kids.
“Daniel is eight, and Sophia is six,” Carol said proudly as she showed us the colorful space. “They’re our oldest son’s children. This is their room when they’re in New York. I do hope Anna and Aurora like it.”
The girls didn’t answer. They were already rushing to choose their beds in the most unconventional way possible: by climbing onto them and jumping on the mattresses, leaping from one to the other to test which was softer.
Logan tried to intervene. “Aurora, Anna, be polite.” He paused, but they ignored him completely. “Stop that now,” he reinforced, before leaning closer to me and whispering, “Evelyn, can you make them stop?”
Obviously, he didn’t want his future bosses to see that he had zero authority over his own five-year-old daughters—a fact that certainly didn't scream "leadership material."
John and Carol just laughed, watching the girls with sheer delight. “Oh, leave them be!” Carol pleaded. “Our grandchildren do the exact same thing. It’s so wonderful to have children in the house again, isn’t it, John?”
“Absolutely. We miss our grandchildren terribly. And our own kids, too. Once they’re grown and gone, the house feels so empty…”
I made a mental note that this was definitely not a sentiment my own parents would share.
They’d raised me for eighteen years with the ultimate goal being the day I moved out.
They were almost frustrated when I left for college instead of getting married, which had been their—especially my mother's—biggest dream for me.
We left the girls to their bouncing and followed our hosts to see our room.
They opened the door to a bedroom, and I naively assumed we’d be shown another one next.
Instead, they simply said, “You must be exhausted from your trip. Make yourselves comfortable and get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning. ”
Then they just turned and walked to their own room, closing the door behind them.
It was so obvious! How could I have been so stupid? If Logan and I were supposed to be a couple, of course they would give us just one room.
With one bed.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered, frozen in the doorway.
Beside me, Logan looked just as stunned as I felt. “I hadn’t thought of that. It was obvious they’d only give us one room…”
“Of course you didn’t think of that. You only think about yourself and that damn director position.”
“We can work around this. We’re adults; let’s handle it maturely. The bed is huge. We can share it without even touching.”
“I am not sharing a bed with you.”
“I don’t think we have an alternative.”
“Yes, we do. I’ll take the bed, and you’ll sleep on the floor.”
“There’s no need for that, Evelyn.”
“Oh, there is. It’s the very least you owe me, Logan. You can get comfortable on that shaggy, tasteless rug. I’m going to put the girls to bed.”
I turned to head to the children’s room—which was right across from ours—but stopped when Logan called after me.
“Evelyn, wait. Look, I’m sorry, but… you’ll be free for the next few days. I start in the lab tomorrow. I need a proper night’s sleep to be sharp. It’s not fair that I have to sleep on the floor.”
He was unbelievable.
I turned back to face him. “Fine. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Really?” He gave me a hopeful, relieved smile.
“Yes. And since you’ll be so well-rested from your soft, comfortable bed, you can add ‘taking care of your daughters’ to your to-do list. Why don’t you start right now by putting them to bed?”
His eyes darted from me to the bedroom door, where the girls’ excited squeals echoed as they continued to jump. He then pointed a thumb back toward our room and said, “I’m going to get some blankets to set up my bed on the floor.”