Page 52 of Power Play Daddies
His reply is quick:No problem. Let me know when you’re free.
I set my phone down, staring at the ceiling. My mind keeps drifting back to Beau—his story, his eyes, the way he made me feel like I could tell him anything.
Slim nudges my hand, and I sigh, pulling him onto my lap. “What is it about him, huh?”
He doesn’t answer, obviously, but his warm presence is comforting. I sip my wine, the questions swirling in my mind.
What is it about Blaze Callahan that makes me want to open up every locked door in my heart?
Logan’s sitting on my couch, one leg propped over the other, skimming through the transcript I’ve been slaving over for days. My green juice sits on the counter, taunting me with its smug healthiness.
I take a sip and grimace. Kale and cucumbers were not meant to be liquified.
“Please say something,” I blurt, pacing the length of the kitchen. My nerves are a live wire, buzzing under my skin.
Logan doesn’t even look up. “Daisy, shut it. Drink your weird juice. I’m almost done.”
I glare at him, but he’s too focused on the pages to notice. Slim pads over, sniffing around for attention, and I kneel down to scratch behind his ears.
Anything to keep busy. Anything to stop my brain from spiraling.
This has to go well. Beau’s interview is the first deep dive I’ve done. I was so stressed about it, I haven’t even started transcribing the rest of the interviews. He approved the final version late last night, and when he added a quick, “I trust you,” it did something to me—made my stomach flip in ways it really shouldn’t.
It’s just a job, I remind myself. A damn important one, but still, just a job.
Logan whistles. My head snaps up, and I practically sprint into the living room. “What? What is it?”
He looks up at me, eyes wide. “I had no idea Beau’s family was that loaded. Like, billionaire loaded?”
“Me neither.” I shrug, though my chest tightens just thinking about how raw Beau was when he talked about them.
Logan goes quiet, scanning the pages again. I count the seconds in my head—one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three… He doesn’t look up for seven whole minutes.
“Logan!” I shout, waving my hands dramatically. “Say something before I lose my damn mind.”
He finally looks up, and my breath catches. His eyes are glassy, like he’s actually tearing up. Oh shit. Is that good? Bad?
“Oh my god, Daisy.” His voice cracks a little. “This is so good. Like, ridiculously good.”
My stomach drops. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, grinning now. “If I knew you were this talented, I’d have made you write my vows for Henry.”
I snort, swatting at him. “Shut up.”
“No, seriously. Janice is gonna eat this up. You crushed it.” He stands and hugs me, squeezing me tight.
I barely manage a whispered, “Thank you,” before I’m bolting for the kitchen. The stress finally catches up, and I hurl into the sink.
“Daisy!” Logan’s behind me in an instant, rubbing my back. “Jesus, calm down. You’re gonna be fine. Breathe, okay?”
I groan, rinsing my mouth out. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just nerves.”
“More like a meltdown,” he mutters. “This article has you spiraling. That is why I told you to start drinking kale juice. I swear it helps with nausea.”
“Well, I have been drinking it for two days now, and I don’t think it actually helps. I think that Reddit post lied to both of us.”
“Yikes. Okay, I’ll Google more recipes later. Hurry up and brush your teeth. We’ve got a meeting to get to.”
