Page 122 of Meet Me in the Valley
She is your mother.
Logan
And she’s your EX-wife.
Logan
Don’t let her get in your head, chief.
Dad
Be nice, son. I didn’t raise you to be an asshole. Say hi to your mother for me.
Pocketing my phone with a scoff, I pull open the door to the little Tex-Mex joint where I’m meeting my mom. It’s a hole-in-the-wall spot with a simple menu: fajitas, tacos, and margaritas strong enough to knock out a grown man. I’m half-tempted to order two just to survive this dinner, but Dad told me not to be an asshole.
And Charlotte, my ever-patient therapist, would probably frown at using tequila as a coping mechanism.
So, no. I’m not ready for this conversation. But Iamready enough to show up for it.
A hostess greets me at the front, her smile bright and polite—until recognition hits. Her expression shifts, eyes narrowing slightly as she crosses her arms over her chest like she’s bracing for impact.
“Logan,” she says flatly. “Nice to see you again.”
Shit. I forgot she worked here.
“Hey, Erin.” I give her an awkward-as-hell wave, like all my charm short-circuited the second I walked in.
Erin was one of the very few girls who got more than a night or two with me. We were exclusive for almost a month until I ran when she wanted more. I left in the middle of the night like the grade-A asshole I am.
She glances past me, probably checking to see if I’ve shown up with another girl. When her eyes snap back to mine, they’re definitely less friendly.
“No date tonight?”
“Uh, no, I’m just meeting my mom. So, uh, how’ve you been?
Erin rolls her eyes, and for a split second, the gesture reminds me of Tia—my beautiful, sharp-mouthed, cunning minx who I’m missing something fucking fierce. I barely catch myself before a smile breaks through.
Damn. Too late.
Erin’s eyes narrow. “Oh, is that funny to you?”
I throw my hands up in quick surrender, already scrambling to clean up the mess.
“No! Not at all. I just wanted to say sor?—”
“Leaving me in the middle of the night while I’m naked in bed is funny to you?” she cuts in, arms still crossed, voice razor-edged.
“No. There’s nothing funny about it.”
“You ignored all of my texts.”
“I know.”
“And all my calls, you dick.”
“I know,” I resign, running a hand through my hair.
“I really liked you, Logan,” Erin admits, her voice small.
