Page 20 of Logan
Sloane stands in my kitchen, stirring something in a bowl, a smell that doesn’t register in my foggy mind.
“What are you doing?” I blurt out, my irritation surfacing. I had forgotten she was here, and I desperately needed some quiet to clear my head and think.
“Oh, hey,” she responds with a chipper tone that only serves to exacerbate my pounding headache. “How was your day?”
“Long,” I reply, the tension in my temples tightening. “I need you to prepare a detailed requirements report for the cameras needed for your product. I want to see the minimum specifications the programming allows.” Perhaps this data will sway Wolfson to close the deal with me.
“But—”
“But?” I snap, my patience wearing thin.
Sloane hesitates, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water struggling for breath. I had thought Liam said she was a genius. I can’t deal with incompetence right now. I need something for this headache before it cripples me.
“No,” she says.
“Excuse me?” Did she just refuse my request?
“Yes, I work at Valeur-Tech, and you’re my boss, obviously, but I’m here on vacation. A vacation that I earned and deserve. I don’t want to write reports on my vacation,” she states, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes in what seems like an attempt at intimidation.
Her attempt falls flat. She couldn’t threaten a fly if she tried.
“So, you’re refusing?”
“Yes, I refuse. You told me you’re everything people say you are, but I didn’t realize you were such a son of a bitch.”
I wince at the words, not from offense but from the increasing pressure in my head. Does she have to shout?
Her expression shifts from defiance to horror as she covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say it. It slipped out of my mouth. I’m really sorry.”
“You didn’t mean to say it, but you sure meant it,” I retort, trying to keep my voice steady despite the throbbing pain in my head. Normally, this kind of insubordination would lead to immediate dismissal. But Liam’s insistence on her importance holds me back.
“I’m sorry. Truly. I’ll write the report if you forget I ever said that. Okay?”
Flashes appear in the corner of my vision. I lose my balance, reaching out to steady myself against the wall.Fuck.This headache is one of the worst I’ve had.
“Oh, are you okay?” She rushes to my side, grasping my arm. I flinch, and she releases me. “You don’t look good. Should I call a doctor? Do you have insurance?” Her words tumble out in a flurry of concern. “Of course, you have insurance. You’re rich. I’m being ridiculous. Maybe I should call an ambulance?”
“No. It’s just a headache. I need to take a pill and lie down for a while,” I mutter, wishing she would lower her voice.
“I can help you with that,” Sloane offers, her hand hovering in the air before she lets it fall back to her side. “That is if you agree to forget what I said before.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. Tea won’t help me now,” I reply. The thought of laughter is tempting, but even moving my facial muscles hurts right now. Besides, if I were to drink or eat anything, I’d likely end up vomiting.
“Not tea, a massage,” she clarifies, her cheeks flushing red. “I mean, a muscle massage. Noth–nothing sexual,” she stutters, her words coming out in a rush.
“Of course not,” I reply, raising an eyebrow at her flustered explanation. Sloane looks cute when she’s embarrassed.
I weigh her offer in my mind. Allowing her to give me a massage might ease the pain, and she does seem genuine in her intent. Plus, she’s the one offering the assistance, not the other way around.
As long as I don’t touch her, there shouldn’t be any issues of harassment. Besides, I haven’t had such a strong attack in a long time. I can barely stand.
“Okay. What should I do?”
Her eyes widen, and she licks her lips. “Take off your jacket and lie down on the couch.”
I give her a quizzical look, noticing a subtle shift in her demeanor. Is she...aroused? It’s an absurd thought, given the circumstances. Perhaps this headache is causing me to misinterpret things.
Following her into the living room, I notice again the way her jeans hug her curves, drawing my attention in an unexpected direction. Suppressing a snort, I shake off the inappropriate thought.
