Page 91 of Logan
He works through headaches and pushes himself, and he’s made it clear he won’t ask anything of his employees that he doesn’t demand of himself. The fact that his expectations are completely unreasonable and inhumane doesn’t seem to faze him.
I slowly push myself into a sitting position, groaning as the room spins around me. I fumble for the bottle of Advil on my nightstand, shaking out two pills and swallowing them dry.
A glance at the clock tells me it’s almost nine. That doesn’t leave me much time to get ready, and making it bynine-thirty is already a lost cause. At this point, all I can hope for is not to be horrendously late.
I stumble to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face and try to brush some color into my pale cheeks. My sunken eyes stare back at me from the mirror, glassy and fever-bright.
“You can do this,” I tell my reflection. “It’s just one presentation. Survive that, and you can come home and sleep for a week.”
I tug on a clean blouse and pencil skirt, jabbing myself in the eye twice while trying to apply mascara to my clumpy lashes. My hands shake, and cold sweat beads along my hairline. I look like an extra fromThe Walking Dead, but it’ll have to do. No way I’m getting dolled up for this farce.
By some miracle, I make it to Valeur-Tech only a few minutes late, wheezing and clutching my side as I hurry down the hall toward the executive conference room. I burst through the glass doors and nearly collapse in relief as I see Logan hasn’t arrived yet.
There’s only one empty seat at the large oval table, and of course, it’s right next to his. I feel everyone’s eyes on me as I limp over and collapse into the chair, trying to catch my breath.
Across from me, Liam Valeur offers a sympathetic smile before turning back to the email he’s composing.
If Logan notices my bedraggled state as he strides in a moment later, his face betrays no reaction. He simply takes his place at the head of the table and calls the meeting to order, launching into a detailed analysis of the Wolfson deal and the company’s projections for the next quarter.
I listen and try to take notes on my computer. He won’t catch me unprepared, and I’m sure he’ll try.
I attempt to focus, I really do. But his deep, honeyed voice keeps fading in and out, my fevered brain latching onto random words and phrases that make no sense out of context.
Merger... Profit margins... Downsizing...
I hear my name and jerk upright, blinking. Shit. I was drifting off. How long have I been zoning out? I glance at my watch and feel my stomach drop. Nearly an hour. Logan’s presentation is winding down, which means...
“Sloane.” He looks right at me with one dark brow arched. “It’s your turn.”
Fuck, don’t screw up now. Everyone’s watching.
I raise a hand and tuck the wayward strands of hair behind my ears, trying to take a moment to stabilize myself before I rise. The room tilts and spins as I struggle to my feet, gripping the edge of the table for balance.
I swallow hard, trying to force a smile as I fumble with my laptop, willing my clumsy fingers to cooperate. Just need to pull up the PowerPoint. Just need to…
I press several buttons and disconnect and reconnect the cord, but nothing happens. My hand trembles.
“Let me.” Logan places his hand on my arm, stopping me from continuing to try.
His eyes remain locked on mine, looking like narrow slits, his pupils so dilated his irises appear black instead of their usual clear blue.
Oh, now I get what those authors mean when they write, “…his eyes darkened.”
I continue to stare at his face, at the crease appearing on his forehead. I hadn’t noticed it until now...
“Everyone out,” he orders.
“What?” I mumble. “I’m ready to start.”
“Everyone, leave the room now. Take a break,” Logan commands, and before I can grasp what’s happening, everyone shoots up from their seats, hurrying to escape, leaving their equipment behind like mice fleeing a sinking ship, rescuing nothing. I take a step toward the exit.
“You, stay,” he commands again.
I want to object, but my butt lands back in the chair. Better to sit, really. My legs feel like rubber right now and the dizziness isn’t slowing.
The moment the room empties completely, Logan approaches my chair and touches my forehead.
I flinch, and he removes his hand.
