Page 92 of Logan
“You have a fever.”
I place my hand on my forehead. “Oh. That’s why I’m so cold,” I mutter.
His lips press into a thin line. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fever?”
“I did. I said I wasn’t feeling well and that I was taking a sick day. You insisted. You said you’d fire me if I didn’t show up.”
He leans in close, his fingers tucking an errant curl behind my ear again, and I shiver. “I thought?—"
“That I was lying?” I arch an eyebrow. Yes. That’s what he thought. That I was lying. I can’t believe after we spent two weeks together, he thinks that of me. That I would lie to get out of work. How little he thinks of me. My chest clenches.
“I’ll take you to the doctor.”
“I’m fine, just a mild cold. No need for a doctor.”
“I’m not letting you leave like this when you’re unwell. You’re shaking all over,” he whispers.
Could it be he’s worried about me? The aching knot in my stomach unravels as his eyes burn into me and his harsh features soften. But I can’t fall for his trap.
“You forced me to come in like this and didn’t care.”
My phone screen lights up, and a message pops onto the display.
Johnny
Was great seeing you yesterday. How about that dinner?
Logan snatches the device off the table before I can react. “Who’s Johnny?” He waves the phone at me, his face ice cold again. All the warmth present a moment ago vanished like it never existed.
“What?”
“Who. Is. Johnny?” he asks again, emphasizing each syllable.
“Johnny is my ex.”
Logan twists his mouth. “Doesn’t sound like he’s an ex, if he’s messaging you about dinner. Is he who you bought condoms for? Who you were with last night?”
“No. I didn’t buy them for anyone. I?—”
“Are you dating him?”
I shake my head. “No. But it’s none of your business.”
“Sloane,” he says in a low voice and leans down so his face is near mine. “You’ll always be my business.”
“So now I’m your business? How? We agreed to go back to being strangers, remember?” I look him straight in the eye.
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“I’m not interested in being your business. Just leave me alone. Don’t give me false hopes.”
His eyes widen. “I?—”
“Do you want me to stay and give the presentation?” I’m not interested in hearing the apologies, the excuses and whatnot. It’s all crap. He’s the CEO of Valeur-Tech. There’s nothing he can’t make happen if he wants to. But the reality is, he doesn’t want to.
“No. You’re not feeling well. Go home. I’ll handle it.”
I close my eyes for a brief moment and will the tears to stay where they are, then gather my things and hurry out before they emerge. I make it to the street before a single one wets my cheek, swiping it away with the back of my hand.
