Page 32 of Saltwater Secrets
But he told her, anyway. “I saw your picture in the news, the one here at the brownstone?”
“Ah yes. The paparazzi photo,” Aria said, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve never been famous before.”
Logan laughed. The air buzzed between them, expectant. “Some of the articles speculated that you were a relative of the Wagners. But one of the sites called your mother, who explained everything about why you’re here and what you’re up to.”
“Admit it. You thought I was squatting here.” Aria crossed her arms.
“It looked a little fishy, didn’t it?”
Aria laughed and passed by him, entering the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. It felt fortuitous. He’d come at exactly the right time.
“Will you stay for a glass?” she asked, waving the bottle. “Or do you have somewhere to run off to?”
Logan chuckled. “I have nowhere to be.”
Because most of the brownstone was void of furniture, they took their wineglasses to the stoop outside and sat, watching the dark street as they drank. The city buzzed with life. It was the literal opposite of Nantucket Island, where the only sounds came from the frothing ocean. They clinked glasses, and Aria found herself falling into Logan’s eyes.
It was strange. A part of her wondered if this was exactly the romance Dorothy Wagner had wanted her to have. A summertime romance that helped her get over Thaddeus.
It was like Dorothy had written the story in the stars.
“How was your meeting?” Aria asked, remembering the producers and how frightened he’d been.
“They loved the shirt.” Logan laughed.
“A Philip Wagner original,” Aria declared.
“I didn’t know that then,” Logan said. “Maybe the guy was lucky. Perhaps that luck rubbed off on me. I don’t know. But the producers signed me on.”
Aria’s heart leaped. She punched him on the arm, lightly. “That’s amazing! Congratulations!”
Logan grinned. “I didn’t bring the shirt back.”
“You can keep it.” She waved him off. “I have no use for it.”
“Your job is to redesign the brownstone,” Logan said.
“And manage the emotional volatility of Dorothy’s daughter,” Aria added.
Logan gave her a blank look, so Aria filled him in. The woman who’d come storming into the brownstone was Renée Wagner, the only living daughter of Dorothy and Philip, who’d come to the brownstone after the death of her mother, apparently because she’d gone through a breakup and had nowhere to be and no money of her own.
“You’ve got yourself a high-grade mess.”
“You can steal it for your next animation project.”
“But it sounds like you have a few mysteries to unravel,” Logan said. “You don’t know if Dorothy killed her husband. You don’t know what happened to the younger daughter. You don’t know why Dorothy hid herself away for so long.”
“There are plenty of reasons to hide yourself away.” Aria thought of her own broken heart after Thaddeus, about her fears that she’d never be enough for anyone. “Life has a way of ripping you down. Maybe it just got to be too much, especially after all she’d lost.”
Logan tilted his head back, as though he wanted a new perspective on her. After a long pause, he said, “You’ve been a mystery to me since we met, Aria. It’s like you surprise me at every turn.”
Aria rolled her eyes, not sure whether she could trust him. “I’m sure I surprised you the most when I spilled all that coffee on you.”
“Sure. That was a big one.” He wet his lips, his eyes twinkling with the street lamps. “Can I kiss you?”
It was such a surprise that it took Aria’s breath away.
She nodded.
