Текст книги "Moonlight on Nightingale Way"

Автор книги: Samantha Young

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He raised an eyebrow. “I’m famous?”

I smiled weakly, searching the room for Ellie, who had obviously put him up to this. I found her, but instead of looking gleeful to see James talking to me, she looked stricken. She shot a look across the room at Jo, who was shaking her head in annoyance at her.

What the hell was going on with that lot?

“Is something the matter?” James said, looking over his shoulder to follow my gaze.

“No, not at all. Braden mentioned your name earlier. That’s how I knew who you were.”

“Saying only good things, I hope?”

I felt uncomfortable, awkward for some reason, like the two of us were under a magnifying glass.

I did my best to hide the feeling. “Well, there was some mention of tax evasion and terrorism, but other than that…”

He grinned. “And can I ask what your name is?”

“Oh, it’s Grace.” I held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

His hand had just slid into mine when I felt this peculiar prickling sensation on the nape of my neck. Some instinct made me glance over my shoulder.

Logan stood in the doorway of the room, his eyes boring into me.

For a moment I was breathless as our gazes held across the room.

And then, just like that, he gave me that annoying chin nod of his before looking away. I followed him with my eyes as he strode across the room toward Braden. A number of other women followed him with their eyes as well. He cut quite the figure in his suit trousers and black shirt. He’d left the shirt open at the neck, and the sleeves were rolled up, displaying his tattoo.

“Do you know Logan?” James said, drawing my attention back to him.

I thought I did.

“Not very well.” I reached for my glass of champagne, suddenly not so very distracted from my worries.

“So what do you do, Grace?”

I let myself be carried away by the conversation, hoping that it would take me somewhere else for a while, but unfortunately it was too late. My chest ached so badly because I couldn’t manage to steer my thoughts away from either my mother, father, Sebastian, or Logan. The pain was only compounded when Logan came into my line of sight beyond James, and I saw him flirting with a pretty blond woman whose name I couldn’t remember.

I lowered my gaze, pretending to laugh at what the lawyer was saying. I didn’t know what he was saying. I could barely remember what he’d just said. There was a whooshing sound in my ears, and I felt like I was observing myself in this conversation from a distance.

I don’t know how I managed to last as long as I did, but suddenly the room was too warm, too loud, too everything. “I’m sorry,” I interrupted James. “Could you excuse me for just a minute?

Sorry.” I spun around and walked away, moving through the crowd in the main living area of the town house. The hallway was packed with people, too, but when I glanced upstairs, all was silent and dark.

I knew it was a little intrusive, but I needed some peace and quiet for a moment, and Joss had relayed to me that her children were with Jo and Cam’s and Nate and Liv’s, being looked after by Olivia’s father, Mick, and his wife, Dee. They’d been cracking jokes about the two of them being brave to take on six kids for the evening.

While no one was paying attention, I went upstairs onto the first floor. Light from the moon pouring in through the large window on the front of the house illuminated my way, and I hurried into the first room I came to.

I left the door open a crack, allowing a little light into the room, and shapes leapt out at me in the darkness.

It was the nursery for Joss and Braden’s youngest, Ellie. She was only one year old. I walked quietly over to her crib and saw the night-light on the dresser beside it. When I switched it on, pale blue stars began dancing around the walls of the room as the night-light spun slowly around. Noting the large comfy-looking chair in the corner by the window, I zeroed in on it and sat down to catch my breath.

I stared at the stars circling the room so far above my reach and suddenly felt a bit like a cat trying to catch a beam of light in its paw. Why did I keep doing this? I wondered. Why did I keep letting my parents do this to me? Hurt me like this.

A creak on the floorboard made my breath catch. The door opened slowly, and a tall figure slipped inside. A star of light caught his face, and I tensed.

“Grace?” Logan stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

He walked toward me, and my muscles grew more strained at his nearness. “You’re not fine. I was watching you downstairs. Something has happened.” He stopped a few feet from me, and I stared up at him.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it bloody matters,” he snapped, and took another step toward me. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Where’s Maia?” I said instead.

“With Shannon and Cole. Stop changing the subject.”

“My name isn’t Grace Farquhar,” I blurted out.

In the dim glow of light I saw his eyes narrow. “What the fuck?”

“I mean it is Grace, but it didn’t used to be. I used to go by Gracelyn Bentley. Only Aidan, Chloe, and Juno know that. Now you.”

“Grace,” he whispered, concern deep in his voice. “I don’t understand.”

“Have you heard of Gabriel Bentley?”

“The guy with the media empire?”

“Yes.” I don’t know why I was telling him. Perhaps I was a glutton for punishment – confiding in a man, seeking affection from him, when I knew there was no hope of its real return. “He’s my father, Logan.”

“Jesus,” he said hoarsely, and took another step toward me. “What…?”

“He was always busy, always working, never had time for me, only for Sebastian, whom he was grooming to take his place in the business. He was a little old-fashioned that way. I gather he never thought I’d be of much use in business because he never bothered with me.” I gave a huff of bitter laughter. “I wish my mother had been the same, but unfortunately her neglect came with a constant stream of criticism. I wasn’t a size zero. I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, witty enough, fashionable enough. I was boring. I was pathetic. I should never have been born.” My breath caught, remembering the day she’d said that to me. “I was never good enough, Logan. And I wish it didn’t still bloody well… hurt.” My voice cracked on the last word as tears spilled down my cheeks.

Suddenly Logan had lowered to his haunches in front of me, one hand on my knee, the other cupping my face as he stared at me with growing concern.

I shook my head, unable to stop the flow of tears or the feeling of being transported back to how I’d felt at twenty-one years old, when my whole world seemed to collapse around me. “I’m sorry.” I sobbed. “I just… I’m sorry.”

He pulled me toward him, and I buried my head in the crook of his neck, the pain that had been pressing on my chest pouring out of me as I cried. Logan’s hand tightened on my nape.

“You’re scaring me, babe,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me what’s going on. Please. Let me fix it.”

I shook my head and eased away from him, but he refused to let me go. “You can’t help.”

“Try me.” He cupped my face in both hands now, and his thumbs swiped gently at my wet cheeks.

Just like that I got lost in his eyes. “My parents were in the newspaper today. There hasn’t been a press release from them yet, but inside sources are saying that my mother has breast cancer. She’s fighting breast cancer.”

“Shit.” Logan eyes filled with sympathy. “They didn’t tell you.”

“They didn’t tell me,” I confirmed. “Clearly they don’t want me there. But do you want to know the truth?”

He nodded solemnly.

“I don’t even know if I want to be there for her. She made me feel worthless my whole life.

Between my father ’s indifference and her cruelty, I was a bit of a mess as a teenager. When I got to university Aidan suggested I talk to someone… a therapist. So I did. And it really helped. It really did.

So I thought when I went home I’d be able to cope better. But I made the mistake of taking my boyfriend home with me after I graduated. We’d met in my last year at school. I’d thought myself very much in love with him.” I remembered it. The utter soul-destroying pain of it. “I was supposed to be out meeting up with an old school friend. He stayed behind at the house. But my friend canceled, so I came home early…”

“Oh fuck,” Logan whispered, and I heard the empathy, the pain he felt for me.

“It’s such a cliché.” I swiped at my tears, throwing him a bitter smile. “The mother sleeping with her daughter ’s boyfriend. She told me afterward that she did me a favor. That he would never have stuck with me in the long run because I wasn’t good enough. She was saving me the heartbreak of getting in too deep with him. I was so enraged I told my father.”

Logan tensed.

“Yes. Vengeful little me. I wanted to ruin her. I wanted to take everything from her. But my dad didn’t care.” I shook my head, more tears welling up. “They’d been having affairs for years.

Sebastian was the one who told me. He spilled that as he acerbically told me to get my head out of my arse and in the real world. I was too soft, he said. I needed to grow up and grow a pair.

“I hated them. All of them. I hated the way they made me feel, and I hated that I wanted to hurt them for hurting me. I didn’t want to become like them.”

“So you left?” Logan said.

I nodded. “Left it all behind. Them, the money, and my name. I came back to Edinburgh and moved in with Aidan and a few other friends. I thought my family didn’t have the power to hurt me anymore. Turns out they do.” I gave a huff of incredulous laughter. “How wrong is it that I’m not sure I want to go to my possibly dying mother, but I want her to want me to?”

“It’s not wrong.” Logan pulled me close again. “It’s not wrong at all.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on for dear life as the old wounds were ripped open, bleeding more tears. “Why don’t they love me?” I whispered into his neck.

I felt Logan’s chest shudder against mine as his arms tightened around me. He gently tugged on my hair, pulling me back to look at me, and my heart stuttered at the sheen of emotion in his eyes. I found my tears slowing to halt at the blazing mix of anger, tenderness, and helplessness I saw in his gaze.

The whole world just disappeared.

Logan’s gaze dropped to my mouth and gently, slowly, he tugged my head to his and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss started soft, quiet, as though meant to comfort and soothe, but I was desperate to feel anything but the pain, and so I deepened the kiss, pushing for more.

Just like that we caught fire.

Our tongues stroked, our grips on each other grew desperate, bruising, and I was ready to tackle him to the floor.

And then my mother ’s words penetrated.

Logan’s rejection after we had sex followed quickly on its heels.

Remembering it, I found myself hating him a little. I pulled out of his hold, abruptly standing up.

He had to drop to a knee to stop himself from landing on his arse.

Staring down into his questioning eyes, I realized I didn’t hate him. I hated myself for allowing his sympathy to turn into more than he’d meant it to. “I never asked for that kind of pity.”

“Grace, it wasn’t pity. It was just a —”

“Mistake,” I finished for him. “You’re right. This was all a mistake.” I’d let another person into my heart and he couldn’t love me. He cared. I knew he cared. But it wasn’t love. It wasn’t what I needed.

My lip started to tremble, but I refused to give in to more tears. “Will you call me a cab?”

“I’ll take you home.”

I cut him a look that made the muscles in his jaw clench. “I don’t want to be around you right now.”

He reached for me, and I flinched back. Logan lowered his hand to his side in defeat. “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“I’ll be fine. If you call me a cab.”

I stayed upstairs while he did as I asked. He returned a few minutes later to tell me one was on its way and was close by. “Will you tell Joss I’m just not feeling well?”

He nodded, watching me carefully.

I hurried down the stairs, letting my hair fall forward, hiding my face from the guests in the hallway. I moved past them without looking at them and darted outside. Logan was right behind me.

“You shouldn’t be alone, Grace,” he said as I strode down onto the pavement to wait for the cab I could see approaching up the hill.

I glanced over my shoulder at Logan, who looked surprisingly lost. “I’m not. I’m going to Aidan.”

His face darkened at my announcement. “Aidan?”

I didn’t answer. Instead the cab pulled over and I practically threw myself in it. “Raeburn Place,” I said quickly, thankful when the car pulled away from the curb.

The cab passed Logan as he stood on the pavement, his eyes filled with frustration and worry as they locked with mine. He mouthed my name.

I looked away and sank back against the seat.

“You all right?” the driver asked.

I realized I must look a fright with my tearstained cheeks and red eyes. I closed said eyes and said,

“I will be.”

And despite what an utterly heartbreaking, shitty day it had been, in a weird, twisted way, the reminder of Logan’s rejection had put steel back in my spine. I had to remember that I didn’t need Logan. I’d been perfectly fine without him before he came into my life.

I didn’t need my family. I’d gotten on better without them these last few years.

I just had to keep reminding myself of that.

I opened my eyes, thinking of the three people who always helped with the reminder.

A feeling of calm started to settle over me as the cab carried me toward Aidan and Juno. Slipping my hand into my purse, I pulled out my phone and rang Chloe.

“What’s up, chick?” she said chirpily.

“Can you meet me at Aidan’s?”

She was silent a moment. “What’s going on? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“Just meet me there?”

“Why? What’s going on?”

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the back passenger window, watching the city pass me by. “I just really need you right now. I need my family, yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

CHAP TER 17

T he only way I could avoid Logan completely was by camping out at Chloe’s flat. I’d dart home to get showered and changed when I knew he was working and then I’d go back to Chloe’s.

There were five missed calls on my phone from him, including a voice-mail message I couldn’t bring myself to listen to.

When Maia called, I picked up. I fed her some rubbish about Chloe having had an argument with Ed and I was keeping her company for a little bit, and I felt awful for lying. I think Maia knew. I tried to make up for my absence by chatting on the phone with her for ages, listening to her as she spun plans for her summer holidays, which were fast approaching.

I honestly thought that I was going to get away with my lie.

Poor naive me.

“So you and Dad had a fight, didn’t you?” Maia said abruptly upon the third night of my stay at Chloe’s.

I already felt guilty enough lying to her the first time. “It’s not just about that.”

“What did he do? I bet he didn’t mean it.”

“Maia, it’s not just about Logan and the differences we’re having at the moment. I’m just… I’m going through some stuff and… well… Chloe is to me what Logan is to you. I like being around her when I feel like this.”

“And that Aidan guy?” she said with so much suspicion I laughed.

“Yes, but that Aidan guy is just a friend. One of my best friends. He’s engaged, you know.”

“Hmm. So you say.”

I laughed again. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence, and I realized it was due to Maia plucking up the courage to say,

“Don’t you like Dad?”

Too much.

“It’s not that simple. Maia, I love you, but I can’t talk to you about this stuff. It’s between me and your dad.”

She was quiet again.

I bit my lip, worried I’d hurt her. “Maia, please under —”

“You love me?”

My heart squeezed at the whispered question. “Of course I do. It’s kind of hard not to. It’s really rather annoying how adorably lovable you are.”

She snorted, and the silence fell again. And then… “I love you, too, Grace.”

I smiled and then immediately felt like a coward and a bit of a shit for hiding out from Logan and thus avoiding Maia. “You know what? I’ll be home tomorrow. You should come over for dinner.”

“Just me though, right?” she said dryly.

Remembering those first few weeks when Logan and Maia had spent all their free time in my kitchen, I felt a wince of regret. “That would be best.”

We talked a little more about other things, mostly about how Layla wasn’t talking to Maia because Maia called her a gossip and how now poor Leigh was stuck in the middle. As I listened to her blather on, I once again assumed I’d escaped any more Logan conversations.

But the last thing Maia promised before she hung up was, “I’m going to make you like him again.”

I was walking up the stairwell the next afternoon, having just dropped off Mr. Jenner ’s shopping for him, when Logan suddenly appeared, hurrying down the stairs toward me. He halted when he saw me, his expression blank.

And then he gave me an abrupt nod and started to move quickly past me. I turned, frowning.

Although I’d known things would be uneasy between us, the reality of it was quite different. I didn’t like it. “Are you all right?” I called after him.

He stopped again and looked back at me. “I got a call from the school. Maia is in trouble.”

Worry whooshed through me, making me momentarily forget the awkwardness of being in Logan’s company. “What do you mean?” I started down the stairs after him.

“Are you coming?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“It’s Maia.”

He nodded, and I hurried out of the building after him. As we walked, he talked. “The history teacher has been accused of having an affair with a married colleague. The rumors are all over the school, and they think Maia started them.”

Anger and disbelief coursed through me. “Oh, I think we both know who started them.” Logan met my gaze, and we stated in unison, “Layla.”

The rest of the walk to the school was completely silent and incredibly tense. I knew Logan was furious that anyone would attempt to pin a “crime” on Maia when she wasn’t the one responsible, and I was trying to work out how I could contain his anger so he didn’t inadvertently get himself and Maia in more trouble.

When we got to the school, the headmaster, a Mr. Bruce, almost didn’t let me in his office because I wasn’t family, but Logan did that deadpan-staring thing that intimidated a person into doing almost anything he wanted them to do. We strode inside Mr. Bruce’s office only to discover Maia sitting, pale and anxious. Beside her was a petulant Layla, and standing across from them was a redhead in her late thirties and a guy around my age. Our eyes caught and met for a moment, his expression turning from brooding to arrested as his gaze washed over me.

“Layla’s parents can’t get out of work,” Mr. Bruce said as he followed us in and shut the door. He marched around to his desk and sat down, gesturing to us to take the other empty seats in the room.

“So we shall commence. Mr. Tatum, Mrs. Rogers, this is Mr. MacLeod, Maia’s father and his erm…

friend Miss Farquhar. I’ve asked you here because there is a vicious rumor circulating the school community that Mr. Tatum and Mrs. Rogers have been involved in an extramarital affair on school grounds. We all know the rumor to be a repugnant lie started by an irresponsible student. Layla has named Maia as the culprit, and as you can guess, Maia has labeled Layla the culprit. In order to satisfy some very uneasy parents, I need the student responsible to issue an apology. They will also receive a suspension. If I don’t get to the truth today, I will suspend both Layla and Maia. Am I clear?”

I glanced at Maia, who was staring at her feet, looking like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Layla was staring at her cuticles as though bored out of her mind.

Shifting my attention, I looked over at the two teachers in question. On closer inspection Mrs.

Rogers was attractive, and Mr. Tatum definitely was. It was clear to me why shallow little Layla had chosen these two as her victims. My gaze met Mr. Tatum’s again, and I found myself directing my words to him. “I’m a good friend of the family and I know Maia well. In fact, only a few weeks ago, while she was having dinner with me, she mentioned Layla had imagined there was something going on between yourself and Mrs. Rogers. Concerned, I asked if it were true and Maia said of course not, that Layla was just bored and inventing drama. I asked Maia not to repeat the rumor, and she promised that she would not. I believed her and I still do.”

Mr. Tatum nodded gravely at me. “I’m inclined to believe her too.” He looked at Mr. Bruce.

“Layla has demonstrated inappropriate behavior around me and has been warned. I noted it and made sure management was aware of it.”

“Maia’s behavior of late hasn’t been great though,” Mrs. Rogers added.

“It’s been getting better again,” Mr. Tatum disagreed. “And I’ve noticed friction between the girls in my class.”

“You’ve got it in for me, Mr. Tatum.” Layla narrowed her eyes on him.

“Quiet,” Mr. Bruce said sternly. “Layla, were you the one who started the rumor? If you admit it, I’ll cut the length of your suspension.”

“Layla, please,” Maia suddenly said. “Tell the truth.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “You’re such a boring bitch lately.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Logan interjected, and Layla flinched at the warning in his voice.

He held her gaze, his expression fierce, and it seemed someone was able to pierce that indolent arrogance of hers. She blushed and bit her lip, looking down at her feet just as Maia had done a moment ago.

“Layla?” Mr. Bruce said.

She refused to speak.

He gave a weary sigh. “Then I have no recourse but to punish both girls.”

I clamped a hand down on Logan’s arm, anticipating his reaction. Putting pressure on his arm, I forced him to be quiet without saying a word. “Perhaps we can work something else out that’s a little more fair.”

“Fair?” Mrs. Rogers snapped. “I had to explain this nonsense to my husband.”

“I know Maia wasn’t involved,” I told her. “So if she’s to be punished, I want to make sure it’s not a suspension that blackens her school record.”

“What are you suggesting?” Mr. Tatum said, seeming willing to hear me out.

“It’s the end of school. Isn’t there an event that they could volunteer to work on?”

There was silence as they mulled it over. Mr. Tatum looked at the headmaster. “There is the end-of-term service… but I have something else in mind.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Rogers wore an annoyed expression, as though pissed off he was contemplating my idea.

“Next semester I’ll be hosting the fund-raiser for Armistice Day in November. It’s always a stressful event for me on top of my work… so why don’t I just leave it to these two ladies to organize it for me?”

“But —”

Mr. Tatum held up a hand to cut off Rogers’s coming complaint. “If they screw it up, the suspension still stands.”

I looked over at Maia and Layla. “How does that sound?”

Maia nodded glumly.

Layla glowered at me. “How do you think it sounds?”

“Attitude,” Mr. Bruce warned. “If Mrs. Rogers agrees, then this will be your punishment.”

We all looked at the teacher in question. She glared back at us but eventually nodded.

Logan shook the headmaster ’s hand and then the teachers’, thanking them. Maia sidled up to me and clasped my hand. “Always saving the day,” she whispered to me.

I squeezed her hand. “I’d do anything for you.”

She smiled cheekily and then looked pointedly at her dad. “Anything?”

I groaned. “Almost anything.”

We were heading out of the office when Logan caught up with us, Mr. Tatum at his side. The teacher immediately held out a hand to me. “It was nice to meet you.”

Our eyes met and held again, and I felt a little zing of attraction. “You too. Thank you for being so fair.”

“I don’t believe Maia had anything to do with it.”

“Nice, Mr. T.,” Layla snapped at him as she strode past us, eating up the ground with her long legs.

“I guess we’re not friends anymore!” Maia called after her sarcastically.

Logan put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “She was never a very good one anyway, Maia.”

“Um… do you have a minute to talk privately?” Mr. Tatum suddenly asked me.

I could feel Logan’s and Maia’s eyes burning into mine. “Uh… Yeah, sure.” I looked back at them.

Maia was glowering. Logan’s expression was carefully blank. “I’ll catch up with you.”

Logan had to budge Maia to get her to move, and as soon as they were out of earshot, I turned to Mr. Tatum, curiosity written all over my face.

He grinned, a boyishly charming smile that I had to admit I liked a lot. He didn’t look a thing like Logan, and I decided I also liked that fact. “Maia’s a good kid. I get the impression she’s been through quite a bit. She talks about you and her dad a lot.”

I smiled softly. “She’s a very special person.”

He nodded. “She thinks the same of you. That’s why I know your name is Grace and you are a freelance book editor.”

I laughed. “What else has she been telling you?”

“Apparently you make good homemade pizza.”

“I do,” I agreed with mock arrogance.

He chuckled. “She said nothing of your modesty, however.” He cleared his throat. “Look, I hope you don’t think this is forward, but I’ve written an historical fiction novel that I’d like to send out on query to a few publishers, and I was wondering if I could hire you to edit it before I do.”

Surprise moved through me at the request. I honestly hadn’t known why he’d asked me to stay back with him, but for some reason that had been the last thing on my mind. “Oh… um… I have a pretty tight schedule at the moment, but why don’t you give me your e-mail address and I can send you some recommendations for other editors?”

He looked disappointed but nodded. “Sure. I understand. Thank you. I’ll give you my number instead.”

I rummaged through my purse for my phone. “Okay. And thank you again for helping me out back there, Mr. Tatum.”

“It’s Patrick,” he corrected with a soft smile that definitely verged on flirtatious. He rattled off his number to me once I had my phone in hand. “Call me so your number will come up on my phone and I’ll know who you are.”

I did as he said.

“You do know that was just a cheap ploy to get your number, right?” He grinned mischievously at me.

My lips parted. “What? Even the ‘I’ve written a book part’?”

“No. That part was true. But if I can’t get to know you while you edit my book, I’d really like to get to know you over a coffee or something.” His smile widened at my surprised expression. “Think about it. Please.” Patrick glanced at his watch and sighed. “I’m taking detention today, so I need to go.”

He started walking backward, smiling at me the whole time in a way that left no doubt that he was flirting. After the last few days, it was a very nice feeling to be found attractive. “I’ll await your call, Grace.”

I waved my phone at him and spun around, grinning from cheek to cheek as I strode down the hallway.

It was funny how that giddy feeling completely evaporated as soon as I caught up with Logan and Maia on the Meadows. There was an awkward silence upon my approach, and I knew Maia was desperate to ask me what her history teacher wanted with me.

“Why weren’t you at work?” I said to Logan, diverting the conversation immediately.

“I’m working tonight.”

“Do you want Maia to come to me?”

“Nope.”

“Who is looking after her, then?”

“I don’t need looking after,” Maia huffed.

“Shannon,” Logan said.

“How is Shannon?”

“Fine.”

I shivered at the chill Logan was giving off. I felt like we were meeting all over again. However, his monosyllabic, gruff way with me was even more unpleasant this time around.

I thought of Patrick, who actually seemed attracted to me. Maybe Aidan was right after all. Maybe there really was hope.

Upon our return to Nightingale Way, Maia followed me into my flat and Logan disappeared into his own.

“What did Mr. Tatum want?” Maia said immediately.

I wrinkled my nose at her. “You really are getting very nosy.”

“Well?”

“Maia.”

“Dad’s upset.”

I huffed. “Not about that, I assure you.”

“You know, for a smart lady, you can be pretty dumb.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. “Watch it.”

It was her turn to wrinkle her nose. “You can’t date my history teacher, Grace.”

“If you must know, Mr. Tatum asked me for a favor.” I slumped down onto my armchair and stared up at her as she glared down at me in irritation. I tried to keep my tone gentle. “But if Mr.

Tatum was to ask me on a date, or if anyone was for that matter, it will be up to me whether or not I decide to say yes. Maia, I’m not stupid. I know you’re hankering after something to happen between your dad and me, but it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry.”

Tears sprang into her eyes, making me feel guilty as hell.

“Maia.” I stood up, but she’d already spun on her heel and dashed out of my flat.

I heard the slam of Logan’s front door and slumped back in my chair, wishing my life weren’t so freaking complicated and that I didn’t care so damn much about one fifteen-year-old girl and her annoying father.

CHAP TER 18

I t would suffice to say that I could not get to sleep that night. I tossed and turned for hours, until eventually I gave in and got up to do some work.

At around four in the morning I was in my sitting room stretched out on the couch with my laptop, working on Joss’s manuscript. I was having the best time with it. The lady knew how to bloody well write a good book. This was when my job was amazingly fun, because I got to read a great book and then advise on little things that I thought might help make it greater.

I was lost in Joss’s compelling heroine and whether a scene she’d written that let the reader dive a little deeper into the heroine’s psyche should perhaps be brought forward in the plot so the reader could connect with her a little faster, when —

BANG! BANG! BANG!

I jolted up on the couch, my laptop almost sliding off of my lap at the sound of a fist banging on my front door. Wary, I got up, placing my computer aside, and hurried down the hallway on tiptoe. I peeked out of the peephole, and my heart leapt into my throat.

I unlocked the door, yanking it open to reveal Maia standing there in her pajamas with hair disheveled and face pale. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”