Page 37 of Logan

Still, I prefer his company over wandering alone all day. Being alone at home is bearable, but being alone on a trip in London, with no one to share the experiences with, made me feel so...lonely.

And I don’t feel lonely when I’m with Logan.

I glance at him again.

He pulled out the chair for me when we reached the table. I can’t remember the last time a man did something like that for me. Probably never.

Logan stares at his plate and moves the fork around the food.

Book boyfriends aren’t supposed to care about what they eat or their weight, and they’re supposed to be thrilled that the woman they’re with loves to eat and doesn’t order a salad, but he’s not touching his food and doesn’t seem impressed by my food choices either.

Shit. He probably thinks I’m a big fat pig. I try to slow my pace and appear more graceful, but I’m just too hungry. I’ve already consumed half a bottle of wine from the stress, and my head is spinning. I should stop, especially since Logan looks completely sober.

I take another sip.

“I’m sorry I said you were grumpy earlier. I’m just so nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Because... Because...you’re you.”

He tilts his head. “You said you weren’t afraid of me.”

“Not exactly afraid, but I keep thinking I’m going to do something stupid and you’ll fire me, and I love working at Valeur. They appreciate me there. And then, from being so stressed about you firing me, I end up doing stupid things that’ll get me fired.” I fall silent or try to, but my mouth just won’t quit. “See, I babbled again.”

“I’m not going to fire you. I’m glad you like working for us. You’re the star employee.”

“Even star employees get fired if they insult the boss.”

“I’m not easy to insult. Believe me, I’ve heard it all.”

“I’m sure...” I mutter. He must be aware of the rumors about him. His nicknames. But that doesn’t mean he’s not offended.

I’m sure he has a heart in there somewhere.

“What about dinner tomorrow?”

“What about it?”

“What if I babble from the stress, and say something inappropriate, and ruin the meeting?” I fidget with my napkin, twisting it between my fingers. “You won’t fire me even then?”

Logan leans forward, his intense gaze meeting mine. “I won’t fire you under any circumstances. We’ve already agreed on that.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I’m still terribly nervous.”

“Okay.” He sits back, his brow furrowed in thought. “What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?” He sets down his fork with a soft clink against the plate.

An idea sparks in my mind. “Maybe if I get to know you better? If you tell me more about yourself?”

“Like what?” He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry, and try to think of something. “Let’s play the game twenty-one questions. Each one takes a turn thinking of a question, and the other answers honestly. No lying allowed.”

His piercing blue gaze fixes on me, unreadable as always. He’s a master at hiding emotions—if he even has any. Have I gone too far?

“I won’t tell anyone what you tell me. What happens in London stays in London. Promise.” I cross my fingers, holding them up for him to see.

A moment of silence stretches between us before he nods. “Alright. Ask me whatever you want.” He folds his arms across his broad chest, the fabric of his suit straining.