Page 37 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

LOGAN

I return to the office, my hands clenched into fists in my pockets, anger and frustration coiling in my gut like a nest of vipers.

“Mr. Valeur.” My secretary tries to get my attention, her voice tentative, but I brush past her.

“Not now,” I say, striding into my office and slamming the door behind me, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the tense silence.

I fish the crumpled envelope with the tickets out of my pocket, the one I crushed into a tiny ball, and now toss it into the trash can with a flick of my wrist. Then I pick up the phone, my fingers stabbing at the buttons.

“Cancel the flight,” I bark into the receiver, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Cancel the concert tickets too?”

“Cancel everything,” I snap and hang up without waiting for a response. I drop my head into my hands, my elbows braced on my desk, and let out a shuddering breath.

The door bursts open, and Liam strides in. “Did I hear right? You’re taking a day off? Since when do you take vacations? I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“And you won’t.” I lift my head, my jaw clenched tight. “I just canceled everything.”

“No.” He collapses into the chair across from me, his brow furrowed. “Why did you cancel? Is there an emergency here? Something I need to know about?”

“Nothing like that.” I shake my head. “I just made a mistake about something. I thought I could be something I’m not. I should’ve known it would never happen.”

“You’re not making sense, Logan. Are you losing it?” Liam leans forward.

“I guess I am.” I swivel my chair around, turning my back to him. My heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest and stomped on by Sloane’s feet, and fuck, it hurts. It physically hurts.

A sharp, stabbing pain that takes my breath away. “Apparently, I am losing it.”

“Wait. You’re talking about a woman, right? It has to be. Is it Georgina? Is this about that picture of you two at the restaurant? Did you get back together with her?”

I turn back to him. “No,” I grit out, my hands curling into fists on my thighs.

“But it is about a woman.” He narrows his eyes, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Who?”

Fuck, how did he guess in under two minutes? “I don’t want to talk to you about it.”

“Okay, fine.” Liam holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “But if you want to talk to someone, maybe you should call Cora. She is the only woman in the family, after all, and she understands relationships. She doesn’t plan weddings for nothing.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I say. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Liam gets to his feet with a sigh, his eyes soft with sympathy. “Don’t be stubborn, Logan. Sometimes you need to know when to surrender.”

He leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him, and I’m left alone with my thoughts, a maelstrom of regret and longing and bitter self-recrimination.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should call Cora. Somehow, she always knows everything. It’s not for nothing that her business is so successful.

I pick up the phone again, my fingers hovering over the buttons for a long moment before I press the call button.

“Hey, Brother,” she answers on the second ring, her voice warm and familiar. “What advice do you need today?”

“How do you know that’s why I called?”

“You’re not exactly a chatterbox.” She laughs, the sound bright and carefree.

“You don’t call me just to chat like Liam does.

I know it’s not about Dad because then Liam would’ve updated me before you.

And it can’t be business because when you need advice on business, you make do with texting.

So, you need advice on something personal. I’m guessing...a woman?”

Fuck, she’s good. It’s a pity she doesn’t want to work at Valeur. I could use her sharp perception and uncanny insight.

“Want to come over for a cup of tea and a talk?” she asks, her voice gentle .

I hesitate for a long moment, pride warring with desperation. I’m not used to asking for help, to admitting weakness, but something tells me if anyone can understand, can guide me through this tangled mess of emotions, it’s Cora.

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “See you soon, Big Brother.”

Maybe, with Cora’s help, I can get what I want.

Who I want.

Even if it means risking everything.

I stand in front of the large window in Cora’s living room, staring out at the pool outside, my thoughts a tangled mess of regret and longing.

Cora sets a teapot and cups on the small table before taking a seat on the sofa. “So, are you going to talk to me, or are you going to stand there and brood all evening?” She arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Where’s your staff?” I abandon my vigil and sit across from her, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.

“They’ve all gone home for the day. We’re alone if that’s what you’re worried about.” She leans forward and pours hot water for both of us, the steam curling invitingly from the delicate cups. “I even canceled on Arlo for you.”

“Arlo?” I frown, the name unfamiliar.

“I’m seeing someone now. His name is Arlo, and he’s lovely.” She smiles, a soft, secret sort of smile that I’ve never seen on her face before.

“I’m happy for you, Peanut,” I say, and I mean it. “Is he good enough for you?”

She tilts her head, considering. “I don’t know. What do you consider good enough for me?”

“Heavenly goddess level,” I say, and Cora laughs, the sound bright and warm. “What? You look amazing. You’re a successful business owner, a member of a well-known family, brilliant, know everything about everything. It’s hard to measure up to you.”

“Thank you, I guess.” She shakes her head, still smiling. “But don’t say that to Arlo. You might scare him off.”

“If he’s scared off by me, then he’s not worth your time,” I say, my protective instincts flaring to life.

“Logan, everyone is scared of you,” she points out.

I watch her in silence as she prepares our tea, trying to gather my thoughts, to find the right words.

“I fucked up,” I say, the admission weighing heavy on my tongue.

“Of course you did. I didn’t think otherwise.” She lifts her head and grins at me, her eyes soft with understanding.

“Why is that so obvious?”

“Because otherwise, you wouldn’t be desperate enough to come here and talk to me.” She hands me a cup, the porcelain warm against my palm.

I take a sip of the scalding liquid, welcoming the burn. “I didn’t think I was that bad of a brother.”

“You’re not a bad brother, you just don’t like to share your life with us. You’re very closed off. But I’m glad you came. Start from the beginning. And don’t leave out any details.” She settles back in the cushions, her full attention on me.

I tell her about Sloane, about London, about our time together. “I’m going crazy. I can’t get through a day without thinking about her. I miss our conversations, even her silly chatter.” The words spill out of me like a flood, a torrent of pent-up emotion.

Cora gets up and moves to the seat next to me, placing her hand on my knee. “Logan, you’re in love.”

I shake my head, denial rising, swift and sharp. “It’s not love.”

“You wouldn’t recognize love if it hit you in the head.” She laughs, squeezing my knee. “Honey, you just described to me exactly how it feels to be in love, point by point.”

I rub my face, my mind reeling. It can’t be. I can’t be in love. “Is that how you feel?” I ask, grasping for a lifeline, for something to make sense of the chaos in my head and my heart.

“Arlo and I aren’t there yet,” she says. “But when I was in love in the past, that’s exactly how I felt. Did you tell her this? Everything you just told me? She needs to hear the words.”

“I’m not in love,” I insist, but even to my own ears, the protest sounds weak, hollow.

“Okay.” She smirks, clearly not believing me. “But did you tell her you miss her? That you want to be with her?”

“I was planning to ask her on a date,” I admit, my heart clenching at the memory of the carefully laid plans, the hope that had filled me at the thought of a second chance. “I planned everything, thought of every detail to make sure she would give me a chance.”

“And did she agree? ”

“I didn’t get to ask. She’s seeing someone else.” The words taste like ashes in my mouth, bitter and acrid.

“No.” Cora’s eyes widen.

“Yes. I walked into her office, and she was on the phone with him. Asked him to come with her to the company gala, to go shopping with her for clothes. She’s already moved on.” I clench my jaw.

“Oh, Logan.” Cora wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug, her warmth and softness a balm to my battered soul.

I surrender to her embrace, hugging her back, the contact only reinforcing the lonely ache in my chest, the yawning emptiness that only one person can fill.

“So, she refused a date with you?” Cora asks, pulling back to look at me.

“I didn’t ask her.”

“Why?” She searches my face, her eyes sharp and assessing. “You’re giving up before even asking?”

“She’s seeing someone else, Cora.”

“But she doesn’t know you’re interested. She doesn’t know she has a choice. Give her the option to choose Logan. Go chase after your girl.” Cora grips my shoulders, her gaze fierce and determined. “Fight for her.”

I stare at my sister for a long moment, her words sinking in, taking root. She’s right.

Of course, she’s right.

I’ve been a coward, hiding behind my pride and my fear, letting my insecurities dictate my actions. But no more.

I’m Logan Fucking Valeur. I don’t give up. I don’t back down from a challenge. And I sure as hell don’t let the woman I want slip through my fingers without a fight .

I stand, nearly knocking over the tea table in my haste. “I have to go,” I say, my voice thrumming with newfound purpose.

Cora leaps to her feet, a grin splitting her face. “Yes! Go get her!” She pumps her fist in the air, her excitement palpable.

I lean down and press a quick, hard kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, Peanut. I owe you one.” I’m already moving toward the door, my mind racing ahead, plotting and planning.

“You owe me details!” she calls after me, laughter in her voice. “I want a full report!”

“You’ll be the first to know,” I promise, and then I’m out the door, my heart pounding, adrenaline singing in my veins.

I have a tuxedo to buy, a speech to prepare, and a woman to win.

And this time, I’m not taking no for an answer.