Page 38 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SLOANE

I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I finish applying moisturizer, my lips twisting into a wry smile.

“It’s fine. I don’t care that he’s going to show up with that gorgeous blonde, and they’ll canoodle right in front of my face.” I narrow my eyes and scold my image.

Damn it, Sloane, stop thinking about him. You said you’d give Johnny a chance, so get The Sexy Dark Lord out of your thoughts.

Why did I agree to a date with Johnny? I think I made a mistake. I conjure up his image in my mind’s eye and try to summon the butterflies of excitement.

Nothing. Not even a damn flicker.

I bring up Logan’s image instead, and the butterflies erupt in full force, a riotous swarm in my stomach. Logan between my legs, his head buried in the apex of my thighs. Logan kissing me, his lips hot and demanding against mine, his tongue plundering my mouth like he wants to devour me whole.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the traitorous thoughts. My body is clear about who it prefers, who it craves with every fiber of its being. But that choice doesn’t really exist.

A sharp knock at the door startles me, and I glance at the clock, my brow furrowing. Johnny isn’t supposed to pick me up for half an hour yet. Why is he so early?

I tie my robe around me and pad to the door. “Who is it?” I call out, my hand on the knob.

“I have a package for Sloan Harris,” a male voice responds, muffled through the wood. I open the door to find a uniformed delivery man holding a large box, an electronic clipboard in his other hand. I sign for the package.

He leaves with a nod, and I carry the box inside, peering at it. It’s smooth and unmarked, with no sender’s name or return address. How strange.

I set it on the coffee table and slit the tape with a nail, the flaps opening with a soft whoosh. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is a swath of rich fabric wrapped in crinkly paper emblazoned with a familiar brand name.

My eyes widen.

Could it be that Johnny sent me a dress? He’s never done anything like that before, never been the grand gesture type. I did tell him I needed a dress.

With trembling fingers, I remove the wrapped garment and hold it up in front of me, the paper falling away to reveal a dress that steals my breath.

I recognize the designer’s name. It’s a couture piece, the kind you see celebrities wearing on the Oscar red carpet, the kind that costs more than my rent for a year.

I lay it on the sofa, stepping back to take it in. It’s golden, and the lining is a soft, shimmering flesh tone, the fabric cut in intricate geometric patterns that reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin.

A daring cutout adorns the chest, and a sky-high slit runs up the leg, promising to show off my curves to devastating effect. It’s sexy and daring, but thanks to the sophisticated, artful design, it’s not revealing or trashy.

I can’t accept it, though. Johnny must have spent an absolute fortune on it. It’s too much, too extravagant for a first date after a year apart.

Almost against my will, I reach out and stroke the fabric with my fingertips, marveling at the buttery softness, and the exquisite craftsmanship. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, let alone touched. I hold it up against my body and look in the mirror.

Nothing will happen if I just try it on for a moment, just to see. It probably won’t even fit. My proportions are far from model-standard, and that will spare me the agonizing dilemma of whether to keep it.

Almost in a trance, I let my robe slip to the floor and step into the dress, the cool silk kissing my skin like a lover’s caress. I reach behind me to tug up the zipper, my breath catching as the garment molds itself to my body like it was made for me.

I stare at my reflection, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me. The dress is stunning and transformative. It clings to every curve, emphasizing my waist, my hips, and my breasts .

It fits like a dream, even on my ample chest, the cutout revealing just enough to tantalize without spilling over into tawdry.

I turn from side to side, admiring the way the light plays over the rich fabric, the way the slit shows off my toned leg, hinting at the secrets beneath.

How did Johnny get my exact measurements? I never thought of him as one of those men who pay attention to details like that, who even notice a woman’s size, let alone buy expensive, tailored gifts. He never bought me so much as a scarf when we were together, let alone a dress fit for royalty.

Maybe he has changed. I told him I didn’t have a suitable dress for the gala, and he got me one to make sure I would feel beautiful and confident. And here I was, being hard on him for no reason, assuming the worst.

The dress is breathtaking, a work of art. I’ve never felt so glamorous, so sexy and powerful and feminine.

I glance at my dress laid out on the bed, the one I bought, suddenly plain and unremarkable in comparison. Torn, I caress the lush fabric clinging to my curves.

I need to take it off and put it back in the box. That’s the right thing to do. I can’t keep it, can’t accept such an extravagant gift, especially not from a man I’m not even sure I want to be with.

But I can’t resist twirling around once more, peeking at my reflection in the mirror, my cheeks flushed and my eyes sparkling.

What’s the harm in wearing it just for tonight? Johnny must have put a lot of thought into picking this out for me. It would be rude not to wear his gift, especially when I agreed to give him another chance. If I’m trying to rebuild our relationship, I need to show him I appreciate his efforts.

I take a deep breath, smoothing my hands over the skirt one last time.

I’ll wear it.

I have a promise to keep to myself and to Johnny. Today, I need to give him a fair chance, an honest shot to win back my trust and my heart.

Even if a part of me, a treacherous, desperate part, wishes it was another man waiting for me, another set of eyes I was hoping to dazzle tonight.

But that’s just a silly, impossible dream, and I can’t let it distract me from reality. From giving Johnny, giving us, a genuine chance.

I can do this. I will do this.

Even if it breaks my heart.

“Hey,” I say with a smile as I open the door, smoothing my hands over the skirt of the dress.

“Hey.” Johnny leans in to kiss me, but I turn my head, allowing him to only brush my cheek.

“You look amazing.” His eyes skim over me.

“Thanks.” I narrow my eyes, trying to read his expression. “So, you like the dress on me?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful. As always.” He grins, offering me his arm.

Beautiful, but not stunning? Not “I knew it would look perfect on you” or “I’m so glad you’re wearing my gift”? I study his face, searching for any hint that he’s pleased to see me in the dress he chose. Maybe he’s just playing it cool, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

I take his hand, and we walk to his car.

We arrive at the banquet hall after a short drive, and the valet takes Johnny’s keys, but not before Johnny gives him detailed instructions on how to take care of the car.

I glance around. I don’t think the young guy will be too concerned about the sedan when a Lamborghini pulls up behind us and one of the senior managers emerges from it.

A red carpet greets us, and I receive a flower and a gold-embossed card with my name and table number. The invitation said black tie, but I didn’t imagine they’d invest so much in a company event.

I hold on to Johnny’s arm and plaster a smile on my face as we walk through the doors. Heavy burgundy curtains cover the windows, giant chandeliers illuminate the space, and there’s even a real band playing.

I don’t know why I’m so tense. It’s just a social event and nothing more. No one here is judging my future, and there’s no presentation for me to give to the managers.

I hurry to snatch a champagne glass from a passing server’s tray. The evening will go more smoothly if I have a drink or two.

The place buzzes with people, and I nod and smile at familiar faces from the office, but my eyes don’t stop searching for him.

“Emery!” I wave to her from across the hall, and she hurries over until we meet in the middle and hug.

“Get us some drinks?” she asks Johnny .

“Sloane already has champagne.”

“Yeah, but not a margarita, that’s her favorite. Bring us both one?”

He twists his face but leaves us and heads to the bar.

“So, you brought Johnny,” she says the moment he’s out of earshot.

She says nothing beyond stating a fact, but her tone makes it clear what she thinks of the idea.

“I didn’t want to come alone.”

“You’re back together, then?”

“No. I agreed to a date, that’s all.” Just so I wouldn’t be alone when Logan shows up with someone else, and I won’t feel humiliated to the core. But where is he?

Emery keeps shooting me looks.

“Just spit out what you have to say already,” I grumble.

“You already know my opinion. I wouldn’t take his skinny ass back. But you brought him here, to your work event, and you’re going to introduce him to all your colleagues, so looks like you’ve already decided.”

Already decided? No, no. I haven’t decided anything. I hope Johnny didn’t misunderstand something like that from my invitation. Is that why he’s so happy to come to the event? Is that what he understood from this invitation? That we’re together again? Shit.

“I—”

“Here are the margaritas you requested.” Johnny appears behind me, handing us both glasses of a cold, red-colored drink. “At least they have quality whiskey here, not being stingy.”

“You think it’s a good idea for you to drink? You drove us here. ”

“Nonsense. It was just one drink.” He smiles and wraps his arm around my waist.

I struggle to suppress my automatic flinch reaction. His touch, his smile, evokes nothing in me. I don’t think this is working.

I take a sip of the drink and then another one. I’ll need a few of these to get through tonight.

“I need a moment of your time.” The voice behind me makes my stomach clench, and I turn my head to meet the all-too-familiar icy eyes.

“I’m busy,” I point to Emery and Johnny.

Emery’s eyes widen.

The muscle in Logan’s jaw tightens. “I won’t take up much of your time.”

“Go,” Emery whispers, looking shocked that I dared to argue with the boss. “I’ll be here with Johnny in the meantime.”

Logan’s eyes narrow. “Now.”

“Fine. I’m coming.”

He turns and starts walking away, his strides long, and I almost have to run to keep up with his pace.

A gorgeous woman stops us on the way.