Page 32 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

His face froze into a mask. She couldn’t read any emotion in his eyes or expression. “If that’s how you feel.” He shrugged as though it was the most trivial matter, as though he didn’t give a damn one way or the other. Maybe he didn’t.

“It is.” Her voice was wooden, empty. “Naturally, you can still be a part of the baby’s life.”

A mocking smile curved his lips. “Naturally.”

Tears threatened her vision and she blinked, forcing them back. Her nails dug into her palms. “I’ll stay on at LM until I can find something else.” She took a breath. “I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday. If you’d like to come, I can give you directions.”

He nodded. “Fine.”

Just like that, they were strangers again.

Claire’s life was unraveling like a jumbo-sized ball of yarn.

Last night, her sleep had been plagued by images of yarn balls unwinding and tangling, trapping her inside their cloying strands.

At four a.m., she finally threw back the covers, showered and drove to work before the sun even capped the horizon.

Thankfully, LM was a ghost town at six in the morning and she flew in under the radar, earning nothing more than a mildly surprised look from the night watch staff.

But now a quick glance at her watch confirmed the time. Eight o’clock on the button. Her admittedly depressing solitude was about to come to an abrupt halt. She didn’t know if she should feel upset or relieved.

As if on cue, Jamie swished into the office, closing the door at her back with a loud click.

She wore a red plaid skirt that barely had a hemline and matching leather boots that went up to her knees.

Her red hair had become blonde in Claire’s absence, and her fingernails had gone from fuchsia to pink.

“Claire. You’re back.” She clapped her hands together. “I’m so glad you decided not to leave.” She paused, approaching Claire’s desk. “How was your vacation, by the way? It was kind of sudden.”

“Yes.” Claire forced herself to smile. “I’m sorry about that, but I really needed to get away for a little while.”

Her assistant raised a dyed blonde brow. “So where did you go? How was it?”

Claire had known she would pry for information. With both Claire and Logan gone suddenly in the same week, rumors were bound to begin swirling. “It was nice,” she offered noncommittally, not really wanting to tell Jamie the truth, but not wanting to lie to her either.

Jamie leaned on the front of Claire’s desk, her eyes narrowing. She sensed a story and Claire knew it. After working together for so many years, she knew Claire well. Probably too well.

“You should have heard the rumors flying around this place while you were gone,” Jamie said, her tone knowing.

“Really?” She didn’t want to know about the rumors. They were likely all true. The last person in the world she wanted to think about right now was Logan. She’d been very good at keeping her mind off him since arriving at work.

True, when she parked in the garage, she had thought of him, and then again walking into work, then again in the elevator. But ever since she’d turned on her laptop and started wading through the emails clogging her inbox, she hadn’t thought of him once. Okay, maybe once. But definitely not twice.

Jamie nodded, gaining momentum by Claire’s feigned interest. There was little, after all, she liked more than gossip and fingernail polish. “You wouldn’t believe the things they were saying. Everyone thought that since you and King Monroe took off the same week that you were together.”

Claire felt as if she were choking. “Oh?”

She hated that she had to keep her relationship—or what remained of that relationship—with Logan a secret.

She wanted, almost desperately, to send an email copied to all LM employees announcing she was having Logan Monroe’s child.

The hell with his business reputation, the hell with good sense.

She would never understand how he could be so cold, so remote, so unfeeling.

After they had come so far, he was willing to turn their relationship back into one of bland disinterest. It crushed her to think of it.

Jamie rolled her eyes, apparently oblivious to Claire’s turn of thoughts.

“Of course, I knew you weren’t with King Monroe.

Irene from Client Services said she saw you making out with him in your car two weeks ago, but everyone knows she lies about everything.

I mean, she told the whole office she lost twenty-five pounds on that bean soup and lemon juice cleanse thingy but she looks exactly the same.

If anything, she gained weight. Did you see the outfit she’s wearing today?

She looks like a hotdog stuffed into a miniskirt.

God, and to think Todd from Accounting actually dumped me for that skank.

” Jamie paused in the middle of her heated diatribe, looking at Claire. “Are you okay?”

Claire nodded, then the tears burst forth, the floodgates opening. “No.”

All the pent-up emotions from yesterday, the emotions she had refused to either acknowledge or vent, released. Fat, wet tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping onto the keyboard of her laptop. She was dimly aware of Jamie skirting the desk and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“Claire?” Jamie’s voice was hesitant. “What’s the matter?”

Claire took a shuddering breath. “Nothing.” But she continued to cry, making a lie of her own words. She couldn’t seem to help herself. An image of the giant yarn balls that had terrorized her dreams rose before her.

“It’s not…is something wrong with the baby?” Jamie’s voice grew increasingly worried.

“No.” Claire shook her head vehemently. “No. The baby is fine. I’m fine. I’m not feeling very well. Maybe I should go h-home.”

“Are you sure that’s it?”

She met Jamie’s troubled gaze. It would feel so good, would be such a relief, to tell her assistant the truth. “Not really,” she whispered.

“You know you can tell me anything,” Jamie said softly, grabbing a tissue and handing it to Claire.

Claire blew her nose. “It’s Logan’s baby,” she divulged suddenly, before she could change her mind.

“What?” Jamie’s shocked voice echoed in Claire’s office. She sank her bottom down onto the edge of Claire’s desk as though she could no longer support herself. “Are you telling me that King Monroe is the father of your baby?”

“Yes.” Claire proceeded to reveal the entire, sordid story that was her recent life history through crying-induced hiccups. When she finished, she blew her nose again. “And now, it’s like there was never anything between us. I keep thinking about it, and with the pregnancy, I’m so emotional.”

“I understand.” Jamie patted her consolingly. “Wipe your eyes and take a minute to compose yourself. I’ll create a distraction and you can leave. If the King asks for you, I’ll tell him you’re sick. How does that sound?”

“Like a good plan,” Claire admitted, giving Jamie a tremulous smile.

Jamie winked. “Give me a minute and I’ll see what I can do.”

When she turned to leave, Claire called out her name. Jamie looked back at her askance. “You’re the world’s best assistant, Jamie, and a really great friend,” she said, meaning every word of it.

Jamie gave her a smile. “I know. And don’t think I’m above hitting you up for a raise.”

A week had passed since Claire and Logan had ended their relationship.

It felt more like a year.

But she was valiantly trying to keep from thinking of it, throwing herself into everything she could possibly think of instead.

Already, she’d learned to knit and crochet.

She had a yellow baby blanket, matching cap and booties to show for that effort.

She’d also prepared a dynamite Creative presentation for the restaurant chain Johnson’s, ready for next Monday’s meeting with their representatives.

She and Garrett had met over dinner and amicably agreed to divvy up the rest of their belongings.

Now she was immersed in helping Sophie and Trevor move into their new house.

And trying to forget the fact that after today, she would actually be completely alone in every sense of the word.

“Claire, can you hand me that box?”

Claire looked at the sea of boxes surrounding her, then shot Sophie a pointed glance. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

Sophie smiled, her royal-blue eyes twinkling. Her brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and even in her maternity dress, she looked adorable. “The one that’s marked kitchen .”

Claire found the box her sister referred to and lifted it easily into her arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The deep, masculine voice had Claire turning in surprise to find Trevor’s good friend, Marcus Wesley, entering the kitchen, boxes in hand.

Marcus had been the best man in Sophie and Trevor’s wedding.

Claire had been the matron of honor. Marcus was, in a word, gorgeous. Not to mention devastatingly charming.

Claire found herself smiling at him. “Handing Soph this box.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Effortlessly, he lowered the boxes he was carrying to the polished wood of the kitchen floor. “No lifting for either of you.” He reached out and took the box from Claire’s hands. “The boss says so.”

“That’s right, I do,” Trevor chimed in as he strode into the disarray of the kitchen.

He slid his arms around Sophie’s waist and kissed her so lingeringly Claire had to look away.

“Sweetheart, I need to borrow you for a couple minutes. Marcus and I were trying to arrange the furniture in the bedroom, but I’m afraid we weren’t very successful. Come tell me where things belong.”

He grabbed Sophie’s hand and began tugging her from the room. Sophie rolled her eyes at Claire. “Men. I have no idea how they’d live without us.”

Marcus pretended to shudder. “I don’t even want to think about a world without women.”