Page 7 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

By lunchtime, Claire had the worst headache she’d ever had in her life.

Between leg cramps and thoughts about Logan, she’d gotten a disturbingly small amount of sleep.

Their argument had stressed her out enough, but then she’d gone over Logan’s words repeatedly and she had to acknowledge he was partially correct.

She was trying to avoid the topic of Logan with Garrett, just as she was trying to avoid Logan and LM.

With a sigh, she tapped out an email to a member of her Creative Team and hit the send button.

Still, at least she knew what she wanted.

Mostly. She’d been miserable with Garrett for so long that she felt freer, happier now than she’d been for as long as she could remember.

When it came to Logan Monroe, things weren’t nearly so black and white.

Physically, she was more attracted to him than she’d ever even believed possible.

Emotionally, she knew that distance between them would serve her best. Her shameless response to him last night was ample proof of that.

Make that lots and lots of distance.

Claire turned back to her laptop and pulled up a file containing her most recent and probably last account. The product was a sugar substitute and so far, the proposal she had from her Creative Team was “It’s like sugar, only better.” Not very promising.

Double sigh.

She had to transform it somehow before she left LM.

Claire despised loose ends. She’d been the kind of kid who colored every white spot on the page of her coloring book before moving on to the next picture.

It had driven Sophie nuts. But her sister had been a blossoming artist even then, and it hadn’t taken Sophie long to figure out that a totally blank sheet of paper was more her speed.

Claire, on the other hand, needed lines to fill in and trace. Guidelines.

Abruptly, her office door clicked open and Jamie popped her head inside, a cheerful smile brightening her face. “Ready for lunch?” her bubbly voice matched her smile.

Claire frowned. “I’d love to but I’m really swamped right now.”

Jamie made a face at Claire, stepping completely into the office and closing the door behind her. “Claire Morton, you know you need to feed that baby. You’re too skinny, if you ask me. What you need is—”

“To get my work done.” Claire aimed a pointed glance at the cluttered mound that was her desk. “I packed a lunch, Jamie, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Jamie didn’t leave her in peace like a nice, biddable personal assistant would do. Instead, she crossed the room with a determined air and stopped before Claire’s desk, clicking her cherry-red nails on the glass surface.

Claire attempted to ignore her. She mentally counted to ten, then concentrated on the slogan for the sugar substitute, repeating it in her head to drown out the sound of Jamie’s happily clacking nails.

Click. Click. Click.

Finally she gave in and looked up at Jamie with what she hoped was a foreboding glower. “You know I hate that noise.”

That earned her a smug grin. “I know, and if you don’t come with me to lunch, I’ll stand here doing it for, oh,” she consulted her watch, “the next hour, at least.”

Claire tried a last resort. “I could fire you, you know.”

Jamie tilted her head, considering Claire’s words for a brief moment. “You could, but you won’t. You could never fire me, since you like me too much. Besides, you’re leaving in two weeks anyway.”

Claire gave a resigned sigh and rose from her chair. “You don’t play fair.”

Jamie flashed her a wink and stopped tapping her nails on the desk. “You never get your way if you play fair.”

“True,” Claire allowed as she retrieved her purse. “Sad, but true.”

They headed to The Blue Room, a swanky restaurant that rented out the ground level of the building that housed LM.

Claire’s tension began to drain away as she and Jamie entered the lobby outside the restaurant.

It was difficult to be anything but relaxed when ensconced in the soothing décor of The Blue Room.

The entire place was, as its name suggested, done up in shades of blue, from its sky-blue walls to the indigo table linens.

Even the fountain in the center of the restaurant boasted a faded blue Romanesque statue and blue tiles.

Elise, the hostess, approached them with a smile. She was a Penn college student who always worked the lunch hour and had come to recognize most of the LM staff.

“Hi, Claire, Jamie.” Elise paused and sent a less-than-subtle wink in Jamie’s direction. “Right this way.”

Claire’s instincts screamed that something was afoot. And if her recent luck, or lack thereof, held true, it was something Claire wouldn’t like.

Claire placed a hand on Jamie’s arm, pausing. “Is there something you want to tell me? Am I missing something?”

“No.” Jamie smiled patiently and gave Claire a gentle tug forward. “Come on. The girls are already waiting for us.”

That made Claire’s suspicion heighten to new levels. “The girls? I thought it was just you and me.”

“It’s just Lisa, Denise and Maria,” Jamie said, rolling her blue eyes. “We wanted to have lunch with all five of us before you leave.”

Lisa, Denise and Maria were all part of the accounting department.

Over the last few years, they had somehow made lunch with Jamie and Claire a habit.

She would miss their lively lunch conversations, she realized.

From sexy men to secret intra-office romances to Netflix binge-watching, they’d discussed it all.

She examined Jamie as they made their way to the back of the restaurant. Were the girls throwing a surprise party for her before she left LM? This entire lunch scenario seemed like a setup.

Less than three seconds later, the sight of Lisa, Denise, and Maria smiling from a table laden with pastel packages confirmed her suspicions. Pastel packages? Wait a minute…

Claire froze in her tracks as she realized the wrapping on one of the packages was dotted with rattles and teddy bears. Oh no. She reached out and snagged Jamie’s arm. “You told them?”

Jamie looked at her anxiously. “Oh you’re not mad, are you? You’re leaving, and it just didn’t seem right that we didn’t throw a shower for you. I only told the girls, and they aren’t breathing a word to anyone. We wanted to do something special for you.”

“So much for your lips being sealed,” Claire grumbled. And so much for hoping to keep this pregnancy a secret. She loved Maria dearly, but the woman started rumors like a professional gossip columnist.

“Please don’t be mad,” Jamie begged, giving Claire puppy-dog eyes.

She cracked a smile for Jamie’s benefit. Her assistant had, after all, divulged the secret with good intentions. She didn’t have the heart to spoil all her fun now.

“I’m not mad,” she said, allowing herself to be guided into a seat by Denise.

The petite brunette was utterly adorable and always happy.

She had a husband and three kids she bragged about every chance she got.

“I can’t believe the news. Congratulations.

If you ever want to compare notes, I kept pregnancy diaries.

After the babies were born, things got kind of hectic, but… well, call me if you need anything.”

Claire thanked Denise, trying not to chuckle at the mention of pregnancy diaries. If she’d been organized enough to write one, the first three months could have been summed up in one word. Vomit.

Lisa, the loudest of the bunch, picked up the box with the rattle gift wrap. “Open this now. I can’t wait until you see it. It’s just adorable.”

Feeling bemused by the attention she was suddenly getting, Claire tore open the paper to reveal a newborn outfit with matching bib, booties and hat. It really was a cute set. A genuine smile curved her lips as she tried to picture the baby who would wear it. “Thanks so much, Lisa. I love it.”

“Uh-oh.”

Claire turned to Jamie, who looked as though she was about to be struck by lightning. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s King Monroe,” Jamie whispered. “Coming this way.”

Claire’s heart sank to her feet, then right through her soles. She physically sensed him approach as he towered over their table. God, there were actually goose bumps on her arms.

“Claire, if I could borrow you for a moment?”

She flinched. She couldn’t help it. Though to the impartial observer, Logan’s tone was cool, even polite, she heard the harsh undercurrents. When she looked up, she saw the determination in his eyes.

“Of course.” She excused herself and accompanied him to the outer lobby in silence.

Though she surreptitiously studied him, Logan’s face remained a mask of impassivity.

It appeared to have been carved from the same stone as the leering Roman statue that spouted water from its mouth into the fountain.

When they came to a stop and Logan faced her, her heart hammered against her chest. This was the moment she’d been dreading, the moment she’d been seeking to avoid with all her carefully laid deceptions.

He gripped her arm at the elbow, pulling her into the angry heat radiating from his body. “Goddamn it.” His voice was rough, low, laced with fury. “Would you like to explain why you lied to me about being pregnant?”

His cold anger frightened her, not because she feared him physically but because she knew he could be a brutal man when he chose to be. She would not allow him to use the baby as leverage against her. She had no choice but to attempt to keep her lies afloat somehow.

She yanked her arm from his grip. “Because it’s none of your business.”

His lips tightened. “Like hell it’s none of my business. Jesus Christ, you looked me in the face and lied about it. How far along are you?”

“Five months,” she lied, adding an additional month. Even as she heard herself say it, she castigated herself. God, this thing was reaching soap opera proportions in a whole new way. At least she wasn’t faking the pregnancy, a favorite daytime trick.