Page 63 of The Player Next Door
Clare leaned her shoulder against the fridge. “Just stand here, I think.” She lifted her chin toward the stove, which currently had an empty frying pan resting on it. The counter was covered in flour, and there was a lone egg sitting out next to a muffin tin. “What are you even making?”
“Uh, pancakes?” Logan set the bowl down heavily on the counter.
“And the muffin tin is for . . . decoration?”
He ran a floury hand through his hair, giving him a distinct salt-and-pepper look. “I was going to make muffins at first, but then I decided pancakes would be easier, and in all of that I guess I decided to pretend I have done this before—which I haven’t.”
“You’ve never made pancakes?”
“I’m more of a take-her-out-to-brunch man, if I’m even there in the morning. Which, before you, I usually wasn’t.”
Clare’s heart softened and she took pity on him. “Pan for pancakes is in the bottom left cupboard. I’ll talk you through it.”
Ten minutes later, their fourth pancake was sizzling softly in the pan, a stack of three on the plate nearby in varying levels of okay-ness. Logan wasn’t a baker, that was for sure, but this was more fun than anything else, in her opinion. She prodded him to flip it, and he managed without major catastrophe, at least. “I, um, do have a big favor to ask,” he said, focusing a little too hard on the pan. “There’s this client.”
“The jerk.”
“Him,” Logan confirmed. “He wants to make sure I’m someone who is ‘settled,’ and I guess he has some issues with my reputation, and he says he’s leaving Loyalty unless I can prove that to him. I wouldn’t ask, except it’s basically my job on the line. Would you come to dinner with me? Help reassure him I’m, you know, responsible and shit.”
Clare’s stomach did a flip that didn’t resemble butterflies. She had understood Logan last night; she knew him well enough to know that he tended to act on impulse, especially with his job on the line like that. But something about hearing this request in the cold light of day felt more mercenary and transactional than she’d like. But it wasn’t like she hadn’t used him at the start, so she put on a smile. “Just name the place,” she said cheerfully, hoping she wouldn’t regret it.
Chapter Thirty
Logan held open the door to the patio, letting Clare and Devi through first. It was a balmy summer evening, and the restaurant’s picnic tables out back were nearly full. They found a seat at the end of one of the tables near a group that looked to be settling their checks, and when one of them stood up Clare surreptitiously slid her purse onto that spot to hold it.
Competitive patio seating was practically a sport during Minnesota summers, but fortunately Toni and Annie arrived just a few minutes later, forestalling the need for any more drastic measures. There was a flurry of activity as the server arrived and everyone hurried to get their order in, followed by a beat of quiet when she left the table.
Devi broke the silence, as Logan was rapidly discovering her role within this little group. She set the tone for their games and in their conversations. “So. Things. Happening. You two?” she said, pointing between them.
Annie giggled and Clare shrugged. “You could say that,” she said breezily, and rested her hand on his forearm. It was a small gesture, but Logan preened inwardly anyway.
No one had ever really claimed him before. Logan covered her hand with his and leaned forward. “Let’s just cut to the chase. Do I pass the test?” he asked, making eye contact with each woman in turn.
Annie cackled and that set Toni off. Toni’s laugh was infectious and drew the attention of several people around them, but Logan sat waiting Devi’s verdict. She was considering him carefully, eyes darting between him and Clare. “You’re a lot less boring than her last boyfriend, so yes, you pass,” she said with a grin.
Toni wiped a tear of laughter from her eye. “God, yes, Reid was theworst. Sorry, hon, but we held it in as long as we could,” she added to Clare.
“Okay, but that would have been useful information to have, oh, I don’t know, maybe eighteen months ago?”
“He wasn’tthatbad, he was just, you know . . .” Toni trailed off and motioned with the pint glass in her hand, almost knocking the woman next to her in the face. “Oh shit, sorry,” she said to her near-victim.
Annie picked up where she left off. “He was about as interesting as aPoliticoarticle about senate fundraising.”
“As interesting as reshelving a set of World War Two biographies,” Devi said.
“You know, my dad would probably like those,” Logan interjected.
“I know approximately one billion, remind me and I’ll give you some titles,” Devi replied without missing a beat. “But seriously, Reid was . . . well, he was fine. But he wasjustfine, you know?”
“Wait, did I miss it? I have one,” Toni said, turning back to them. “He was about as interesting as ordering hay.”
Devi held her hand out flat and wiggled it in a so-so gesture. “Eh, I think Annie’s was the best.”
“As much as I love this comedy hour workshop, I’m not sure roasting my ex-boyfriend in front of my—Logan—is the best use of our time,” Clare said primly.
Logan bumped her with his shoulder. “It’s okay, babe,” he teased. “You can call me your boyfriend.”
“Babe?Babe?” Clare said indignantly. “Since when do you call mebabe?”