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TableofContents

CopyrightPage
Mikayla
Logan
Mikayla
Mikayla
Logan
Mikayla
Logan
Mikayla
Logan
Epilogue|Mikayla
EnjoythefirstchapterofmybookYesSir...
OtherbooksbyLilaYounger
AboutLilaYounger

Mikayla

It’sjustanotherinterview,IrepeattomyselfasIturnoffthecar.Nobigdeal.

Onlyitis.Abigdealthatis.That’swhyI’veshownupalmosttwentyminutesearlytoit.Ididn’twant

anaccidentontheroadorsomethingelsetomakemelatetoit.I’vedonemyfairshareofinterviews,
eversincemyfirstjobatsixteen,butthisjobwasdifferent.Thisjobcouldreallyhelpmemakeaname
formyself.Icouldn’tevenbelieveitwhenIgotthecalltellingmetheywereinterestedininterviewing
me.TheonlyreasonIevenheardaboutitwasbecauseanoldfamilyfriendmentioneditandpassedmy
resumealong,butIassumedIwouldjustgetthegeneric‘thankyouforapplying’emailfollowedbyradio
silence.Instead,twodayslater,IgotthecalltocomeintoRedCanyonSteakhouse’sheadquartersforan
interview.

MyphonebeepsandIpullitoutofmypurse.Iturnittosilentandopenupmytextmessages.
I’mnotgoingtotellyougoodluck,becauseIknowyoudon’tneedit.I’vealreadystockedupon

chocolateandwinetocelebrate:)

Thanks,Itypeback.I’llletyouknowwhenI’mdone.
Ismile.VioletandIhavebeenbestfriendssincewesatbesideeachotheronthebustoschool.She’s

theonewhoencouragedmetoapplytoculinaryschool,eventhoughitseemedlikeasillyideaatthetime.
Myparentstookmuchlongertoconvince,eventhoughIdoalmostallthecookingathome.IfIcouldland
thisjobthough,Iknowthattheywillfinallystarttobelieveinme.

RedCanyonSteakhouseisaninstitutioninthesepartswithmanylocationshereandthroughoutthe

surroundingstates.Growingup,itwasthefancyrestaurantthatwewouldgotoforbirthdays,orwhen
relativesvisited,thatsortofthing.Theyhadthesefancyleatherboothsandtableclothsandmorespoons
andforksthannecessary.Thewaitersandwaitressesweredressedsmartly,andtheyknewhowtorecite
allthefancywordsonthemenu.Thatsortofaplace.Eventhoughwehaven’tbeenthereinawhile,it
stillstandstallinmymemory.Sotohaveachancetobecomeachefforthem,well,that’sjustamazing.

Igoovermyanswerstothecommoninterviewquestionsafewmoretimes,thenIopenupmyphone

andclickontothejobpostingthatIwastoldtoapplyat.I’matbitshortontheexperiencefront,butthe
‘drivenandcreativechef’partdescribesmetoaT.I’vealwaysknownthatbecomingachefwouldn’tbe
easy,butI’vedoneitallonmyown.That’ssurelygottocountforsomething.TheideathatI’dbeableto
setmyownmenu,thatI’dbeabletomakeupnewdishesforRedCanyonSteakhouse...allofthathasmy
fingersitching.Ichecktheclockagain.Tenminutes.That’scloseenoughIthink.

Pullingdownthevisor,Icheckthemirroronelasttime.I’mnotbigonthemakeupandgirlinessfront.

Itjustdoesn’tmakesenseinahotkitchen.Mostofthetime,Ijustbrushmyhairbackintoatightbunand
callitgood.Bighazeleyesstarebackatme,framedbylonglashes.Violet’salwaysdeclaredthatI’m
luckytoneverneedmascara,butIfigureitcouldn’thurttoputonalittlefortheinterview.SatisfiedthatI
don’thaveanysmudges,Ipushthevisorbackup,grabmypurse,andheadoutofthecar.TheheelsI’m
wearingarejustalittletoohigh,ormaybeIamnervousdespiteeverything.

ThesecretaryatthedeskshowsmetoMr.Leary’sofficeassoonasshehearsmyname,whichsends

thebutterfliesinmystomachfluttering.Ididn’texpecttobeseeingtheownerofRedCanyonSteakhouse
today,that’sforsure.TheofficeislargeandresemblesanoldEnglishstudy.Twobookshelvesflanka
massiveoakdesk,filledwithclothboundbooks,bustsoffamouspeople,andevenaglobe.Directly

behindthedeskhangplaquesforvariousawardsgiventoRedCanyonSteakhouse.Thesecretary
announcesmeandclosesthedoor.

“Welcome,”Mr.Learysays.“HaveaseatMikayla.YoucancallmeLogan.”
LoganLearyisyoung,alotyoungerthanIexpected.He’sonlyinhisearlythirtiesIthink,andlooks

absolutelyscrumptiousintheblacksuithe’swearing.He’sgotdefinitionthatevenhisjacketcan’thide.
AlmostexactlylikewhatI’dimagineifIwasintothewholefuckyourbossfantasy.WhichI’mnot.
Probablyshouldn’tbegawkingoveraguywhocouldbeyourbosssoon,Ichidemyself,especially
whenI’vealwaysbeentoldmyfaceisanopenbook.Forafleetingmoment,IalmostwishIwouldn’tget
thejob,butsquashthethoughtimmediately.Iwantthis.Ineedthis.It’severythingI’veeverdreamedof.I
drawmyselfup,squaremyshouldersandholdoutmyhandforafirmhandshake.Hishandiswarmand
strong,andIalmostdon’twanttoletgo.

“I’msorryforyourloss,”Iremembertosay.“Yourdadwasagreatman.”
TheelderMr.Learywasverywellknowninthecity,notjustbecauseofhisrestaurants,butbyhow

hemanagedtotransformhisparent’srestaurantintoachainthatspannedtheentireregion.Hedidit
throughtherecessioneven,whichmakesitevenmoreimpressive,accordingtomydad.

Logannodshisheadstiffly.Hemuststillbetornupoverit,Ithinksympathetically.Icouldn’timagine

losingmydad.Iputmypursedownbymyfeetasheopensupafilewithmyinformation.Isneakapeekat
hisdesk.It’simmaculate,withalmostnothingonittoclutteritup.Theonlydecorativeitemonthereisa
simple,silverpictureframe.It’sprettymuchthecompleteoppositeofmyownspaceathome,whichis
coveredwithpost-itnotesclusteredaroundmylaptopandhalf-finishedfoodmagazinespilingupinthe
corner.Myeyesdartuptohisclassicallyhandsomefeatures,thendownatmyhands.Waytopickatime
tobenervous,Igroaninwardly.ComeonMikayla!Goodeyecontactisimportantinaninterview.

“SoMikayla,”Loganbegins,andmyeyessnapbacktohis.Hisgazeisdarkandsmoldering,making

mefeelthingsthathavenoplaceinaninterview.Isqueezemyfisttopullmyselftogether.I’veneverfelt
sooffbalanceataninterviewbefore.“You’vejustgraduatedfromculinaryschool.”

“That’sright,”Isay,keepingmychinup.“However,I’veworkedinmanykitchensbefore,andIhave

donecateringbeforewhereI’vebeentaskedwithcreatingmyownmenu.”

“CanyougivemeanexamplemenuforwhatyoumightserveifIwantedtohireyouforadinnerparty

intwoweeks?”heasks.

“Sure,”Isayconfidently.Ioutlineamenufeaturinglocal,freshingredients,givingalittletwistto

each.Itrytokeepmyanswershortandtothepoint,butitisfood,andIcan’thelpbutdescribeit,
especiallydessert.That’sokaythough,becauseinsteadoflookingbored,Loganlooksalmosthungry.“Of
course,withthecolderweatherlately,someoftheingredientscan’tbeguaranteed,butItrytodomybest
togowiththeseasonswhenitcomestofood.There’snothingthatcanbeatthetasteoffresh.”

Logannodsappreciatively.
“Tellme,”hesays.“WhenwasthelasttimeyouvisitedaRedCanyonSteakhouse?”
Ifreezemomentarily.Iwanttosay,‘justtheotherday’buthonestly,it’sbeenafewyears.Eventhough

ourstateisn’tknownforitscuttingedgefoodscene,we’vebeensweptupinthetrendoffarmtotableand
internationalfusion.Therearesomanywonderfulnewrestaurantsthatit’shonestlybeenquiteawhile
sinceIsteppedintoaRedCanyonSteakhouse.Inallmypreparationfortherole,Ihadn’teventhoughtto
visitoneoftherestaurants.

“I’lltakeyourinabilitytoremembertomeanit’sbeenquiteawhile,”Logansaysdrily.
“Well,yes,”Iconfess.“Thatdoesn’tmeanIdon’tlikethefood.Ihavemanyfondmemoriesof

celebratingbirthdaysthere.”

“Unfortunately,thatseemstobethecasewithmostpeople,”hesays,leaningforward.“RedCanyon

Steakhousehasfallenbehindonthetimes.Infact,wehaven’tchangedourmenusincemyfathertookover
thatfirstrestaurant.Anditshows.Nowadays,therearesomanyexcitingoptionsforfood,likethekind

youdescribe,thatweareoftenputonabackburner.There’snothingexcitingonthemenu,nothingtodraw
peoplein.ButIwanttochangethat.Themenuyouhave,it’sexactlythedirectionthatwewanttobe
headingin.Iwanttoupdatetherestaurant,makeRedCanyonSteakhousetheplacetobeagain.”

“Thatsoundsfantastic,”Isay.“Iwouldlovetobegivenachancetobeapartofthat.”
“There’salotofworktobedone,”Logansays.“Andobviously,sinceit’sacrossawholechainof

restaurants,therearerestrictionsonjusthowmuchyoucando.Iwon’tbeabletogiveyoucarteblanche
tocreateasyoupleaselikeyouwouldifyouwereonlycookingatonerestaurant.Supplychainswill
sometimesdictatewhatwecanandcan’tputonthemenu.”

“Iunderstand.Butthatonlyaddstothechallenge.It’seasytobecreativewhenyoucandowhatever.

It’smuchharderwhentherearerules,”Igrin.I’mprettyexcitedattheprospect.Iwanttowowhim,even
ifmorethanalittlebitofthathastodowiththejob.Icatchthesmileonhisface,andhopethatitmeansI
gavetherightanswer.

“Mikayla,”hesays.“IthinkI’dliketoofferyouthejob.Whendoyouthinkyoucanstart?”
“You-youdo?”Iask,shockedthathe’salreadymadethedecision.“Iwouldloveto!Icanstarttoday

even!”

Helaughs.
“Wellyoudon’thavetodothat.Howabouttomorrowthough?You’reoneofthemostimportantparts

ofthisupdate,andIwanttogetyouintothekitchentoseewhatyoucando.There’sgoingtobealotof
paperworkforyoutotakehomeandfillouttodaytoo,whichwewillneedassoonaspossible.My
secretary,Mrs.Stiller,cangiveyouthose.”

“Ofcourse,”Isay,blushing.“That’swonderful.Thankyousomuchforthechance.”
LogangetsupandIdotoo.Heholdsouthishandsagainandweshake.Hisblueeyescapturemine,

anditfeelslikehe’sgoingtosaymore,buthereleasesmyhandandmovesaroundthedesktoescortme
out.IletgoofthebreathI’mholdingandgrabmypurse,givingmyheadalittleshake.Whatiswrongwith
me?Logan’smyboss.MybossofthedreamjobthatI’vewantedforforever.Ican’tmessitupby
mooningoverhim.Ihavetoactprofessional.

Oncewe’reoutoftheoffice,LogangivesdirectionstoMrs.Stiller,thensaysgoodbyeandheads

downthehall.Shequicklygoesoverthepaperwork.Loganwasn’tkidding.There’sastackatleastan
inchorsothick.IalreadyknowthatI’llbespendingmostofthedaygoingthroughitall,butIdon’tcare.
I’mhired!

Thatnight,IwhipupabaconcarbonarawhileVioletuncorksoneofherfancywines.It’sadecadent

mealthat’sperfectforcelebratingmynewjob.Wethrowourselvesdownontothecouchandthrowonthe
televisiontowatchAmerica’sNextTopModelwhileweeat.It’saguiltypleasureforthetwoofus.

“ToMikayla’snewjob!”Violettoasts.
“Tofinallygettingoffyourcouch!”Ijoke.I’vebeenhereonlyafewnights,butalreadymybackis

killingme.

“Tonewbeginnings,”shesaysalittlemoresolemnly.
“I’lldrinktothat.”Wedrinkourwine,andIpause.
“Hey,”Isaysoftly.“Thanksforalwaysbeinghereforme.”
“Whatarefriendsfor?”shesays,smiling.
I’mreallyluckytohaveViolet.WhenIdiscoveredthatmyboyfriendJakehadcheatedonme

practicallyfromthebeginningofourrelationship,Icompletelyfellapart.NevermindhowfoolishIhad
beentobelievethathewouldwaitforme...I’dbeendazzledbyhiswealth,thewayheshoweredmewith
giftsandmademefeelsospecialevenifIwasn’tfromthesamesocialcirclehewasthatIhadlooked
pasteverything.Itwasn’tuntilVioletshowedmepicturesthatIfinallyhadtofacethemusic.Lovehad
nevercomeeasyforme.I’mnaturallyshy,anditwaseasiertofocusonschoolinsteadoftryingtomake

datingwork.ImetJakewhenImovedtothecityforculinaryschoolandcompletelyfellheadoverheels.
Ialmostdroppedoutofschoolforhim.Icouldn’tbelieveI’dalmostlethimconvincemetogiveuponit.

Havingmyfirstboyfriendturnouttobesuchadouche,well,thatjustmesseswithagirl’sconfidence.

He’dtakeneverythingelseawayfromme,butIwasn’tgoingtolethimtakemydreamtoo.SoIputmento
thesideandmadefoodtheonlythinginmylife.AfterculinaryschoolIfeltrudderless.I’dappliedat
overadozenplaces,butnoneofthemwantedme.Hearingmyclassmatesallfindworkmademestartto
doubtmyself,andIendedupmovingbackhomeandworkingataDenny’sforalmostayear.Iknewthatif
Iwantedtobecomeagreatchefthough,Ihadtocomebacktothecity.SoIaskedVioletifIcouldcrash
onhercouchandsentoffanotherroundofapplications.IaskedeveryoneIknewiftheyheardofanyjob
openings.AndhereIam.

“So,”Violetsays,leaningin.“Whatdoyouthinkaboutyournewboss?”
Myeyesfalldowntomyplate.Wheretostart?Withthedreamyblueeyes?Ortheperfectbodyand

ass?OrwiththefactthatLoganremindedmealotofJake?He’srich,powerful,andprobablyusedto
everyonelisteningtohimanddoingwhathesays.Ican’tgetinvolvedwithhim,nomatterhowsexyhe
looks.Myheartcan’tstandtobebrokeninhalflikethatagain.Istabmypastaandtwirlitontomyfork.
BestnottothinkaboutLoganatall.

“He’sokayIguess.Kindofreserved.Idon’tthinkI’llbeseeinghimmuch.”Technicallynolieswere

said,butIstillfeltasthoughIwaslyingtomybestfriend,justalittle.

Logan

IammoreconfidentinmyplanonceIhiredMikaylaforthejob.Tobehonest,shewouldn’thavebeenmy
firstpick.Freshoutofculinaryschool,nottoomuchexperienceunderherbelt;italladdeduptoabig
gamble.ButI’dalreadyinterviewedamorechefsthanIcancount,andnoneofthemcouldaccurately
describethedirectionthatIwantedtotakeRedCanyonSteakhouse.Morethanafewofthemwere
concernedaboutchangingthemenuatall.Butcomplacencywasthereasonwewereinthismesstobegin
with.Evenrestaurantsneedtokeepupwiththetimes.

Ithasnothingtodowiththoseperfectlipsandmilelonglegs,Itellmyself.Ialmostbelieveit.Not

thatIwasabouttostepovertheboundsofprofessionalethics.Thecompanyhasenoughshittodealwith.
ThelastthingthatIneededwasfortheboardandeveryoneelsetolosefaithinmeandhandthecompany
overtosomeguywhowouldsqueezeeverythinghecouldoutofthecompanymyfatherstartedbefore
sellingitoff.

IalwaysknewthatsomedayIwouldbecomeownerandCEOofRedCanyonSteakhouse.Myfather

haddrilleditintomeeversinceIwasakid.Backthen,Iwouldcomehomeafterschooleverydayanddo
myhomeworkatthetablebetweenlunchanddinnerservice,whentherestaurantwasquietexceptforthe
soundsofthechefsinthekitchenpreppingfordinner.Then,atfive,whenthefirstdinerswouldstart
tricklingin,myauntwouldcomepickmeuptogohomesothatmyparentscouldkeepworkingintothe
night.

Familydinnersweren’tathinginmyhousehold.Insteaditwouldbefamilybreakfasts,wheremydad

wouldgoandtalkabouttherestaurantandexplaintomehowthingsweredone.I’ddonemyfairshare.
WhenIturnedsixteen,Ibecameadishwasher;ateighteen,whenIwenttocollege,Ibecameawaiter.
WhenIwasgettingmyMBA,Iwasassistantmanageratoneofthesmallerbranchesnearcampus.There
wasnosuchthingasafreeridewithmydad.He’dworkedtoohardforeverycentandhewantedhisboy
toknowthatsamelesson.‘Nothingisareplacementforcashearnedwithyourownhandsson,’Ican
stillhearhimsayingtome.AtthetimeIresentedmydadforit.Wewereclearlydoingwell.Atthatpoint,
RedCanyonSteakhousewasopeningnewbranchesleftandright.Nowthough,I’mgladforit.IfIdidn’t
knowhowtorunarestaurantinsideandout,Iknowwedon’thavearat’schanceinhellofgettingoutof
themesswe’rein.

“Howcouldhehaveletallthishappen?”Imuttertomyself.
ButIdoknowhow.Myfatherdiedofaheartattackathisdesk.Hewasworkinglatethatnight,like

mostnights,andhadn’tbeenfounduntilthenextmorning.Itwastoolatethen.Accordingtomymom
though,whatkilledhimwasthestress.Hehadkepther,andeveryoneelse,inthedarkaboutthetrue
natureofthings.Shethoughthewasplanningontakingthechainnational,butthatcouldn’tbefurtherfrom
thetruth.Infact,wehadexpandedtooquickly,andwehadn’tbeenabletoscaleouroperationstokeep
up.ThestandardhadslippedatRedCanyonSteakhouse,andwithit,ourprofits.I’mheadingtoameeting
rightnowtoseejusthowbaditallreallyis.

Ienterintothemeetingroom,andsteelmyselfforbadnews.Thegrimfacesonmystaffsayitall.

Eachofthemhasapieceofthepuzzle,butbecausemydadhandledeverything,nobodyknewjusthow
badthingswere.Untilnow.UntilIsteppedin.Iwasn’tgoingtodothingslikemyfatherdid.Hewasa
greatman,buthewasalsoacontrolfreak,andthatjustdoesn’tworkinacompanywithmorethana

handfulofrestaurants.Therearejusttoomanymovingpiecestokeeptrackof.Addtothattheshoddy
bookkeeping,andwell,it’samiracleourdoorsarestillopen.

“GiveittomestraightSean,”Isaytomybestfriendincollege,whohappenedtomajorinaccounting.

IpulledhimintothisassoonasIfoundoutwhatwashappening.Iknewthathewoulddoathoroughjob,
andhewouldn’ttrytosugarcoatthings.That’sthelastthingIneededrightnow.Iamtootensetoevensit
down,andinsteadIpaceatthefrontoftheroom.

“It’snotgoodLogan,”Seansays,lookingdownathispapers.“You’rehemorrhagingmoneyleftand

right.Therehavebeen,shallwesay,discrepanciesinhowthingsarebeinghandledfromrestaurantto
restaurant.Morethanonemanagerhasbeenorderingmorefoodthannecessarytokeepupwith
appearances.Ievenencounteredastaffmemberwho’sbeensellingofftheexcesstoputintheirown
pocket.Stufflikethathasgoneuncheckedbecausetherewasonlyonepersontoanswerto:yourfather.
AndIgottheimpressionfromthestaffthattheyweretooterrifiedoflosingtheirjobstospeakup.”

“Howcouldthishappen?”Iask,turningtomyfather’soldestemployeeandfriend,Kevin.
“Thingsslippedthroughthecracks.Yourfatherwasastubbornman.Hedidn’tliketobetoldthathe

wasgettingoldandlettinggoofhispower,”hereplied,givinghisbonyshouldersashrug.

“Thereareotherthingstoo,”awomansaysquietly.HernameisLinda,andshe’sinchargeofthe

advertising/marketingsideofthings.“Yourfatherwasagainstsocialmedia.Thoughtitloweredthebrand
intheeyesofthepublic.Westillrunfullpageadsinnewspapers.Ourclientelehasaged,butwehaven’t
beenabletobringinayoungercrowd.RedCanyonSteakhouseshouldbetheplaceforbusinesslunches
anddinners,andyet,itisn’thappening.Oneofthefirsthingsyourfatherslashedwastheadvertising
budget.HethoughtthateveryonealreadyknewRedCanyon.”

Upuntilnow,Ihaven’ttoldthemwhatmyplansaregoingforwardwiththecompany.I’vebeenbusy

restructuring,hiringandpromotingpeopletofillinthegaps.Idon’twanttobemyfather.Idon’twantto
handleeverythingmyself.Notjustbecauseitputhimintoanearlygrave,butbecauseIknowthatmytime
couldbespentmuchmoreeffectivelyifI’mnotboggeddownintheminutedetails.

“OhpeopleknowaboutRedCanyonallright.Butthatdoesn’tmeantheywanttocomein.Thereare

toomanyrestaurantsdoingexcitingthings.Thescenehaschanged,”Isay.“Weneedtomakesome
changestooifwewanttokeepup.”

It’sasthoughI’vesetoffabombintheroom.Everyoneclamorstotalk.Iexpectedthis,butI’m

preparedandreadytofieldtheirquestions.Aftertwohoursexplainingbothmyvisionandreceivingtheir
input,Ifinallycallanendtothemeeting.Wehaveaplaninplace,andI’mtired,butfeelinghopeful.The
mostimportantthingtodoofcourseistostreamline.Wecan’thaveanymorewastefulspending.The
secondthingwe’regoingtodoistorebrandthemenu.Oncewestopflushingmoneydownthedrainand
we’rebringingpeoplebackthroughourdoors,thenwecanlookatrebrandingeverythingelse.Sofarwe
don’tneedtocloseanyrestaurants,butthatpossibilityremainsopen.IhopeIdon’thaveto,andIargued
againstitbecausemyemployeesdon’tdeservetobeoutofajob.Theyputtheirtrustinmyfather,and
nowme.Iwon’tgiveuponthemwithoutexhaustingallmyotheroptionsfirst.

“So,”IsaytoSeanonceit’sjusthimandIleftintheroom.“Thinkwecanmakethishappen?”
“Ihopeso,”hesays.“You’regettingawfullyclosetobankruptcy.Butifthere’sanyoneinourbusiness

schoolwhocouldpullitoff,I’dputmymoneyonyou.”

“Thanksforthevoteofconfidence,”Isay,clappingahandonhisshoulder.
“Areyoudonefortheday?”heasks.“There’sagameontonight.Feelslikeforeversincewe’ve

watchedonetogether.”

“You’vegottobekidding.There’samillionandonethingsI’vegottodonowthatwe’vehammered

outaplan.Atleastwewon’thavetoworryaboutthemenu.Thenewchef,Mikayla,isbrimmingwith
ideas.”

“Soyouhiredsomeone?Finally.Issheanygood?”

IthinkaboutMikayla,withherbig,innocenteyesandherlonghairtumblingdownacrossthoseslim

shouldersandpertbreasts.Ithinkaboutthatsmooth,creamyskin,andhowIwantedtotouchandtasteher.
Thewayshestoppedmybraininitstracksforafullfivesecondswhenshewalkedinthedoor.Ididn’t
hireherforherbody,butI’dbelyingifIdidn’tadmitthatmycockthankedmeforit.

“We’llseetomorrow,”isallIsay.“I’mgoingtogethertomakemelunch.”

**********

Mikaylashowsupatelevenonthedot,andI’mgladforthebreak.I’vespentamajorityofthismorning
puttingoutfires.Itturnsoutthatit’snotonlymyfatherwhowasadversetochange.Plentyofhis
employeesaretoo.Igetthatthey’reafraidoftryingsomethingnew,especiallywhennewisthecomplete
oppositeofwhatwe’vedonesofar.Butwhatwehaveisn’tworking.Surelytheycanseethat?Itmakes
mewanttobangmyheadagainstawallwhenIhavetoexplainthatforthemillionthtime.SowhenMrs.
StillertellsmethatMikayla’sshownup,Ipracticallyjumpoutofmychairtogreether.

She’sdressedcompletelydifferenttoday,inawhitechef’scoatandleggingsthathughercurves.Ifeel

desirerushdownmybody,andIhavetomakeafirmdecisiontokeepmyeyesfromwanderingdown.
She’sforegonemakeup,butherfaceisstillfreshanddewyandgorgeous,evenmoresoyesterday.She
handsoffherpaperworktoMrs.Stiller,andtogetherweheadtowardtheelevators.Mydadloved
cooking,andinsistedthatthecompanyheadquartersbefittedwithastateoftheartkitchen.Iknowthatit’s
beenneglectedinthepastfewyears,butitwasstillsometimesusedforworkpartiesandthelike.Forthe
purposesoftoday,itwoulddojustfine.

I’dsentsomeoneyesterdaytoensurethatthekitchen’sfullystocked.NotonlywillMikaylabe

cookinginheretoday,butshe’llbetrainingthechefsatRedCanyonSteakhousetoensurethattheyareall
abletoexecutehermenu,andshe’llbeusingitonaregularbasistocomeupwithnewseasonalfavorites.
Itmaybepriceytocontinuallychangeupourofferingsonthemenu,butIthinkit’llbeworthit.

“Youreadytodosomecooking?”Iaskheroncewe’reintheelevator.
“Isthatatrickquestion?”Shereplieswithagrin.“I’malwayshappiestwhenI’mcooking.Doesn’t

matterwhere,doesn’tmatterwhen.Infact,yourkitchenwillbeheapsbetterthantheoneI’mcookingin
now.”

“Why’sthat?”Iask.“Iwouldimaginethatachef’sownkitchenwouldbewhereshe’smost

comfortable.”

“Ohbelieveme,IdreamofthedaywhenIcanhaveafancykitcheninmyveryownhome.Double

ovens,awarmingdrawer,anextraprepsinks,tapforpastapots.I’vegotawholelist.ButrightnowI’m
campingonmybestfriend’scouch,sotheonlykitchenI’vegotaccesstohasn’tbeenupgradedsincethe
80’s.”

“There’sanopeningintheapartmentbuildingnearmyfamily’shome,”Isay.“Iwasactuallyplanning

onmovingintoitmyselfbutdidn’t.Anyways,Ithinkitwouldsuityourneedsexactly.Iactuallypassedit
bybecauseofthekitchen.Ispendfartoomuchtimeontakeouttoeverneedthatmuchspace.”

Idon’tsaythatInevermovedinbecausemyrecentlywidowedmotherendedupneedingmetomove

backhome.Itwastooemptyforjustherself,shesays.Ialsoagreed.Sheandmyfatherwerehighschool
sweethearts.Losinghimwaslikelosinghalfofherself.Ididn’twanthertobealonewhenhermindwas
insuchastate,soImovedbackintotheguesthouse.Equippedwithakitchen,bathroom,andtwo
bedrooms,itismorethanadequateforwhatIneedrightnow.IamextragladthatIhadn’tmovedbackto
themainhousesothatIcouldkeeptheuglymessmyfathermadeofthecompanyunderwraps.Thelast
thingIwanthertodowasworryoveritontopofeverythingelseshe’sgonethrough.

“That-Thatsoundsperfect,”shesays.
Theelevatordingsandopensup.

“Noproblem.I’llfindthenumberforyoutonight.It’sonmywayhome.”
“I’msurprisedthatyoudon’tlikecooking,”Mikaylasays.“Imean,astheownerofarestaurant

business.”

“Myfatherownedarestaurantbusiness,”Icorrect.“IworkedmostofmylifeatRedCanyon

Steakhouse,butIwouldn’tsaythatthisismypassion.”

“Iguessnot,ifyou’vegotpizzaonyourspeeddial,”shesaysteasingly.
“AndThai,andsushi.Idohaveavariedpalate.Don’tgetmewrong.Idoenjoyeatingfood.Justnot

makingit.Idon’thavethepatiencetositforhoursmakingsteworpastabyhand.”

OurconversationiscutshortasIopenthedoortothekitchen,andshestandsforasecondtakingitin.

Eventhoughit’sanolderkitchen,myfatherhadsunkalotofmoneyintoitinthebeginningtomakeita
chef’sdream,andIguessit’sstillholdingitsownafterallthistime.Mikaylawalksslowlydownthe
counter,checkingeverythingout.Sheopensthedoorinthepantry,noddingthoughtfully,andproceedsto
thefridge.Thenshestartspullingoutthedrawers,murmuringpleasedsoundsasshespiessomethingshe
likes.

“Well?Thinkyou’llbeabletocookinthiskitchen?”Iask.
“Forsure!Thereareafewthingsingredientsthataremissing,butfortoday,IthinkI’llstillbeableto

blowyourpantsoff.”Shepausessuddenlyandgoesred,thenquicklyturnsaroundandopensthedrawer
shejustopenedmomentsbefore.“Especiallyinsuchafancykitchen!Ican’twaittousethisthing!”

Iresisttheurgetolaughatherchatter.It’scute,andbesides,Ilikethefactthatshe’sthinkingaboutme

naked.Icertainlyhavebeenthinkingabouther.Ofcourse,itwouldbeaterribleidea,seeingasI’mher
boss.Nottomentionunethical.Imaybetheowner,butthatdoesn’tfreemetodowhatIwant.

“Ithinkthat’sapineappleslicer,”Isay.
“Oh,I’vegotlotsofideasforpineapple,”shesaysweakly.
“Well,I’mjustaboutreadyforlunchifyouwanttostart,”Isay,lettingheroffthehook.“I’lljustsit

overontheendofthecounterhereifyoudon’tmind.Wecangooversomeideasyouhaveforthemenu
whileyoucook.Unlessyouprefernottomultitask.”

“Icanmultitask,”shesayswithmorethanalittlebitofrelief.“AndI’vegotlotsofgreatideas.I

couldn’tevensleeplastnightthereweresomany.Iwrotethemdownforyou,butI’mhappytotalkin
detailaboutthem.”

Shepullsoutapieceofpaperfromherpurseandhandsitover.Iglanceatthelistasshewashesher

hands.Thereareovertwentyitemsonit.I’mimpressed.Ipickarandomselectiontogothroughwithher,
andshechatsanimatedlyassheworks.There’safarmoutsideoftownthatmakethebestcheese,and
anothervendoratthefoodmarketdowntownthat’sgotthefreshestcatchintown.MorethanonceIfind
myselfnotsomuchlisteningaslookingatMikayla.Herenthusiasmisapparent,anddamnifitisn’t
incrediblysexytoo.

MaybeIshoulddismissherbeforetheideatakesholdandIactonit.ButIdon’thaveagoodreason

forit,becauseherfoodisamazing.She’smanagedtoelevatebasics,inastyleallherown.Evenwitha
limitedpantry,she’smanagedtomakethefoodtastelikeitcamefromaMichelinstarrestaurant.Thisis
good.Thisishopeful.WithMikaylaatthehelm,wejustmightbeabletopullthisoff.RedCanyon
Steakhousemightjustmakeit.

AslongasIcankeepitinpants,Ithink.It’stheonlythingthatsoursmygoodmood.

Mikayla

Thenexttwoweekspassbyinablurforme.SometimesIstillcan’tbelievethatIhavethisjob.It’sbeen
adreamforquitealongtime,andtohaveitactuallyhappen,whenitwassuchalongshotreallyhas
improvedmyconfidence.ThesubtlejabsaboutmyskillfromJakeareslowlybeingreplacedasIstart
settlingintomynewroleatRedCanyonSteakhouse.AfterI’dprovedmyselftoLogan,heofficially
offeredmetheposition.Mypaywasridiculouslyhuge,enoughthatI’ddefinitelybeabletoaffordthat
apartmenthereferredtome,butmorethanthat,Ifinallyfeltlikethingswereturningaround.

AtfirstIthoughtthatIwouldn’tseethatmuchofLogan,butinfact,thecompleteoppositehappened.

Heshowedupalmosteveryday,usuallyaroundlunchtime.Iwasmakingfoodoften,experimentingwith
recipesanddiscussingwithvariouspeopleaboutqualityofingredientsandscalability,andIguessLogan
didn’twantthefoodtogotowaste.Ididn’tmindatallofcourse.Thatmanisseriouslyeasyontheeyes,
andaslongasIwastalkingaboutfood,Iwastooexcitedtogetembarrassed.Itwasmycomfortzone,
whereIdidn’tstumbleovermywordsorfeelstupidinfrontofaguy.

Andbelieveme,Logancouldmakemestumble.EverytimeIlookupintothoseaquablueeyes,that

powerfulbody,theeasywayhecarrieshimselfandcommandstheattentionofeveryonearoundhim.It’s
likegettingclosetothesun.Icanfeelmybodystraighten,everynerveacutelyawareofwhereheisinthe
room,athrillofdesirecurlaroundmybelly.Ican’thelpit.Ihavenoillusionsthough;amanlikeLogan
probablyhasagirlfriend,someoneequallybeautifulandsuccessfulasheis,whocouldeasilymove
aroundinhissocialcircle.Bestnottogodownthatroadatall.

“Sothisisthelastdish,”IsayasIputdownaplateofgrilledsalmontacosinfrontofLogan.
“Wow!”hesays,“Thisisanamazingplateofcoloryouhave.Itlooksandsmellsfantastic.”
“Ittastesfantastictoo,Ipromise,”Isay.
Iwatchashetakesabiteandcloseshiseyesmomentarily.
“Itisgood,”hesays,oncehe’sswallowed.“Thisstuffisfantastic.Andyouthinkwe’llbeableto

havethemineveryrestaurant?”

“Ohforsure.Itcooksreallyfast,andtheavocadosalsacanbeincorporatedintosaladsandburgers

easily.Thecornmakesagreatsidetoo,givingthecustomermoreoptionsfortheirentrees.”

“Iloveit,”Logansays,takinganotherbite.“You’recatchingonfast.”
“Thanks,”Isay.“I’mreallyenjoyingthechallenge.”
Isitdownacrossfromhimanddigintomytacotoo.ThisisthelastdishthatI’vemadeforthemenu

relaunchandIwonderwhatwillhappennow.WillLogandisappearbacktohisoffice?Ifindmyself
thinkingofdifferentwaysthatcouldbringhimback.I’mreallyenjoyingourlunchestogether.

“Sowouldyousaythisistruetoyourcookingstyle?”Loganasksoncehe’sfinisheddevouringoneof

thetacosontheplate.“Inoticeyou’vegotamedleyofcuisinesinyourfood.”

“Notexactly,”Isaywithasmile.“YouwantedRedCanyonSteakhousetoberepresentativeofthe

arearight?AndeventhoughIknowMexicanfoodreallydominatesinCalifornia,there’salsotheideaof
freshandlocal,Asianfoods,allofthat.Idon’tthinkyoucansayAmericanfoodisjustburgersandapple
pieanymore.Wehavesomanydifferentpeoplesandculturesallcomingtogetherthatalittlecrossing
overisnatural,andIthinkthatextendstofoodtoo.”

Ipauseforamomenttothink.

“IthinkifIcouldpickonecuisinetocookforever,itwouldprobablybeclosertoItalianfood.I’d

lovetobeabletospendalongvacationinEuropeoneday,learninghowtocookregionalfoodsinItaly.
Pokingaroundinalocal’skitchen,learningwhattheirgrandmotherspasseddown.Makingpastabyhand.
Thatsortofathing.Notrightnowofcourse,”Isayquickly,rememberingthatI’mtalkingtomyboss,nota
friend.“Butmaybeinafewyearswhenthingshavesettleddown.”

Loganlooksatmethoughtfully.
“Thatmakessensetome,”hesays.“Cookingdoesn’tseemtobeastaticsortofthing.It’saskillthat

continuallyevolvesandgetsbetter.Ithinkthere’llalwaysberoomtogrowandimprovewhenitcomesto
food.”

“Exactly!”Iexclaim.“Andwhataboutyou?Wereyoualwaysplanningontakingoveryourfather’s

company?”

“No,itwasnevermyplan.Thatwastotallymyfather’s.Iwantedtoliveuptohisexpectations

though,soIwenttobusinessschoolandputinmyduesattherestaurant.IfiguredI’dhaveanothertwenty
yearsbeforeI’dbeaskedtostepin.”

“Whatwouldyouhavedoneinstead?”
“Somethinginthetechworldmaybe.That’swherealltheexcitingstuffisthesedays.”
I’msurprisedbythefactthataguylikeLoganwouldwanttogointotech.Itseemstomesomething

well,sortofgeeky.Definitelynotforaguywholookedlikethestarquarterbackinhighschool.He
catchesmylookandlaughs.

“Techisn’tjustfornerdsanymore.It’smadeitswayintoeveryfacetofourlives,andsoonanyone

whodoesn’tunderstanditwillnevermakeitinbusiness.Imightnotbetheoneactuallymakinganapp,
butIwanttobeabletodecidewhichonewillbethehotnewthing,orwhatcompaniestoinvestwho’ll
becomethenextApple.Thatsortofthing.”

“Andwhatifyoumakeamistake?”Iask.
“That’stheriskyouhavetotake,”hereplies.“Butthatwillhavetowaitfornow.Ican’ttakeoffuntil

IknowthatRedCanyonSteakhouseisdoingwellagain.Itwouldbewrongtojustabandonthecompany
andcosteveryonetheirjobs.”

I’msurprisedthatLogancaressodeeply.AtfirstIassumedthathewasallaboutthemoney,buthis

wordsshowdifferent.It’snotsomethingI’musedtofromguyslikehim.

“There’ssomethingIwanttodiscusswithyoutodaybeforeIforget,”Logansays,interruptingmy

thoughts.“IwashopingthatIcouldbringintheexecutivechefsfromeachrestaurantforatastingofthe
newmenu.Ithinkit’simportantthattheytastejusthowitshouldbedone,andgettoaskyouquestionsto
makesurethattheyareabletodoitproperly.It’llhavetobetomorrowbecauseofthetimecrunch.This
launchisthemostimportantthingwecando.Weonlyhaveoneshot,soit’sgottobeperfect.I’vealready
startedrunningadvertising,andtheoriginalRedCanyonSteakhousehereinthecityisgoingtohostabig
dinnerandinvitingallthefoodcriticsandbloggersin.Doyouthinkyouwouldbeabletodothatfor
me?”

“Yes,ofcourse.Anythingyouwant.”
There’sthatflareofintensityinhiseyesagain.IthoughtIimagineditattheinterview,butthistime,

onlyinchesaway,Iseeforsuretheheatinhiseyes.It’slikehesuckedalltheairoutfromaroundhim,and
mylipspart.

“Good,”hesays,inatonethatsendsmystomachflipfloppingandmypussytopulsewithverylong-

neglectedneed.

Ineedtoputsomespacebetweenus,beforewhateverisintheairmakesmedosomethingincredibly

stupid.

“Sotonight?”Isayshakily.

Andjustlikethat,everythingrevertsbacktonormal.Loganbreakseyecontact,standingupand

gatheringupthepapersalloverthecounter.

“Tonight.Ican’twaittoseewhateveryonethinksofthismenu,”hesays,tappingthelistinhisbinder.

“Ibetterrunthisoversowegetthenewmenu’sprintedintime.”

Heflashesmeasmileandheadsout.Icandothis,Ithink.MyfoodisgoodenoughforLogan,it’ll

begoodenoughforhisstaff.

**********

“Soisthissomekindofworkparty?”Violetasksmeasshecarefullydabseyeshadowontomyface.

I’moveratherapartment,lettinghergetmeready.Icanswipeonmascaralikeanyoneelse,butwhen

itcomestolookinggood,IstillrelyonViolettodomymakeup.Tonighthasballoonedintomuchmore
thanjustafewchefscomingtotastethenewmenu.Loganwantstoformallyintroducemetoeveryone.
I’mthenew“creativedirector”oftheirfood,asheputsit,andalotwillberestingonmyshoulders.Ifmy
fooddoesn’tcutit,thecompanycouldfail.Naturally,thatmakeseveryoneverycurioustomeetme.It’s
gotmystomachchurning.IwanttomakeagoodimpressionandproveLogan’sfaithinme.

“Not...exactly,”Isay.“It’ssortofaworkparty,buteveryonewillbeeatingmyfood.Andcritiquing

it.Andtakingitapart.”

“Yournervous,”shesays,pullingbacktocheckherhandiwork.“Youshouldn’tbe.Yourfood’s

fantastic.WhydoyouthinkIletyouliveherewithoutrent?”

“Hey!Icookedyoudinnereverynight,”Iremindher.
“ThankGodthat’sover.I’mhavingtodothewiggledancetogetintomyskinnyjeansthesedays.Your

carbonaraneedstocomewithawarningsign.”

Ismile.Violet’stryingtoboostmyconfidence,andIappreciateit.Iknowthatlogicallyspeaking,my

foodisgood.ButI’mjustalittleworriedabouthowveteranchefs,withyearsoftrainingundertheir
belts,aregoingtothinkaboutanewbielikemetellingthemhowtocook.ForallIknow,theymighthate
it.AndmaybeLoganwillbemorelikelytotakewhattheyhavetosaythanhewouldforme.Iswallow
hard.

“You’llbefine,”Violetstresseswhensheseeshowfarupmyshouldersarearoundmyears.“Why

don’tyoutellmemoreaboutLogan?”

Thatcameoutofleftfield.I’msosurprisedthatIinstinctivelyjerkandshecursesasthedarkeye

shadowshe’sputtingonmegoessideways.

“Youhavetoholdstill!”
“WhydoyouwanttoknowaboutLogan?”Idemand.
“Ahotguylikethatkeepspoppingupforlunch?Especiallyaguywho’sthebossofacompanythat’s

probablydealingwithamilliondifferentthingsbeforetheirrelaunch?You’rekiddingyourselfifyouthink
it’sbecauseheonlywantsagoodmealMikayla.”

Sheknowsmetoowell.Ihavebeentellingmyselfthatthere’snothinggoingon.Thattherecan’t

possiblybeanything.I’vebeensocaughtupinworkthatIhaven’texaminedmyfeelingstooclosely,but
nowthatthenewmenu’salmostdone,I’mfacedwiththefactthatI’vegottentoknowLoganwell,andI
likewhathe’sshowingme.I’mmorethandueforanewrelationship,buttherearejusttoomany
similaritiesbetweenLoganandJakestillthatI’mhesitating.

“There’snothinggoingon,”IsaytoViolet.Shelooksatmeaskance.“Okay,somaybethere’salittle,

verytiny,minusculecrush.Butthat’sallitis!It’snotgoingtobeanythingelse.”

“Thisisthefirsttimeyou’veshownaninterestinanyoneMikayla.You’rescared;Iunderstand.

You’recompletelyoutofpractice.Butit’sokay.He’sinterestedtoo.Thatmakesthingsahellofalot
easier,”Violetsaysknowingly.Shedabsmyeyelidwithmakeupremover.“Justfollowhisdirection.”

Talkingabouthimremindsmeofwhathappenedinthekitchentoday.It’salmostoverwhelming,the

desireI’mfeeling.IwishIcouldsplashsomecoldwateronmyself,butthatwouldruinthemakeup.I
reallydoneedtostopthinkingdirtythingsaboutmyboss.It’sgoingtoleadtonowheregood.Butwhen
hasthateverworked?

“Idon’twanttofollowhisdirectionthough,”Isay,lyingthroughmyteeth.“He’smyboss.”
“Thatmakesthingsalittlemorecomplicated,”Violetconcedes.“Butalsokindofsexy.Forbidden

loveandallthat.Icangetbehindit.”

“WellIcan’t.Iactuallyneedthisjob.”
“Mmhm,”shesays,butIcantellthatshe’sutterlyunconvinced.
“Sohow’syourmomdoing?”
It’sablatantchangeinsubject,butVioletgivesmeaknowinglookandletsme.She’salwaysreadyto

talkabouthernarcissisticmom.ThelatestescapadewaswhensheinvitedherselfovertoViolet’sbrother
andsister-in-law’shouseandmanagedtorearrangetheentiremainfloorforherownconvenienceunder
theguiseof“helpinghertidyup”.Violet’sniecehadjustbeenborn,andhersisterinlawwasinno
conditiontodoanythingbecauseofherc-section.IletViolettellthestory,gaspingandnoddingalong,but
apartofmeisstillwondering,coulditreallyhappenbetweenLoganandI?

Mikayla

ThenightturnsouttobebetterthanIexpected.Logandecidedtotakeoveroneoftherestaurants,andit
givesthemeetingacozy,informalfeel.Icantellit’soneofthenewerrestaurants,becauseitdoesn’thave
theheavyformalnessoftheoriginalRedCanyonSteakhouse.It’sabitofashame,becauseIhavefond
memoriesofgoingthereforspecialoccasions,andIwouldhavelikedtoseewhatitlookslikenow.
There’sanopenbarinthebackoftherestaurant,andtheatmosphereislivelyandupbeat.They’veeven
openedupthepatioforpeopletomingle.I’mgladIdidn’toverdressforit.Ihaveonajewelgreenblouse
andadarkgreyskirt,andmyhairandmakeupissophisticatedwithoutlookingoverdone.Itportraysthe
kindofprofessionalismthatIhopewillimpress.

Maybeit’llmakeanimpressiononLogantoo.Thoughthat’snotthereasonwhyIaskedVioletto

help...Iaddsilently.

I’mintroducedtoeveryone,andthankfully,mostofthemdon’tlooktooskepticalofmyage.Therest

arewonoverwhenthefoodcomesoutandtakesabite,andIfinallygettostartrelaxing.Ianswerafew
questions,andthenweallsitdownandenjoythefoodwhileLogangoesoverhisplansforwhathewants
RedCanyonSteakhousetobecome.Inadditiontothevariouschefs,he’sinvitedquiteafewotherpeople,
andIgetintroducedtothemonebyoneoncedinnerisfinished.Peopleareenjoyingthemselves,and
stayinglongereventhoughit’saworkmeeting.Itmustbethefreebooze.

Atonepoint,Iendupbesidetheonlyotherfemalechefinthegroup.She’solderthanme,maybemy

mom’sage,butshe’sgotaneyebrowpiercinganddarkredstreaksinherhair.

“Hi,”shesays.“I’mSheila.”
“Mikayla,”Isay.“It’ssonicetoseeanotherfemalechef.”
“Samehere,”shesaysliftingupherglass.“I’mnothalfasmadfornotgettingthejobanymore.”
“Logandidinternalinterviews?”
Idon’tknowwhyI’msurprised.Itwouldmakesenseforhimtopromotefromwithinwhenpossible,

andLoganseemslikethekindwhowouldvalueloyaltyandmerit.

“Yeshedid,”shesays.“Mr.Learyopenedituptoallthechefsworkingforhim.ButIhavetosay,I

didn’tenvisionthiswhenhesaidhewasgoingtodothingsdifferentlyfromhisfather.This,thisisvery
different.NotthedirectionIwouldtakemyself,butthenagain,I’mcomfortablewithhowthingswere,
youknow?Idon’tseeanyreasonforchangingthings.ButIhavetosay,yourfoodisgood.Theflavorsare
spoton.”

“Thanks.Itmeansalot.IknowI’vegotalottoliveuptobutI’mconfidentthatthisiswhatthepeople

want.”

“Ihopeso,”Sheilasays.“I’vegotthreekidswho’reallheadingtocollegesoonandfromwhatIhear,

Mr.Leary’spouringeverythingintothis.It’sgottopayoff.”

Theweightlandsheavilyonmyshoulders,butItryandmusterasmuchconfidenceaspossible.Ihave

totalkthingsup,becauseifthechefisn’tonboard,thefoodisn’tgoingtocomeoutwell.Anotherchef
floatsby,overhearingourconversation,andsoonI’minthemiddleofawholegroup,alleagerly
discussingthenewmenu.SuddenlyIfeelthehairsonthebackofmyneckprickle,andIglancearoundthe
room,myeyeslockingwithLogan.He’stalkingtosomeonetoo,thoughhe’snotpayingthatmanany
attention.Idartmyeyesaway,butIcan’thelpbutglancebackeverysooften.Idon’tknowwhat’scome
overme.I’vebarricadedmyheartprettywell,butthemanreallyisthatgoodlooking.

You’reahotmess,Ithinktomyself.Pullyourselftogether.
“Excuseme,”hesays,hisbreathonmyear.“ButIhavesomepeopleIwanttointroduceyouto.”
Icanfeelthewayhishandrestslightlyonmybackasheguidesmearoundthepatio,andImissmost

ofthenamesandjobsthesepeoplehave.IjusthopethatIwon’tbeseeingthemagainanytimesoon.AllI
couldthinkaboutisthatonetinyspotwheretheheatofhisfingersaresearingthroughmyblouse.My
wholebodyheatsup,causingmynipplestoswellandmypussytothrobforattention.Iknowthatthis
reactionjustisn’tlikeme,butIhonestlycouldn’tstopitevenifIwantedto.Thattinyamountoftouchhas
mesowetalready.Whatwoulditbelikeifhecoulddoanythingtome?

Andsuddenlytherehewas,asifansweringthequestioninmymind,hislipsbrushingupagainstmine.

ThankGodthateveryonehadleftthepatioandcouldn’tseethis.Ishouldsaysomething,anything,butthe
truthisIwanttoknowhowhetastes.Badly.SoIdon’tmove,lettinghimkissmeunderneaththestars.
Logangentlytakesmychin,tiltingmyheadupmoretowardhim.Somehowtheheatofhislipsspreads
likefirethroughme,makingmytoescurlandmypussyache.Ipressmyselfagainsthisbody,wantingto
feelthefirmnessofhismusclesagainstme.Hisfingersrunthroughmyhair,pullingonthenapeofmy
neckjustenoughthatIgaspandhistongueslipsinsidetotasteme.

Desirefilledupeverybitofmefromthatkiss,untiltherewasnothingbutLoganinmybrain.

Everythingelsefadesawaybuthishandsonmybody,makingeverycellinmecomealive.

“Let’sgo,”hesayssoftly.
“Please,”Isay,thefirstofmanytimestonight.
TheridebacktoLogan’sisquick,butI’mbubblingwithnervousness.I’dneverdonethisbefore.I

knowitsoundsridiculousforatwentyfouryearoldwomantoadmit,butthereitis.IalwaysthoughtI
wouldlosemyVcardincollege,atsomedrunkenparty,sonobodywouldknow,butthenImetJake.Igot
nervousandaskedtotakeitslow,andhe’dagreed,butwell,itallfellapartbeforeIcouldevendoit.It
wasstupidtoo.I’dplannedthisbigthingforhisbirthday,thinkinghewouldreallytreasureit.IthoughtI
waslucky,havingfoundsomeonethatlovedmesomuchthatmyfirsttimewouldactuallybespecial,
insteadofsomethingtogetridofquickly.

BoywasIwrongthere.
AndthenIavoidedmenaltogether,andnowhereIam,stuckwithmyvirginity.IalmosttellLoganto

forgetit,totakemehomeinstead,butbythenwewerepullinguptothegates.Twolarge,metalLshapes
twinedtogetheroneachsideofthegate,whichslowlyopeneduptorevealamassivehouse.Tallcolumns
helduptheroof,andeveninthedark,Icouldseetheimpressivecarvingsinthestone.

“Wow,”Isay,momentarilydistractedfrommyproblem.“Youlivehere?”
“Myparents.Mymother,”hecorrects.“I’mstayingattheguesthouserightnowsothatIcancheckin

onher.”

Idetectanoteofworryinhisvoice.Ican’tevenimaginelosingtheloveofyourlifesosuddenlylike

Logan’smotherdid.Myparentswereluckilybothveryhealthy.

Loganturnsoffthedrivetowardsasmallerhousesettotheside.It’scozier,lessimposingsomehow,

andI’mrelieved.Heturnsofftheengine,thengetsoutandcirclesaroundtoopenthedoorforme.He
holdsmyhandaswegooverthecobblestonepath,andupthestairstotheporch.Beautifulpurpleflowers
areclimbingupthesides,theirscentfloatinginthebreeze.

“Whatkindofflowersarethose?”Isay,mynervouschatterfillinguptheairasheunlocksthedoor.

“Mymom’salwaysloved-”

I’mpulledthroughthedoorbyastronghand.Hislipsareonmineagain,warmandinviting.Myarms

automaticallylooparoundhisneck,pullinghimclosertome.Desiredripsbetweenmylegs,likehotfire
that’sthreateningtoovertakeme.Itiltmyhead,lettinghimpartmylipsandplundermymouth.Thekisses
aregettingmoreforcefulandfilledwithneed.Forme,Irealize,halfgiddyatthethought.Histeeth
nibblesgentlyonmylowerlip,suckingonitandmakingmykneesbuckle.Igrabdesperatelyontohis

shirt.Desirecomesroaringback,ahundredtimesstrongerthanbeforenowthatthere’snochanceforusto
beinterrupted.Hiskissescontinue,fastandroughandinsistent,ashetakesmetothelivingroom.We
crashintothearmofthesofabeforefallingintoit.

We’reamessofarmsaswefighttotearourclothesoffeachother.Logan’sjacketgoesfirst,followed

bymyskirt,andthentherearewaytoomanybuttonstoundo.ForamomentI’mlaughing,butthenIseehis
gorgeousnakedbody,andmylaughterevaporates.Hiscockishuge.Likelegitimatelyenormous.I
swallowhard.

“What’swrong?”heasks.“Youlookpetrified.”
Idoahalfshrug.Humiliationburnsthroughme,lacedwithfearforwhatlayahead.Ican’tdecideon

whatIreallywant.

“I’m.I’mnot.It’sjust-”
Hestopsmewithafinger.
“Icantellwhenyou’relyingMikayla.You’reterribleatit.”
Isqueezemyeyesshut.
“I’veneverdonethiswithanyonebefore,”Isayinonebreath.
Icarefullyopenuponeeye,expectingLogantolaugh,buthedoesn’t.Insteadhejustlookssurprised.
“You’restillavirgin?”hesays,somethingdarkandlowinhisvoice.
“Maybe,”Isay,myfacecompletelyredatthispoint.
“Andareyouwaitingforsomeonespecial?”heasks.
“Notanymore,”Iletslipout.
“Good.BecauseIwantyoutonight,”hesays,lustcracklinghisvoiceattheedges.
Hisfingertipstracemyjawline,downthestrapsofmybraandovermybreast,beforereachingbehind

metoundothehooks.Mybradropsdown,revealingmytight,highnipples.Hetracesthemwiththebarest
oftouches,butit’senoughtostealawaymybreath.

“Perfect,”hemurmurs.“Absolutelyperfect.”
Ihavenoideahowhistouchescandowhattheydo,buthe’smakingmewobblywithdesirewithjust

hisfingertips.Nobody,notevenJake,hasmademefeelthishotandwetmyentirelife.ThewayLoganis
going,takinghistime,stretchingouteachsecondofbliss,isawholedifferentlevelofpleasure.

Andthenhedropshismouthdownovermybreast,tonguepressedflataroundmynipple.Aboltof

pleasurezipsthroughmelikeelectricityashesucksontomynipple.Igaspwithpleasureashesqueezes
myotherbreast,mywholebodybecomingsoftandpliableunderhistouch.ItfeelssogoodthatInever
wantittostop.Theroughpadsofhisfingerspullandrollmysensitivenipples.Mypantieswere
definitelysoakedbynow,thefabricclingingtomypussyashisfingerstraceoverthem.Myeyesflyopen
asawholenewsensationfloodsthroughme.Wowhe’sgood,Imanagetothinkforhalfasecondbefore
histhumbdoessomethingelsetomyclitthatmakesmemoanbeforeIcanstopmyself.Iwanttoaskhim
whathe’sdoing,butIdon’thaveanywordsleft,anditdoesn’tmatteranyways,becausehe’spullingoff
mypantiesandslidingafingerintomeinstead.

“Oh,”Iwhisper,eyeswideasIlookupathim.
Ifeelcompletelyoutofcontrol,mymindsurrenderingtowhateveritismybodywants.It’sallIcan

dotoremembertobreathethroughthisdizzyinghazeofsensationshe’ssparkinginme.NerveendingsI
didn’tknowIhadarelightingupashestretchesoutmyhole.Wantbubbleseachtimehisthumbskates
overmyswollenclit.Hepusheshisfingerinandout,beforeinsertingasecond.It’ssuchatightfitthat
I’mnotsureIcantakehiscock,andmynervousnessreturns.

“Don’tworry,”Logansays.“Iwon’thurtyou.”
AllIdoiswhimperwithneed,withtrustasheinsertsathirdfinger,makingmecryoutwithpleasure.

I’mnotsureI’mevensayinghisnameeven.It’sjustajumbleofsoundsandinarticulatewanting.His
fingersthrustfasterinsideofme,somehowincreasingthedepthofmyneedevenashesatisfiesit.His

lipskissthesideofmyneck,myear,andthesensitivepartsofmyfleshthatleavesmearchingand
strainingunderneathhim.

“Please,”Ibegofhim,myhandsscramblingoverthehardmuscleofhisback,theoverwhelmingneed

curlingtighterandtighterinsideofme.

Logananswerswithagrowl,pushingmylegsapartsothattheheadofhiscocknudgesupagainstmy

pussy.Myhandstightenontohim,butItrustLogan’sword,andIclosemyeyesashepushesinsideofme
atlast.Painburstsinsideofmeasheslowlypushesforward,relentlesslytowardhisgoal.Imakea
stranglednoise,buryingmyselfagainsthimashiscockstretchesandfillsmetothebrim.I’mfull,sovery
full,andIcanhardlyspeakasLoganletsmegetusedtohissize.Andthenhe’smoving,slowatfirst,but
thenfasterandfaster.Hiscockplungesdeepinsideofme,fillingmeupbeforepullingbackalmost
entirelyoutofme.Ourbodiessmacktogether,hipscrashingtogethersohardIknowit’llleavemesore
tomorrow.

Eachstrokeleavesmegasping,painandpleasureswimmingtogetherinanintoxicatingcocktailof

sensation.Hispaceisunrelenting,pushingdeeperinsideofmeuntilIcantakenomoreofhim.Helifts
onelegforleverage,openingmeuptohimfurther.Histhrustscomehardandfast,thesteadyrhythm
becomingerraticashenearshisfinishtoo.Ifeelthepleasurecompounding,morethanI’veever
experienced,untilonetouchontomyclit,andtheballinsideofmereleasesentirely.Iseizeup,myvision
explodinginstars.It’slikeavolcano,anendlesseruptionofblindinghotpleasurethatsweepsmeaway.
Mywholebodysqueezestightlyaroundhiscock,andLogangruntsashepushesintomeonelasttime
throughmyorgasmtohisrelease.

Ifeelhiswholebodygorigidashecomesinsideofme,fillingmewithwarmseedthatoverflowsand

puddlesbeneathme.Mywholebodymeltsintothesofa,andIfeelLogancollapseontome,hotand
sweatyandsolid.Heslowlypusheshimselfoffofme,scoopingmeup.

“Wherearewegoing?”Iask,contentasacat.
“Thebedroom,”hereplieswithagrin.“There’salotmoreI’vebeenwantingtodotoyou.”

Logan

“Ishouldgo,”Mikaylasaystome.She’sstretchedoutluxuriouslyacrossmybed,herslenderporcelain
framealmostglowingagainstmydarksheets.Shelooksalmostvirginalasshesleepsonpeacefully,butof
course,Itookcareofthat.Ipushtheblanketlowerdownandtraceafingeralongherdelicatespine,over
theriseofherasstowardsherpussy.Herskinisincrediblysoft,likesilk,andIcan’tstopmyselffrom
touchingheroverandover.

“What’sthehurry?”IaskasIdipmyheadtowardshersforakiss.
“I’mhungry,”shesays,kissingmeback.“Youweren’tkiddingwhenyousaidyouhadtakeoutallthe

time.Ididn’tevenfindmilkinyourfridge.”

“There’swine.”
“AsmuchasIwouldlovetogetdrunkandstayhereinbedwithyouallday,Igottoeat.I’machef;

weloveourfood.”Shepullsawayreluctantly.“You’remakingitdifficult.”

“OfcourseIam.Youbelonginmybed,”Igrowl.“Besides,it’srainingandyoudon’thaveacar.

Wouldn’titbenicertohavesomeonecometouswithfood?”

“Youonlysaythatbecauseyouhaven’thadmybaconcarbonara,”shesays.
“NoIhaven’t.”Ilookintohereyes,whichlookedalmostgreentoday.“Youshouldmakeitforme.

Tonight.I’lldriveyoutothegrocerystoreinfact.”

“SoIhavenochoicebuttocomebackwithyou?”sheteases.
“Exactly.”
Idon’tknowwhatitisaboutMikayla,butI’mnotreadytolethergoyet.ButIcan’tgetenoughofher.

Iwanttoshowhereverything,seethelookofblissonherfaceasIturnheronandmakehercomeagain
andagain.I’mgettinghardjustthinkingaboutit.

“Comeon,”Isay,rollingoutofbedandextendingahand.Shetakesit,andIpullherup,myhands

droppingdowntocupherassandlifther,impalingherwetwarmthontomycock.Ihearhergaspandit
justmakesmeharder.“Let’sgotakeashower.”

**********

It’sanotherhourandahalflaterbythetimeweleave,andevenmystomach’sfeelingprettyhollow.
Mikayladirectsmetooneofthechicneighborhoodsinthecity,brimmingwithlocalboutiquesand
upscaleapartmentsmixedinwitholder,singlestoryhomes.There’salocalfarmer’smarkethereevery
weekend,andit’soneofherfavoriteplacestostopforbrunch,shetellsme.

“Theyhavetheseamazingomelets,”shesaysreverently.“Fluffyeggsandthefreshest,quirkiest

ingredientstoo.That’sthesignofagoodchefyouknow,whentheycanmaketheperfecteggs.”

I’veneverheardanyonefeelthisintenselyaboutanything.Mypreviousgirlfriends,ifyoucouldcall

themthat,weremostlyfocusedonmoney.Howmuchtheyhad,ortheirfriendshad.Afewofthemwanted
tobemodelsormoviestars,butbeyondthat,therewasn’tmuch.That’sprobablywhyitnevergotbeyond
sex.It’snotgoingbeyondsexhereeither,Itellmyself,onlyhalfbelievingit.Itcan’tbe.ButIadmired
howexcitedMikaylacouldbeaboutherjob,herpassion.She’dfoundwhatshewantedtodo,andhere
shewasdoingit.There’ssomethinginherentlyadmirableaboutawomanwhoisn’tafraidtodothat.She
catchesmewatchingherintentlyandblushes.

“Sorryforgoingonandon,”shesays.
“Don’tbe,”Isay.“Ithinkit’sgreatthatyou’rethisintofood.Youweredefinitelytherightchoicefor

thecompany.Haveyoualwaysknownyouwantedtobeachef?”

“SinceIwasyoung.Itwasn’tapprovedbymyparentsthough.Igotdecentgrades,andtheythought

thatcollegewouldbeabetterbet.Theywantedmetogetanofficejob,somethingwhereIwasn’t
standingalldayworkingwithmyhands.Ican’tblamethemthough.TheyworkedreallyhardsoIdidn’t
haveto.”

“Butyouwentforitanyways.”
“Yeah.IhadagoodfriendwhotoldmeIhadtotry.Sheforcedmetoapplytoculinaryschooleven.

Maybeyou’llbeabletomeethersometime,”shesayslightly.

Hereyesareontheroad,scanningforaspot.Meetingfriendswouldtakethingsonestepclosertoa

realrelationshipandIwasn’tsurehowtoanswerher.LuckilyIfoundaspotinthatmomentonthesideof
theroad.Iparkedthecar,grabbedtheumbrellainmybackseat,openeditup,andwentaroundto
Mikayla’sdoor.Shesmiledatmeasshetookmyhandandgotout.Wewalktogetherdownthesidewalk
andshepointsoutvariousplacestome.Clearlythisisaneighborhoodsheknowswell.

Mostofthepeopleonthesidewalkaremovingtowardsthesameplaceweare.Thefarmer’smarket

isheldinalarge,almostwarehouse-likespace.There’sgottobeoverahundredshopshere,anddespite
therain,it’sfullofpeople.Mikayladriftstowardastallwithavarietyofhoneyproducts.Thesmellof
foodmakesmystomachgrowl.

“Foodfirst,”Isayoverthedin.“Thenwecanlookaround.”
“Goodidea,”shesays.“Thisway.”
Sheleadsmealmosttotheheartofthewarehouse,wherealargeclusteroffoodstallsaresetup.

Therearetablesandchairsinaringaroundthem,chockfullofpeoplewiththeirpurchases.Linessnake
outfromthecounters.MyeyesjumpfromaclassicFrenchbakerypiledhighwithpastries,toanIndian
curryshop,toaPaninisandwichplace,toaseafoodstall.Mikaylaleadsmeovertooneofthecorner
stalls,whichhasmoreroomforatinyrowoflittletables.

“Herewego,”shesays.“Theygetalltheiringredientsfreshfromthemarket.Everythingonthemenu

isgood,Ipromise.”

“Buttheomeletsarethebest?”
“Definitely,”shesayswithagrin.
MikaylawavestooneofthegirlsbehindthecounterandchatswhileIgooverthemenu.I’mstarving,

andIfigureIshouldfollowMikayla’sleadonfood,soIgowiththeColoradoomelet.Weorder,andhead
straightforthetinytableattheveryback.

“Howdidyoufindthisplace?”Iask.
“Myveryfirstteacherinculinaryschooltoldustocome,sowecouldseehowrealingredients

lookedlike,notthepackaged,Styrofoamstuffinasupermarket.AndIjustkeptcoming.Ispentalotof
timehereafter-”shepausedforamoment,andsomethingflickeredinthoselighteyesthatsentasurgeof
somethinglikeprotectivenessthoughme.Thatcouldn’tbeit.

“Afterthingsgotabithardforme.She’snotheretoday,butCarla,she’stheownerofthisplace,she’s

likeagrandmaandshewasreallynice.Letmehangaroundeventhoughthemarketpackedupinthe
afternoon.Iworkedhereforabittooonesummer.”

IskirtthesensitivetopiceventhoughI’mcurious.InsteadIsteertheconversationtowardswhatelse

Mikaylaenjoyedhere,andthentowardsrecentmoviesandapopularbandthat’stouringherenextweek.
TalkingtoMikaylaiseasy,andIfindmyselfenjoyinghercompany.Ourlunchestogetherwerethisway
too,butwewerediscussingwork.Ididn’texpecttofindmyselfhavingsomuchfunwithher.

Oncewearedonewithourbrunch,wegrabcoffeesandwanderthemarket.Icouldn’thelpit;my

handsinstinctivelygotoMikayla’swaist,herback,thatdelicatecurveofherbodythatgetstheblood

rushingtomycock.TinytouchesthatIknewbettertodo,butIdothemanyways.Itisadamngoodthing
thefarmer’smarketistoobusyforpeopletogetagoodlookatmyjeans.I’mfindingitimpossibleto
suppressmydesireforher.Iwouldhavetakenherbackhomethenandthereifitwasn’tforthefactthat
she’sintroducingmetoafewofthelocalsuppliersforournewmenu.Itwasgoodtomeetthesepeople,
tolistentotheworkthattheydotomaketheirfoodaswellasfortheircommunities.Itreassuresmethat
thiswastherightdirectiontotakewithRedCanyonSteakhouse.

Mikaylaasksherfriendsaboutwhat’sgoodandturnstome.
“Wouldyoulikelambfordinner?”sheasks.
“Lamb?”
“Wellyousaidyouwantedmetocook...”shepausesuncertainly.“They’vegotalovelyrackoflamb.

IfiguredIcoulddoamintsaucetoo,maybesomepotatoesontheside.ButIdon’thavetoifyou’rebusy
withworkstuff.”

“It’snotthat,”Iassureher.Ilikethatshewantsmetostaythisweekend.“Ithoughtyouweregoingto

makebaconcarbonara.”

“Icandothattomorrownight.”
IthinkofanothertwentyfourhourswithMikayla,anditsoundsgood.
“Tomorrownightthen,”Isay.“AndI’mholdingyoutoit.”
WhatIthinkwillbeaquicktenminutesturnsintoalotlongerasshecarefullyselectsheringredients.

WhereIseejustaslabofmeat,Mikaylanoticesthemarblingofthefatandthecolorofthemeat.She
pressesmintbetweenherfingerstosmellforfreshness.Thededicationshetakeswithherfoodis
fascinatinganddeeplyadmirable.Shedidn’tjustsayshecaredaboutlocal,freshfoodtogetajob.She
livedit.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIdatedsomeonewhowasn’tartificial.Mikayla’slikeabreathof
freshair.

“Okay,”shesaysonceshe’stakenusaroundthemarketandpickedupafewthingsfordinner.“I’m

readytogobackifyouare.”

Icanseeasmiletuggingatherlips.She’sasexcitedasIamtogoback.
“Good,”Isay.
Takingherhand,Icutapaththroughthecrowd.Idon’twanttowasteanothersecondouthere.Not

whenthere’ssomuchmoreIwanttodowithher.We’realmostattheexitwhenmyphonerings.Ipullit
out.

“Damnit,”Imutter.It’sSean.Idon’twanttodealwithwork.Iwant,forjustoneday,forthecompany

tonotbeinacrisis.“HoldonasecondMikayla.”

ItakeafewstepsbeforeIhitthebuttontopickupthecall.
“Whatisit?”
Seangetsrightdowntoit.Ilistenforaminute,atightfurybuildinginmyabdomenashetellsmewhat

he’sfoundout.

“Thanks,”Isayoncehe’sdone.“I’llcomeinrightaway.”
Islipmyphonebackinmypocket.Mikayla’sataflowerstall,bendingdowntosmellaflower,her

clothbagbulgingwiththefeastsheisgoingtoprepareformetonight.Ilikethewayshemoves,easily
andgracefullyunawareofherownbeauty.I’msurprisedbyjusthowreluctantIamtoputherasidefor
work,yetanotherfirst.Butthere’snothingforit.Ineedtogetridofthepoisoninmyfather’scompany.
OnlythencanIrelax,andwhat?WhatelsedidIhaveinmylifeasidefromwork?

Mikayla?

Mikayla

EventhoughI’vefinishedupwithcreatingthenewmenu,workhasn’tstopped.There’sthenextseasonto
thinkabout,plusextramenuitemsthatdidn’tmakeitintotherelaunch,likedesserts,appetizers,etc.ButI
haven’tbeenabletofocusonanyofthat.It’sbeenalmostthreedayssinceLoganandItalked.NotthatI’m
obsessivelykeepingtrackoranything,butofcourseIsortofam.AfterhegotoffthephoneattheFarmer’s
MarketonSaturday,heexplainedthatsomethingimportanthadcomeupatwork,somethinghe’dbeen
workingonforalongtimenow.ItwassupposedtohopefullyensurethatRedCanyonSteakhousenever
gotintothesituationitisinnow.SoofcourseItoldhimitwasn’taproblem.Ithoughtitwouldonlytake
adayortwo,butsincethenIhaven’tgottenachancetoevenseehim.Iguessthatworkthinghehadmust
notbegoingwell.

Itoywiththeideaofgoingtohisofficeandseeinghowhe’sdoing,butIstopmyself.Surewehada

fantasticweekend,andsureitseemedlikeweweregettingalonggreat,butweareinnowayacouple.I
shouldn’tbetryingtofindhimjustto...what?Talk?Seehowhe’sdoing?Ugh.NotonlyamIavirginin
bed,I’mprettyinexperiencedatdatingtoo.ThinkingaboutsexremindsmeofhowLoganmademecome
overandoverinjustonenight.HowthehellhadIgoneforsolongwithoutsuchmind-numbingpleasure?
Itightenmythighstogether.God,thelastthingIneedistogetturnedonatwork.

TheminutesdragbyuntilfinallyIcango.AnotherdaywithoutLogan.Igrabmypurseanddecideto

headovertoViolet’s.I’mnotinthemoodtobeallaloneathome.Ishootheratext,stopbytheliquor
storeforabottleofwine,andheadtoherapartment.

“Hey-”
Iwalkthroughthedoorandflopontothecouch.She’salreadygottwowineglassesout,andIwasteno

timeinpouringoutaglassforme.

“Canwejustorderpizzatonight?”Iask.
Shefrownsandsitsdown,curlingupinthearmchairlikeagracefulcat.
“You’vegotitbaaaaaaad,”sheobserves.“Didsomethingmorehappenthanjustsex?”
“Well,therewasalotofit,”IsayasItakeanothersip.
Violetsighs.
“Mikayla,youcan’tjustgiveawayyourhearttosomeguyafteronenight,”shesays.“That’snotthe

definitionofarebound.”

“Canyouevencallitthatwhenit’sbeenyearssinceIbrokeupwithJake?”
“Yes.Icanwhenyoustillhaven’tproperlyprocessedit.Youjustshutdownthatpartofyourlife

completely.”Violet’sexpressionsoftened.“Iknowhehurtyou,butthatdoesn’tmeanthatallmenare
horrid.Youjustcameacrossabadone.”

“CanyoublameforavoidingthemifI’mallworkedupafterjustonenight?”Ishakemyhead.“The

worstthingis,it’snotlikeheeverreallyledmeonyouknow,tothinkthattherewouldbesomething.I
justneedtogetthatthroughmybrain.Anyways,letsorderandputNetflixon.I’mreadytodiveintoa
sappymovieandforgetaboutLogan.”

“Soundsgood,”Violetsaid.“Theusual?”
Ourusualwaspepperoni,Italiansausageandolives.It’smyoneguiltypleasureandconcessionto

fast,processedfoods.

“Yep.Let’sputextracheeseontoptoo,”Isay,toppingupmyglassofwine.

Justthenmyphonerings.MyheartjumpsandIsitup,grabbingmyphonewaytooquickly.Onlythis

time,itactuallyisLogan.Ialmostdecidetomakehimwait,butI’mcrapatplayinggameslikethat.Ihit
thebuttonandputthephonetomyear.

“Hello?”
Hisvoiceisrichanddarkandsendsmybreathingintooverdrive.
“Hi,”Isayhesitantly.
“Mikayla.I’msorrythatwhat’shappeningatworkhasdraggedonforsolong.ButIwaswonderingif

maybetonightwecouldhavethatdinneryoutalkedabout.”

“Dinner.Oh!Youmeanthepasta?I-”IglanceoveratViolet,readytosayno,butshe’sgesturingfor

metogo.“Iwouldloveto.Howaboutsix-”Violetholdsupsevenfingers.“Seven.”Ifrownather,and
shemouthsthewordshower.

“Sevensoundsperfect,”Logansays.“I’llbethere.”
Iendthecall.Violet’salreadytuggingmeoutofthesofaandpushingmetowardsthedoor.
“Youdon’thavealotoftime,”shesays.“Youneedtotakeashoweranddosomethingwithyour

hair.”

“DoIreallylookthatbad?”Iwonder.Icheckmyreflectioninthehallway.Myhair’sdefinitely

creasedfrombeinginaponytailallday,butIdon’tlookterrible.

“Well,youcouldlookbetter.Thisisonlyyourseconddate.Plussevengivesyoutimetodoaloadif

youdon’thaveanyclean,matchingunderwear.”

“ThanksforlookingoutformeVi,”Isaydryly.“Youdon’tthinkIshouldputsomedistanceandcool

offalittle?”

Sheputsbothhandsonmyshouldersandlooksmeintheeye.
“No.Ithinkyou’refinallyputtingyourselfoutthereandit’sabouttime.Logansoundslikeaniceguy.

Justmakesureyouuseprotectionandcallmetomorrowmorning,gotit?”

**********

There’sapartofmethatwishesthatViolethadsaideightsoIcouldhavemoretimetoprepare.Thefirst
thingIdowhenIgetbackhomeisrunaroundpickingupeverythinganddumpingitintothewashing
machine.Theapartmentmightbeairyandspaciousinthekitchen,butitdefinitelylacksstorage.Itdoesn’t
helpthatIhaven’thadtimetogotoIkeatopickoutsomefurniture,soallmystuffiseitherinboxespiled
uporonthefloor.NotexactlythesexyvibethatI’mgoingfor.IdigoutacandlethatVioletgavemeasa
Christmaspresentafewyearsback.Itsmellsniceatleast.Assoonaseverything’sbeenshovedaway,I
runandtakeashower,takingthetimetoreallymakemyselflookgood.

Butthencomestheclothes,andI’mataloss.Itseemsridiculoustometoputonadresstocook

dinner,especiallywhenit’sathome.HeknowsI’vejustcomehomefromwork,whywouldIputon
somethingmoreuncomfortable?Atthesametime,Idon’twanttowearwhatInormallywear-sweatsand
anoversizeteeshirtIgotfrommylast5krace.Afterstandinginfrontofmyclosetforfartoolong,I
decidetogowithalightmaxidressthatIalwaysgotcomplimentson.NotthatIroutinelyweardresses,
buthey,Logandoesn’tknowthatyetright?

WithhowmuchIhadtodo,Ibarelyhavepastafinishedwhenheringsthedoorbell.
“Hi,comein,”Isayshyly,steppingback.“Sorryforthemessinhere.”
“Don’tworryaboutit,”hesays.
Hiseyestakeinmybodyinmydress,andthere’sanintensitytothemthatmakesmyheartstop

beating.Iwanthisstronghandsalloverme,butIcan’tjustlungeattheguywhenhehasn’tevenwalked
throughmydoor.

“Pasta’salmostdone,”Iremembertosay.

HeliftsupabottleofwineashecomesintomyapartmentandIclosethedoor.
“Ifigureifyouweregoingtocookdinnerforme,Ishouldbringsomethingtoo,”hesays.
“Thanks.”
AbitofwineisjustwhatIneed,andIgrabtheglassessohecouldpouroutsomeforeachofus.I

takethepastaandswirlitintotwobowlsforusandbringthemovertothetable.Ithoughtthatmaybewe
wouldn’tevengettodinnerbeforeweripeachother’sclothesapart,buttomysurprise,Loganholds
back.

“Whatdoyouthink?”Iasknervouslytofillupthespace.
“Ilikeit,”hesays.“Icanseewhyyou’resoproudofit.Isthisyourownrecipe?”
“Myfamily’s,”Isay.“I’mhalfItalianandhalfScottish.”
“IsthatwhyyouwanttogotoItalysomuch?”heasks.
I’msurprisedthatheremembers,butInod.
“That’sright,”Isay.“I’msecondgenerationItalian,soonlymygrandmaisreallyItalian,butthere’s

beenlotsoftraditionsandrecipespasseddown.Iwouldloveforachancetogobacktherethough,and
seewhereItrulycomefrom.”

“AndyourScottishhalf?”
“Well,they’renotexactlyknownfortheirfood.Imean,wedon’teveneathaggis,”Isay,pullinga

face.

Loganlaughs,alovelyrichlaughthatIcouldlistentoanytime.
“I’vehadhaggisbefore,”hesays.“Ittastesmuchbetterifyoudon’tknowwhatitiswhenyoueatit.”
“Soyou’vetraveledthere?”
“Ihave,”hesays.“Myfatherdidn’tbelieveinspoilingme,buthedidwanttomakesurethatIgotto

experiencethingshenevergotto.WetraveledeverysummersinceIwassixyearsold.Itwasoneofthe
highlightsofmychildhood.He’dsortofrelaxonthosetrips,mostlybecausesmartphonesweren’tathing
backthen.ItwastheonlytimeI’dseehimreallysmilealot.”

Ifeelawarmthinmyheartasheconfidesinme.Dinnerflowsalong,andIfeelmyselfconnecting

withLogan.He’ssuchaninterestingpersonthatbeforeIknowit,allthefoodisgone,andit’sjustmeand
him.

“Dessert!”Isay,jumpingupandgoingtothefridge.Iopenthedoor,butit’sslimpickings.Icould

whipsomethingupifIhadtime,butIdon’tthinkLogancameovertowatchmebake.“There’ssome
strawberriesand-”

“There’sonlyonedessertIwant,”hesays,soclosetomeIcanfeelhisbreathonmyneck.Iturn

aroundquicklyandlookupathim,mybodyrespondingonitsownaccord.Thosemuscularshoulders,
thosestormyblueeyes,it’sallsofuckingsexythatIcan’tresist.Myheartisslammingagainstmychest
whenLoganfinallyputsmeoutofmymiseryandkissesme,tonguethrustingintomymouth,body
slammingmebackagainstthefridge.Icantellhowhungryheisforme,anditmakesmeincrediblywet.

“Bedroom,”hegrowlsatme,andIhurriedlybringhimtomyroom.Ireallyshouldn’thavebothered

withtryingtomakethebed,becauseLogan’seyesareonlyonmeashetellsmetotakeoffmyclothes.
HiseyesrakeovermeasIcarefullypushthestrapsofmydressdownmyshoulders,thefabricpuddling
ontheflooraroundme.IhearanappreciativehissasheseesthatIhaven’tbotheredwithabra.My
nipplestightenwiththesuddencontactwithair.FinallyItakeoffmypanties,untilI’mcompletelynaked
infrontofhim.Iblush,andmyfirstinstinctistocoverup,buthewon’tletme.

Hishandsmoveovermyback,myhips,myassandsqueezespossessively.Hetakeshistimewithhis

ownclothes,eyesfastenedontomine.

“Iwantyoutosuckmeoff,”hesays,andIdroptomyknees.
Hiscocklookspositivelymassivebobbinginfrontofme.Iwrapmymoutharoundthehead,swirling

mytonguearoundtherimbeforetakinghimasmuchasIcan.IhearasharpintakeofbreathandIcan’t

helpbutsmile.I’vegottenprettygoodatthisIthink.Isuckalittleharderandgripontohisshaftwithmy
hand,workingupanddowntogether.Logancontinuestogroanaboveme,hishandspushingmyhairback
sohecangetagoodlonglook.Hishipsmovewithme,fuckingmymouthhard.Ilickhislongcock,
suckinghardeachtimeIgettothebulboustip,beforetakingLoganallthewayagain.Hepushespastinto
mythroat,untilI’malmostgagging.

“Ontothebed,”LogancommandsandIobey.“BeforeIcomeinyourmouth.”
Ican’tlookawayasheslowlypartsmylegsandclimbsontopofme.Hekissesmeonceonthelips,

andthendropsmoreslowlydownthesensitivehollowofmyneck,betweenmybreasts,beforeplucking
mynippleintohismouthwithahardsuck.Igasp,backarchinguptogetclosertohiswarmmouthas
desireradiatesfrommybreast.Hetoyswithme,kissing,licking,suckingbeforetrailingdownmy
stomach,anddowntobetweenmyopenlegs.

“Youtastefuckingfantastic,Mikayla,”hegrowls,justinchesaboveme.
Iwhimperashistongueskatesacrossmylips,flickingintomyentranceandcausinganotherspurtof

liquidtocomeout.Hedoesitagain,andasoftmoanescapes,filledwithfrustrationandlonging.Iwant
himtohurry,buthe’stakinghisownsweettime,onehandclampingfirmlyontomylegtokeepmefrom
buckinguptohisface.MyhelplessnessissohotanderoticthatI’mpracticallysoakingmysheets.Ihold
upmyheadforamomentandseethepleasureinLogan’sblueeyesbeforehedipsdownbetweenmylegs
again.Pleasurecoursesthroughmeashetastesme,kissesme,fucksmewithhistongue.Isurrender
completelytohim,lettinggoashepusheshisfacedeeperinsideofme,searching,questingdeeperand
deeper,hisfingerspushingapartmyfoldssohecangethisfacerightupagainstmypussy.Theroughness
ofhisstubblejustaddsanotherlayerofintensitytoitall.

Itrytoholdout,butI’mtooclosetotheedge,andthere’snothinglefttodobutbracefortheimpactof

myorgasmhurtlingtowardsme.Ecstasycomesallatonce,withtheforceofawave,draggingmeunder
andmakingmeblackoutwithpleasure.Igrindmyhipsagainsthismouth,ridingonLogan’sfaceashe
gulpsmedown.Hedoesn’tstop,touchingmeagainandagainintheperfectspottosetoffanotherchain
reaction,untilI’mfinallyfloatingbackdowntoreality,feelingalmostbonelessandexhaustedfrommy
orgasms.There’sacrinklebutIhardlyhearitoverthepoundingofmyheart.

Everypartofmybodyisinexquisitepainandpleasure.Loganliftsmylegsup,throwsthemoverhis

shoulder,andslideshiscockintomysoppingpussy.Hefitslikeaglove,andIlockmylegsaroundhis
hipsashepumpsintome.EventhoughI’mtiredandcontent,Ialreadyfeeldesirebuildingupinsideme
againashefucksme,ridingmehardandfastaswecometogetheronelasttime.

MyemotionsareswirlingthroughmewhenLoganfinallypushesoffofme.Ifeelrawandexposed

andafraid.ThisiswhatIwant,morethananythingIcouldimagine.Iwishtherewasawaytoputitall
intowords,butitallfeelstoofragile,asthoughspeakingcouldbreakthebubblewe’rein.

Logan

IwakeupthenextmorningfeelinglighterthanIhavethepastfewdays.Eventhoughthemeetingthis
morningloomsinmymind,IfeelgreatwakingupwithMikayla.She’ssmallandfragile,nestledagainst
mybody.Mycockhardensbetweenherasscheeks,andshemurmurssomethingsoftlyinhersleep.The
temptationtofuckheragainishardtoresist,butthere’llbetimeforthatlater.RightnowIhavetodeal
withthelastobstacletogettingmyfather’scompanybackontrack.IcarefullyslipoutofbedsoIdon’t
disturbMikaylaandheadintotheshower.

WhenIcomeout,I’mgreetedbythesmellofsausagesandeggssizzlinginapan.There’sasteaming

mugofcoffeeatthetable,andMikayla’smovingaroundthekitcheninjustanoversizetee.Itskimsjust
belowherass,andIliftiteasilyasIslidemyselfagainsther.Myhandsreachtocupherbreasts,pinching
androllinghernipplesasshetiltsherheadback,asoftmoanescapingherlips.

“Morning,”Isayhuskily.“Youlookamazing.”
“You’regoingtomakemeburnbreakfastatthisrate,”shemurmurs.“Andwe’regoingtobelate.”
“I’mtheboss.IcangoinwheneverIwant.”
“Ican’tthough,”shesayssoftly.“AndI’drathernothaveeveryonetalkingaboutus.”
Ireluctantlylethergoandgrabthemugofcoffee.Mikayla’sdoneafantasticjobwithbreakfast,anda

guycouldreallygetusedtothiseverymorning.NotonlyhowmuchIloveseeingMikayla’sbreastsshake
whenIfirstslamintoher,buthowmuchIenjoyseeingheroutofthebedroomtoo.Thethoughtistherein
thebackgroundofmymindasweeat,getready,andheadtowork.WhereasonceIonlythoughtabouta
womanwhenIwantedtofuckher,nowMikaylatakesupprettymuchmyentireday.It’sgoingtobea
problemsoon,oneI’llhavetofigureoutawaytodealwith.Butnottoday.

OnceIgetintotheparkinglotIexpecthertogo,butshepauses.
“You’reverytense,”sheobserves.“Issomethingwrongatwork?”
“Hopefullynotforlong.Ican’ttalkaboutitorelseI’lllosecontrol,butsufficetosay,I’veuncovered

someonedoingalotofdamagetothecompany.He’sthereasonwhywe’reinthismesstobeginwith.But
allofthatendstoday.”

Shelooksintomyeyesandsmiles.
“Ihopeitwillallworkouthowyouwant,”shesays.“You’veworkedsohard,youdeservetohave

thingsgowell.”

Withthat,shegetsoutofthecar.I’msurprisedbyhowmuchshecares.Unfortunately,onceMikayla

leaves,mybadmooddescendsagain.Let’sjustgetthisoverwith,Ithink.ThismeetingwithKevinwill
hopefullybetheendofRedCanyonSteakhouse’stroubles.

KevinarrivesatmyofficesoonafterIgetmymorningcoffee.Icarefullysetamicrophonetorecord,

tomakesurethathewouldn’tbeabletogetawaywithallthedamagehe’sdone.I’vepreparedmywords
forourmeeting,butassoonasheshowsupI’mseeingred.Thiswassupposedtobemyfather’strusted
friend,hisrighthandman.Ican’tbelievethathe’stheoneresponsiblefortryingtodestroywhatmyfather
hasbuilt.

WhenSeanfirsttoldmeaboutthediscrepancies,Iwasastonishedthatithadbeensowidespreadin

thecompany.ButthenSeanandIbothrealizedthattheonlywaythiscouldhavehappenedwasifsomeone
highupwasorchestratingthings.Ittookawhiletodigupwhocouldhavebenefited.ImadeSeango
througheverypersoninthecompany,onebyone,untilfinally,theonlyoneleftwasKevin.Ididn’twant

tobelieveit.Kevinhadbeentherefromthebeginning,whenmyfathertookoverthefirstRedCanyon
Steakhouse.Whyonearthwouldhehavewantedthecompanytofail?Istillcouldn’tunderstandit.

“Logan,”Kevinsaideasily.“Howareyoudoing?”
“Sit,”Isaidcurtly,tryinghardtoreininmyanger.“IhavesomethingIwanttotalktoyouabout.”
“Ofcourse,”hesaid.“What’sgoingon?”
Istudyhisface,tryingtoseehowthefuckercouldlookatmelikethis,asifhe’ddonenothingwrong.
“YoucanstoppretendingKevin.Iknow.Iknoweverythingyou’vedonetotryandruinthecompany

myfatherbuilt.Youcouldn’tpossiblythinkthatyoucouldhavegottenawaywithitformuchlongeronceI
broughtSeanonboard.”

Kevin’smouthsetforamomentbeforetheangerburstoutofhim.
“Yourfatherwasanungratefulbastard!Twentyfiveyears,twentyfive,I’veworkedunderhim,toiling

andslavingaway,believinginyourfather’sdream.Latenights,workingweekends,Ididitall.Mywife
leftme,Ineverseemykids,butIdidit.IdiditallforRedCanyonSteakhouseandwhatyourfathertold
meitwasgoingtobe.Andthen,insteadofretiringlikeheshouldhave,hekeptgoing,becausehewanted
youtotakeoverthebusiness.Wouldn’tgiveitup.Passedmeover,eventhoughIkneweverybitofthis
business.Ibuiltitfromthegroundupwithyourfatherbutitwasn’tgoodenoughforhim.Hehadtogiveit
tohisson,whohadnostakeinthebusinessandwantedtogolarkingofftoSiliconValleytomakeapps!”

Theragepoursoffhimlikelavafromavolcanoandmyjawtightens.Thereisnothingtodobuttry

andcontrolmyownemotionsasKevinleapstohisfeet,pacingbackandforth.Icouldseespittleflying
fromhismouthandIamsecretlygladhewasn’tinmyfaceinstead.

“Italkedtohim,beggedhim,dideverythingIcouldtoproveIwasworthy.Andinsteadofhearingme

out,heturnedhisshoulderonme.Shutmeout.Well,Ididn’tgettowhereIwasthislongjusttobeleft
withnothing,soIdecidedIwouldtakewhat’smine.Itwasn’thard.Yourfathermayhavebeentheboss,
butIwasrunningthings.Ifedhimalltheinformationtokeephimhappy,untilitwastoolateforhimand
everythingstartedtofallapart.Iwouldhavebledthiscompanydryifithadn’tbeenforthestupidfool’s
heartattack.”

“Ican’tbelievethis.Youknow,youwouldhavegottenyourwishifyouhadwaited.EventhoughI

knowthatonedayIwouldrunthecompany,Iwantedtodootherthingsfirst.Makemymarkoutsideofmy
father’sshadow.Iwouldhavebeenhappytohandoverthereinsifthecompanyhadbeenthriving,”Isay
tohim.

“Asif.Youroldmanmadeitcleartomethattherecouldbenooneelse.Hiswillsaidasmuch.No,

allmyhardworkcountedfornothingwithyourfather.IwasjusttakingwhatIwasowed.”

Ishakemyheadwearilyandpunchabutton.
“Mrs.Stiller,canyousendinthedetective?”
Kevin’smouthdropsopen.
“Youdidn’thonestlythinkthatIwouldjustletyougetawaywiththisdidyou?”Igrowl.“Youwere

goingtoputhundredsofpeopleoutofajob.Youstolefromthecompany.CongratulationsKevin.You’re
goingtogetwhatyoudeserve,butIdon’tthinkit’swhatyouwant.Oh,andyou’reterminatedeffective
immediately,”Iadd.“I’llhavesomeoneclearoutyouroffice.”

ThedetectivewalksinandIhandovertherecorder.
“Youcan’tdothis,”Kevinsays,hisfaceturningalmostpurple.“Youcan’trecordmewithoutmy

permission.”

“SureIcan,”IsayasIwatchhimgethandcuffed.“I’myourboss.”
I’mabletokeepitcooluntilthedoorsclose,butthenI’mseething.Eventhoughitfeltgoodtosee

Kevingettakenaway,I’mstillfurious.Notonlyathimforhisbetrayal,butformyfathertoo,who
couldn’tseemtoseethetruth,whowassodesperatetoholdontopoweranddothingshiswaythathe
jeopardizedeverything.Islammyfistonthetable.WearesoluckySeanwasabletofindthecauseof

this.NowwejustneedMikayla’srevampedmenutostartbringinginthecustomeragainandmaybewe’ll
beabletopullthough.

ThethoughtofMikaylaloosensupmyshoulders.She’sexactlywhatIwantrightnow.ButIdon’t

wanttomakehercookforme.She’sdonemorethanenoughofthatalready.Maybewecouldeatout,
someplacewhereIcanholdherhandwithoutworryingthatsomeonewillcatchus.Istandupandwalk
outofmyoffice.

“I’mgoingoutMrs.Stiller,”Isaytomysecretary.“Pleaseholdmycalls.TheonlypersonIwantto

hearfromisthedetectiveifheneedsme.”

“Sir,”shesays,standingup.“Iwantedtosaythatyou’redoingawonderfuljob.Yourfatherwould

havebeenveryproudofyou.Thisisallhe’severwanted.”

Herwordsstiruptroublingemotions,butIacceptthemanyways.
“Thankyou,”Isay.“ButIknowthatIcouldn’tdohalfaswellwithoutyouandeveryoneelseworking

here.”

SheturnsbacktoherdeskandIheaddownstairsontheelevators.Mikayla’sinthekitchen,andfora

momentIjustlookatherthroughthewindowinthedoor.I’dbestupidtolethergo,tonottryandmake
thiswork.BecauseIdidwantto.Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,Iwantsomeonetocareandprotect,
someonetonurtureandlove,whowouldwanttodothesameformetoo.Thestrengthofthatemotion
suckerpunchesmeinthegut,andIhavetotakeasteadyingbreathbeforeIopenthedoorandwalkin.

Mikayla

EventhoughIhavealotonmyplate,myminddrawsablankasIstareintothepantry.Whatonearth
shouldImake?Ihavenoclue.InsteadmymindwanderstothemeetingLoganissupposedtohavetoday.
Whocoulditbewith?Iknowthatithassomethingtodowithwhat’shappeningwithRedCanyon
Steakhouseandwhyit’sinsuchaterriblestaterightnow,butthat’sit.Ihopeeverythingisworkingout.I
hopethatwhateveriswrong,Logan’sfoundawaytofixit,andIhope,ratherselfishly,thatitmeansmy
jobissafe.NotonlywillImissbeingabletocreateandcookeveryday,butI’llmissseeingLogan
himselftoo.

Seeinghimasecondtimehasmehopefulthatwhathappenedbetweenuswasn’tjustaonenightstand

forhimtoo.I’vealreadyspentenoughtimetryingtoanalyzeitall,andthemoreIthinkaboutit,themore
confusedIamaboutwhat’sgoingonandwhatIwantfromit.Logan’snevertriedtoleadmeon,never
promisedmeanythingmorethanthenight.SowhydomythoughtsgetsojumbledeverytimeIthinkof
him?

“Ineedtogetagrip,”Imutter.“Let’stackleappetizers.”
RedCanyonSteakhouse’smenuusedtobeahuge,bloatedthing.Thereweresome200odditemson

it.I’vesystematicallyslasheditdownfortherebranding,butIknowthatifwe’retokeepthecustomers,
thenextstepwouldbetocompletelyoverhaulthemenu,updateittotheseason.There’llalwaysbeacore
setofitemsonthemenuthathopefullybeahitwiththecustomersandthatiswhatIdecidetotackletoday.
I’venarroweditdowntoaboutfiveitemswhenthedooropensandLoganstepsthrough.Ilookupand
smilebutitquicklydisappears.

“What’swrong?”Iask,standingup.“Didthemeetingnotgowell?”
IthoughtthathewouldbewalkingincheerierthanI’dlefthimthismorning,butifanythinghelooks

moreupset.Hisblueeyesaredarkandstormy.Hecomesover,andtomysurprise,cupsmyfaceand
kissesme,slowanddeep.Mybodyresponds,meltingagainsthis,beggingformore.I’moutofbreathby
thetimehepullsaway.

“I’mbetternow,”hesayssoftly.“Comeon,Iwanttotakeyououtforlunch.Icanexplaineverything

then.”

Ittakeseverythinginmetonotreachoutandpullhisbodycloseagain,butLogan’smindison

somethingelsesoInodandgrabmypurse.HepicksoutaPeruvianrestaurantthat’sjustopenedtorave
reviewsforlunch.Theplaceispackeddespitethefactthatwe’rehereahalfhourbeforenoon.Thisis
whatI’mhopingforRedCanyonSteakhousetoo.Oncewe’resettledandthewaitresshastakenour
ordersandmenus,hesighs.

“Themeeting,”Iprompt.
“Itdidn’tgowell,”hesayswithashakeofhishead.“Itturnsoutthattheoneresponsibleforitallis

Kevin,myfather’soldestfriend.He’sbeenatthecompanysincethestart,andI’mworriedaboutwhat
it’lldotomoralewhenpeoplefindout.Itcameasashocktomeeven.”

“Whywouldhehavedonesuchathing?”Iask,shocked.EveninsuchashorttimeI’vebeenatthe

companyIknowallaboutKevin.Infact,manypeoplecredithimforkeepingthecompanygoingforas
longasitdid.

“Kevinwasangrythatmyfatherpickedmetosucceed.Infact,that’swhyfatherwasworkingeven

thoughhecouldhavetechnicallyretired.Hejustdidn’twanttohandoverthereinstoanyoneelse.Kevin

thoughtthatafterallhiswork,itdeservedtogotohim,andwhenmyfatherrefused,hedecidedhe’dtake
thecompanyforhimselfanyways.Hewassystematicallybleedingthecompanydry.”

Igasp.
“That’s,that’sterrible,”Isaysoftly.“Atleastyourfatherneverfoundoutthathisbestfriendwas

doingsuchathingtohim.”

Iknowbetrayalandjusthowmuchitcandotoaperson.ButLogansnorts.
“SomehowIdoubtthathedidn’tknow.Ithinkitwasmorelikehechosenottoknow.Thecompany

washavingproblems.EvenifKevindidhisbesttohidethematfirst,there’sonlysolongbeforethe
cracksstarttoshow.Andinsteadoftryingtodosomethingaboutit,hehidittoo,becausehecouldn’t
standtofacethatitwasfallingapart,”hesaysflatly.“Myfatherwasanidiotforlettinghispridegetin
theway.”

“Hetrustedhisfriend,”Iprotest.“Youcan’tblamehimforthat.”
“Ican.Whathedidwasfoolishandalmostdestroyedthingsforeveryone.Insteadofseekinghelp

fromsomeone,hechosetopretenditwasallokay,anditputhimsixfeetunder.”

Hiswordsstabintomygut.Myhandsclenchattheclothnapkinonmylap.IfeelashamedandIdon’t

knowwhy.

“Hey,let’sforgetaboutallthat,”hesays,sensingmytensionandreachingahandouttomine.“Itook

yououttolunchbecauseit’salldonewithfinally.Wecanrelax.Aslongastherelaunchgoeswell,Ithink
RedCanyonSteakhouseisintheclear,andIthinkthatdeservesacelebration,don’tyou?”

ButthelastthingIfeellikedoingiscelebrating.
“What’swrong?”heasks.
“It’shappenedtometooyouknow,”Isay,thewordsslippingoutbeforeIcouldstopthem.Ihadn’t

intendedontellingLogan.“Inmyfirstrelationship.Wehadbeenfriendsforawhilebeforewegot
together,andIneverhadareasontosuspecthimofcheating.Buthehad,rightfromthestart.Hewas
alwayssoattentive,so,well,perfect.Andhehadneverdoneanythinglikeitbeforewhenwewerejust
friendseither.Infact,Ididn’tevenknowuntilViolettoldme.Ididn’tbelieveherbecausetherejust
weren’tanysigns.Itneverevenoccurredtome.Ilaughedatherwhenshementionedit.Ithoughtshewas
jealous.”

Ifeelcompletelyrawandopen,afeelingIhaven’tfeltwithanyoneinaverylongtime.Iglanceupto

Logan’sface,tryingtodecipherhisexpression.

“DoyouthinkIshouldhaveknowntoo?”
“No,”hesaysautomatically.Pauses.“Ijustwouldn’thaveimaginedthatitwouldhavehappenedto

you.”

“Whatdoyoumean?YouthinkthatIwouldhaverealizedthatsomethinglikethathadhappenedand

donesomethingaboutit?”

“Idon’tthinkthat.Itwasyourfirstrelationshipafterall.Allthecluespointingtowardhisbehavior-”
“Clues?YouthinkthatIburiedmyheadinthesandlikeyourfatherdid?Thatmaybeitwasmyfaultit

hadhappenedandhecheated?”Icouldfeelmyvoicerising,andIcouldn’tstopit.Ipullmyhandbackto
myself,closingmyselfoff.Protectingmyself.“Thiswasamistake.IthinkIshouldgo.”

IstandupasfastasIcan,almostknockingintothewaitressbringingoverourhotfood.Loganasksme

towait,butIcan’t.Mythroatfeelslikeit’sclosingup,andallIwantisairatthismoment.Jakeand
Loganweresosimilar-theyweresmart,powerful,usedtogettingthingstheirway.Itwasallblackand
whitetothem.

IhavenoideawhereIamreallyonceIgetoutside,butIdon’tcare.Iturnrightandwalkalongthe

busyroad.It’sabeautiful,sunnyday,butInoticenoneofit.

**********

“Whereareyourightnow?”Violetasks,hervoicecracklingwithconcernonthephone.Itrynottocall
herduringworkhoursbecauseherbossisanightmare,butIdon’tknowwhoelsetotalktorightnow.

“AStarbucks.Ineededawhitechocolatemochastatafterthatlunch,”Isay.
PartofmeknowsthatIshouldbebackatworkrightnow,butIhavezerodesiretofigureouthowto

getbackonmyown.Ispottedthecoffeeshopandranin.Ineededsomethingtosoothemyrawnerves,
andthiswasasclosetochocolateasIwasgoingtoget.Plusit’dletmelickmywoundsinpeacefora
fewminutesatleast.Theplaceiscrowdedandnoisy,somyconversationwon’tbeoverheardatleast.

“Sohowbadisit?”
ItellVioletwhathadhappened,tryingtogothroughitallmyself.IknowIshouldn’thavegottenmad

atLogan,buttheangerjustcamesofast.

“Ijustfeltso...stupidyouknow?Thethingshewassayingweren’treallyaboutme,butIcouldn’t

helpbuttakeitthatway.Ijustreactedbyblaminghim.HeprobablythinksI’mcrazynow.”

ThebaristacallsmynameandIpickupmycupandbringitcarefullytoanemptytable.
“Well,youare,”Violetsays.
“Hey!Whathappenedtobeingonmyside?”Itakeasipofcoffee,feelingthewarmthspreadthough

mybody.Nice,butnotasniceaswhatLogancoulddo.Ifeelapangofremorse.

“Iamonyourside.That’swhyIcallyououtonthingswhenyouneedit.Didyoutrytoexplainallthis

toLogan?Aboutwhathappenedandhowyoufeelandeverything?”

“...No,”Isayatlast.
“Maybeyoushould.Listen,Iknowhowyoufeel.Youhatethatyoudidn’tseehowbiganassholeJake

was.Youhatethatyoudidn’tbelieveme.AndIknowyouhatethatyoustillhaven’tgottenoverit.Butyou
shouldn’tbetalkingtomeaboutallthis.Ialreadyknowandunderstand.”

“IshouldbetalkingtoLogan,”Isayatlast.
“Bingo.Nowfinishyourcoffeeandgetbacktowork.NoteverymanisgoingtobelikeJake.You

shouldgiveLoganachance.Heseemslikeagreatguy.Don’tletthatpassyoubybecauseyou’restill
thinkingaboutyourpast.”

Isighandpushmycoffeeaway.
“Isn’tthereaneasierway?”Iask.
“Thereneveris,”Violetsayswisely.“ButIpromiseyou’llfeelbetteronceyoudo.”

Logan

Istillhavenoideawhathappenedatlunchtime.Theconversationhadsomehowgottenturnedaroundso
fastthatIbarelyhadanytimetoreactbeforeMikaylarushedout.BythetimeIsettlethingswiththe
waitressandheadoutside,she’slonggone.NotthatIwouldknowwhattosaytoherifIhadcaughtup
withher.Irevieweveryminute,andI’mstillbaffledastohowIcouldhavedonethingsdifferent.AllI
canthinkofisthelookofhurtthatflittedacrossMikayla’sfacebeforeshegotupandleft.

SeansayssomethingandInoddistractedly.
“YouhavenoideawhatIjustsaidthere,doyou?”hesays.
“No,”Isay.“Canyoutellmeagain?”
Hesighsandstartsfromthebeginning,buthisvoiceimmediatelygetspushedtothebackofmymind.

HowthehelldoIfixthings?Iwonderforthemillionthtime.Therewasalwaystheoptiontomoveon,to
forgetaboutMikaylaandchalkituptoanearlyend,butforonceI’mnotreadytodothat.Iwantthis
relationshiptoworkbetweenus.Iwantwhatwehave.IwanttofigureouthowtotellMikaylathatI
neverintendedtohurtherandtomakeitrightagain.

“Screwit,”Isay,tossingmypenonthedesk.
Seanlooksup,eyebrowsraised.
“You’regoingtogoafterherthen?”heinquires.
“Howdidyou-?”
“It’sprettydamnobviousthatsomething’sreallybotheringyou.AndnowthatKevin’sbeentakencare

of,IfigureithadtobeMikayla.”

Ilookathimwithshock.
“Doeseveryoneknow?”
“You’vemadeitprettyobviouswithallthoselunches,”Seansayswithagrin.“Buthey,shewas

makingyouhappy.Withallthecrapgoingoninyourlife,Ifigureyoudeservealittlehappiness.That,and
Ibumpedintoheronherwayback.Shelookeddevastated.Iputtwoandtwotogether.”

Iheaveasigh.
“IthinkIputmyfootinmymouth,”Istarttosay.
“Asusual,”Seansays.“Yougoingtogoandbegforforgivenessthen?Causethiscanwaituntil

tomorrow.”

Istandup,grabmyjacketandshrugiton.
“Thanksman,”Isay.“Ioweyouone.”
I’matMikayla’skitcheninnotime.Pushingopenthedoor,I’mrelievedtoseethatthere’snobody

elsearound.Shelooksupandtriestosmile,butitfalters.She’spulledherhairoutofherusualponytail,
anditcascadesaroundhershoulders.ShelookssofeminineandsexythatIwanttojustkissherandtake
offherclothesandskipthetalkingaltogether.ButIhadafeelingthatsexwasnotontheforefrontof
Mikayla’smindrightnow.

“Icametoapologize,”Istartoff.“ThethingsthatIsaidtoyou-itwasuncalledfor.Lookingbackon

theconversation,IcanseehowyouwouldthinkIwasblamingyou-”

“Wait,”shesays,holdingupaslimhand.“Aboutthat.Thethingsyousaidweretrue.Allofit.Ishould

betheoneapologizing.ItookitalloutonyoubecauseIcouldn’tstandtothinkthatyouthoughtworseof

me.Icouldn’tstandtothinkthatbecauseIwasstupid.Ididmissthecluesthatledmetothatsituation.
AndIstillbeatmyselfupforit.I’msorrytoo.”

Ilookintothoseeverchangingcoloredeyesandclosethegapbetweenus.Iwantustofeelconnected

together,physicallyasmuchasweareemotionallyatthismoment.Myarmscircleherwaist,pullingher
againstme.Ikissher,deepandlongandrough.I’mhungryforthetasteofher.Mikaylarespondsso
sweetly,hermouthopening,hertonguereadytoreceivemine.Iamnotgoingtolethergo,notanymore.
Mycocksurgeswithblood,hardeningandpushingagainsthertautstomach.Icanhearhermewsand
gaspsasIpushapartherlegs,drivingmyselfagainsther.Iwanttofuckherbrainsout.Iwanttofeelher
pussyenvelopingmyshaftasItakeherfastandhard.

“Logan,”shebreathes,hervoicefilledwithlonging.It’senoughtosendanotherwaveofluststraight

tomycock.

Myhandsrunalongherbody,unbuttoningherchef’scoatandpushingitoffofher.She’swearingonly

athincottontanktopunderneath,andIcanfeeleveryinchofherbodyasitswellsbeneathmytouch.My
thumbsrubagainstherpertnipples,drawingthemtohardnubs.Herbreastsfitperfectlyintomycupped
hands,andIteasethesensitivefleshforamomentbeforetakingitintomymouth.Isuckhard,elicitinga
longmoanofpleasure.KnowingIcanturnheronsoeasily,soquicklymakesmycockthrob.Iwantto
unzipmypants,butrightnowit’sallaboutMikaylaandmakingherfeelgood.Ipushherbreastsupover
thetanktop,drawingone,thentheothernippleintomymouth,alternatingbetweenlicksandnibblesthat
sendsherarchingherbacktowardsme.

Icanfeelherfingersdanceacrossmyskin,drivingmecrazywiththeirfeatherlighttouchasshe

removesmeofmyclothestoo.Mycocknestlesrightupagainstherleggings,andwetheatradiatesfrom
herpussy.EventhoughIcouldplaywithherbreastsforever,Mikaylaremindsmethere’smoretodowith
agentlegrindingofherhipsandIamhappytooblige.Ipullherleggingsdown,myfingersrunningupher
slickfolds.Achinglywetandready-exactlyhowIwanthertobe.Thefabricofherpantiesissoaked,and
Ipushitasideandplungetwofingersintohertightdepths.Icanfeelherfingernailsdigintomybackin
surprise,andthenagaspasIdragthepadsofmyfingersagainstherg-spot.

“YoulookabsolutelybeautifulMikayla,”Imurmur.“Icouldwatchyoulikethisforever.”
“Please,”shebegs.
Iknowexactlywhatshe’saskingfor,butIwon’tgiveit,notyet.I’mgoingtomakethislast,drawit

outsothattheonlythingshecansayismynameasshepeakstopleasure.Iliftherup,depositingheronto
thecounter,exposedandbeautiful.Partinghermouth,Idropdown,andputmymouthrightupagainsther
pussy.ItsmellsearthyandsexyanddistinctivelyMikayla,andIdelvedeepintoherfolds,exploring
everylastinchofher.Iusemyfingerstopartherlips,drawingoutthesweetliquidbetweenherlegs
beforecirclingandlickingherclit.Icanfeelherlegsquiveringwithpleasure,herfingersrakingmyhair
asshesighsandmoanswithdelight.Iworkfaster,myfingersslidinginandoutofherpussy,tryingto
keepupasherbodystrainsandtensesandcoils,untilfinallyshecomes,herpussymusclescontracting
againstme,herbreathcominginquickshortgaspsasherorgasmexplodesfromdeepinsideofher.

Itpoursoutofher,andIlapitallup,butIcan’tholdoutanylonger.Istand,andwithoneswiftthrust,

Isinkmyselfintoherdepths.HerbodycontractsagainstmycockandIgroanwithpleasure.EverythingI
feelisconcentratedintomycockasIthrustintoher,herbodystiffeningandcontractingasmycock
detonatesanotherorgasminsideofher.Imoveinandoutofherroughandfast,grippingtightlyontoher
hipsasshelosesherselfintheonslaughtofbliss.Everycellinmybodyscreamsforrelease,butIkeep
going,gruntingasIbottomoutinsideMikayla’stightpussyoverandover.

Myfaceisburiedagainstherneck,andIfeelcompletelysurroundedbyMikayla.Herlegswrap

aroundme,pullingmeintoheronelasttime,andIcome,lostinsideofher.OureyeslocktogetherasI
sprayjetsofhotseedintoher,butIdon’tevencare.Finallywestopmoving,andIrestinsideofher
warmth.ThisiswhatI’vebeenmissingmywholelife.

“Iloveyou,”Iwhisperhoarsely.
Thewordssurpriseherasmuchastheysurpriseme,butit’strue.Onceit’soutthere,there’sno

denyingitanyfurther,andI’mnotsurewhyIhavethiswholetime.

“IloveyoutooLogan,”shewhispersback.

Epilogue

Mikayla

Onemonthlater...

“Sothisisit,”IsaytoLogan.“Youready?”

“Iam,”hesays.“Let’sdothis.”
“Youthinkthisisgoingtowork?”Iask,takingaholdofhishand.
Hesqueezesitandlooksatmewithasmile.
“Ofcourse.There’snowayitwon’tsucceed.YouareamazingMikayla,andsooneveryoneisgoing

torealizethat.”

Ican’tbelievethatI’mthislucky,tohavesomeonebelieveinmesowholeheartedly.Iknowthatit’s

whatIdeserve,butuntilnowI’venevertrulybelievedit.Havingsomeonewhocaresandprotectslike
thisisamazing.ItmakesmefeellikeIcandoanything.Infact,there’vebeensomanyideasbuzzing
aroundinmyheadthatLoganandIarediscussingpotentiallyopeninganewrestaurant,onewhereI’dbe
theexecutivechefofalocaltastingmenuthatchangeswithwhat’sbroughtintomelocally.

Wegetoutofthecartogetherandheadintothemainrestaurant,theoriginalRedCanyonSteakhouse.

It’sanoldbrickbuildingthat’sstoodthetestoftime.Hopefullythecompanyitselfwilltoo.Tonightisthe
firstnightofmynewmenu,andthereisalotofpress.Logan’scometogivethestaffatalkandsocialize
atthefrontofthehouse,andI’mheretohelpoutinthekitchen.Oneofthesouschefissick,which
workedoutperfectly.Thishasbeensuchanallconsumingprojectthatit’ssortofbecomemybaby,andI
can’tjustsitbackandletitkickoffwithoutme!

LoganopensthedoorformeandIstepthrough.Eventhoughtherewasn’troomforanoverhaul,the

darkstuffydrapesfrommymemoriesisgone,andthere’sanewcoatofpainttoo.Thewaitersand
waitresseswaitingforusaren’tdressedinpenguinsuits,andoveralltheatmospherefeelslighter,fresher.
Iloveit.Thishasalwaysbeenoneofmyveryfavoriterestaurants,andseeingitrevitalizedlikethisis
wonderful.Loganmustfeelthesamewaytoo,becausethespeechhegavetoeveryonewasfilledwith
excitementandhope.AlleyesareonLogan,includingmine.Helookssoconfidentandhandsomeand
sexy,andhe’smine.Ihavetoworkhardtohidemyear-to-eargrin.

“Idon’twanttotakeuptoomuchofyourtime,becauseIknowthatwe’llbeopeningourdoorsinjust

halfanhour,buttonightisaveryimportantnight.It’sthefirstnightofdeparturefromwhatmyfather
envisionedRedCanyonSteakhousetobe.Iknowthatmanyofusarenervousabouttheunknown.There
havenodoubtbeenrumorsandspeculationaboutthestateofthecompanyandwhereweareheaded.I
grewupinthecompanymyself.Ispentmanyafternoonsinthatveryboothdoingmyhomeworkwhilemy
parentsgotreadyfordinnerservice.Iworkedinthekitchenwashingdishestoaffordmyfirstcar.I
helpedmanageoneoftherestaurantsallthroughcollege.ThereisnothingIlovemorethanthiscompany,
andeachandeveryoneofyouheretohelpmakeitasuccess.

ButIamnotmyfather.Idon’tbelieveintheadage‘ifit’snotbroke,don’tfixit’,especiallywhenit

comestofood.Peoplewantcomfort,andtheywantfamiliarity,yes,buttheyalsowantsomethingnew.
Theywantfreshandinnovativeofferings,withthesamedeliciousnessthatthey’vecometoexpectatour
restaurant.AndIreallytrulybelievethatthisissomethingwecanoffertoourcustomers.Tonight,Ihope,
willbeoneofthefirstofmanysuccessfulnightsonceagainatRedCanyonSteakhouse.Iwanttosay

thankyoutoeveryone,whetheryou’vebeenhereforsixmonthsorsixyearsorsixdecades.AndIhope
wehaveagoodnight!”

Theassembledgroupclapsandcheers,andwebreakuptocontinuethepreparationsfortonight.

LogangoesovertheguestswhowillbecomingtonightasIheadtothebackandgetdowntowork.My
stomachisaballofnerves,andIhavetokeepremindingmyselftobreathe.Ifthisfails,it’sallgoingto
comedownonLogan,andIcan’tbearforthattohappen.Luckily,itisn’tlongbeforetherestaurant
officiallyopens,andordersarepouringinjudgingbyhowmanyticketsweget.Theexecutivechef
becomesflusteredatfirst,mostlikelybecauseit’sbeenawhilesincethekitchenisthisbusy,butsoonwe
getintoarhythm.

BeforeIknowit,it’sclosingtime,andwearestillslingingordersoutthedoor.Icanhearthebuzz

comingfromthediningroomasthewaitstaffhurryinandout,whichisahopefulsign.Anoisyroom
meanspeople,andpeoplemeansthatthebuzzthatLoganhasbeenbuildingdidthetrick.EventhoughI
wanttogooutandaskthedinerswhattheythink,it’sfar,fartoobusy.Bythetimethelastdishof
cheesecakeheadsout,I’mbeat.Myfeetache,I’msweaty,andtherearemorethanafewwispsofhair
escapingfrommybun.We’vebeencleaningupduringthelastfifteenminutessoluckilythereisn’tmuch
todo.Butawaitresspopsherheadthroughthedoor.

“Loganwantstosayafewwords,”shecallsout.
Weallfileout,andatoneofthetablesisahugestackofpizzaandplates.
“NowIgenerallydon’tliketoorderout,butIfigurethatourkitchenstaffdeservesabreak,”hesays.

“Ibetyou’reallstarving.”

Rightoncue,someone’sstomachrumbles,andwealllaugh.Platesarepassed,andsoaretheboxesof

pizza.Onceweallsettlebackdownwithfood,Loganclearshisthroat.

“I’mgoingtokeepthisshortandsweet,”hesays.“Ijustwanttosaythanksagaineveryone.You’veall

putin150%today,anditshows.”

Hepullsouthisphone.
“It’sabitearly,butsomeoftheonlinefoodbloggershavealreadyweighedin.”Hepauses,andIhold

mybreath.Thisisit.DoIevenwanttoknowhowitwent?Eventhoughthingsseemedgood,andnothing
wassentback,foodcriticscanbeincrediblyharsh.“It’salongreview,buttheshortversionofitis:
‘decadentanddelicious’...‘Theporterhousesteakisonpointandthelocalproduceonthesideisvibrant
andperfectlycooked.’...’youcanfeelgoodaboutthismenubasedonapolicyoflocal,sustainable
choices’.Andthat’snottheonlyreview,”Loganaddswithasmile.

Ibreatheasighofrelief.Ican’tbelieveit.It’sgoingwell.Itreallyis.Aroundofapplausebreaksout,

butLoganholdsupahand.

“Don’tjustcheerme,”hesays.“Mikaylagetuphere.”
Ilookup,surprised,andeveryoneturnstowardsme.Igivealittlenod,butI’mdefinitelynotgood

withthespotlight.

“Mikaylaistheonewhobelievedinmyvisionandmadeithappen,”Logansays,lookingatmewith

thosewarmblueeyesofhis.“Icouldn’tdoitwithouther.”

Andapartofmeknowshe’stalkingaboutmorethanjusttherestaurant,becauseIcouldn’tdowithout

himeither.Notanymore.

*****

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EnjoythefirstchapterofmybookYesSir...

Icheckmyphone.Nothing.Ofcoursethere’snothing.Iknewshewouldn’ttextme,butIcouldn’tsay
anythingthismorningeitherbecauseallI’dgetbackissnarkasusual.Icanfeelmybloodpressurerising
asIopenupmyphoneanddoublecheck.I’mnotamorningpersonintheslightest,soI’malreadyina
badmood.Mybestfriend,Sidney,sensesmyangerandlaysasoothinghandonmyshoulder.

“Comeon,Willow,”shesays.“Let’sgotoTheJumpingBeanandgetsomecoffee.Ibetthey’lleven

stillhaveafewofthosechocolatecroissantssincewe’reheresoearly.Iknowyoulovethem.”

“Isitreallythatobvious?”Isay,butthethoughtofchocolatedoescheermeup.
“Icanfeeltheheatfromhere,”shesaysasshegetsoutofthecar.“I’msureJordanwilltextyouwhile

we’rethere.”

“Coffeedoessoundgood,”Isaygrudgingly,throwingmypurseovermyshoulderasIgetoutof

Sidney’slittlehatchback.“Thanksforagreeingtowakeupearlyanddrivebytheway.”

SidneyandIcarpooltoworkeveryday.Bysomecrazymiracle,sheandIlandedjobsinthesame

officebuilding,thoughnotinthesamecompany.Iworkinaboutique‘brandingandmarketing’firm,
whileSid’sinaccounting.She’sactuallytheonewhofoundmethejob.Sheoverheardtwoguystalking
aboutanopenpositionandmademeapply.Ihonestlydidn’tthinkI’dgetin.BronsonandBurkeisabig
deal,andthey’verecentlyscoredoneofthemostbrilliantmindsever-DeaconSheffield,thecreatorof
Silksoap’sTrueBeautycampaign,BlueSwan’sviralvodkaads,andcompletelyrevampedandmade
Hatchetbodyspraysomethingeveryguy(notjustjuniorhighboys)wantstosprayon.DoIneedtogoon?
Theguyisamazing.

What’sdefinitelynotsoamazingisthefactthathe’scalledameetingat7:30inthemorningona

Monday.

“Idon’tevenunderstandthepointofthismeeting,”Igrumble,gettingbackintomydarkmoodagainas

Iopenupthecoffeehouse’sdoorsandletSidneythrough.

“Mondaymorningmeetingsaren’tthatstrange.Imean,agoodmanagershouldknowaboutthestatus

oftheirteam’sprojects,”sherepliesaswegettothebackoftheline.

Thewholeplacesmellsglorious,andIstarttosalivate.Ipeektowardsthecounter,andluckilythere’s

stillafewcroissantsintheglasscase.Aslongasthereisn’tsomejerkorderingadozen,I’mgoingtobe
abletohaveone.TheJumpingBeanispackedfullofpeople,allofwhomlookastiredasme.Ipushmy
glassesupmynoseandpeeratthebaristastoseeifSarah’sworking.Shealwaysputsanextrashotinfor
meforfree.NormallyIliketowearcontacts,butJordanusedupallofthesolution,soIhadtothrow
themout.Seriously,teenagegirlscanbesoinconsiderate.

“NoSarah,”IsaymournfullytoSidney.“AndBronsonandBurkeisn’tlikethat.They’resuper

flexiblewiththeirtimetables.Nobodyeverhasatimetheyneedtobein,orout.DeaconSheffieldisjust
beingatotaldicktoasserthispowerorsomething.Imean,I’majunior,juniorassociate.Twojuniors.
There’snowaythatIcantellhimanythinguseful.Ijustdowhat’sputinfrontofme.”

Infact,asidefromthisbeingmydreamjob(notthejuniorjuniorassociatepart,butwhereIgettohelp

designandbrandacompany),theflexibleschedulewaswhyIwantedthissobadly.NotthatJordanneeds
tobelookedafterallthetime,butitdefinitelyhelpsthatwhenanemergencydoesariselikeithasmore
andmorelately.Icanjusttakeoffandmakeupthetimelater.

IcatchSidney’sdoubtfullook.

“Everyoneontheteamthinkssotoo,”Isaydefensively.“Imean,peoplehavebeentalkingabouthim.

He’ssupposedlysuperanal,likeSteveJobs,oneverything.Hastomicromanageallaspectsofthe
campaign,makeseveryonedothingsamilliontimes.He’sgoingtobethebossfromhell.”

“Theguyhasdoneareallygoodjobthough,”shepointsout.“Imean,weren’tyoujustravingabout

howluckyyouaretogettoworkwithsuchageniustwoweeksago?”

“Ye-es,”Isayreluctantly.Iwasonsucharoll...
Theline’smovingquickly,andbeforeIcouldtrytoexplaintoSidneyproperly,it’stimetoputinour

order.ThereareatleasteightpeoplerunningaroundbehindtheJumpingBean’scounterputtingorders
together.Imanagetogetatleasttwocroissantsandawhitechocolatelatte,whileSidneyoptsforthe
spinachquicheandasoylatte.Weheadovertotheothersideofthelongcountertowaitforourdrinks
andfoodtoheatup.I’mbusygrabbinglidsandnapkinswhenIfeelmyfriendgrabmyarm.

“Hey,”Sidneywhispers.“Didyounoticetheguybehindus?”
“No,”Isaycuriously.“ShouldI?”
Shenodsfuriously,soIturnslightlytotheside,pretendingtograbastirstickandglanceover.Wow.

Thatis,thatisonegoodlookingman.Tall,broadshouldered,withpowerfulmusclesunderneaththe
neatlytailoredjacketheiswearing.He’sdefinitelygotagreatbodyunderthoseclothes.Hishairisabit
wild,probablyfromthewindoutside,butmoststartlingofallarehiseyes,apiercingbluethatcouldbe
seenevenfromwhereIam.Hisexpressionradiateswithconfidenceandeasygoingcharisma.Thiswasa
guywho’susedtogettingthingshisway.

Hefinishesuphisorder,andIquicklylookaway.
“Whatdoyouthink?”Sidneyprods,butIshakemyhead.
Noway.Ican’tevenletthethoughtofdatingcreepintomyhead,notnow.NotwithJordantotake

careof.Maybenextyear,whenshe’sofftocollege(ifsheevengetsin)andIcanfinallyrelaxalittle,I
couldconsiderdating.Butrightnow?I’mbusytryingtokeeparoofoverourheads,andasomewhat
healthydinneronthetablethreetimesaweek.Forgetit.Aguylikehimhassomanyotheroptionsthat
he’dneverconsidermewithallofmycurrentbaggage.

Thatdoesn’tmeanIcan’tlookandenjoymyselfforaminute,andIfullydo,sneakingglancesevery

secondIcan.Seriously,whenwasthelasttimeIsawsomeonesoincrediblyhot?Helookslikeheworks
inoneoftheofficesbuildingsaroundus,andIwonderhowImighthavemissedhimintheweekI’ve
beencominghere.ForonceIwishthatTheJumpingBean’sstaffisn’tsoontopofthings.Ourcoffee
orderscome,andwepickthemupandheadbacktotheofficebuilding.Asweheadtowardthedoors,I
hearthebaristacallout“Devon?...CoffeeforDavon?”andquietlyfilethatintothebackofmybrain.
WithDeaconcomingback,Iprobablywillhaveevenlesstimetodoanything,butIcan’thelpit.

Wewalkbrisklybacktoourofficebuilding,mestuffingmymouthwithooeygooeychocolateand

flakycroissant,Sidneyprimlywaitinguntilshegetstoheroffice.We’relikeoilandwater,SidneyandI,
atleastonthesurface.Butwearedefinitelyclose.Idon’tthinkIcouldhavemadeitthroughthisyear
withouther.WhenmyparentsdiedinacarcrashandIsuddenlyhadtobecomeaparenttoJordan,itwas
Sidneythatgotmethroughit.SpeakingofJordan,thatgirlshouldhavetextedmetotellmeshegotonthe
schoolbus.

Ipulloutmyphoneagain.Notextsonthescreen.Damnit,Ithink.That’sthethirdtimethismonth

she’smissedschool.Atthisratethey’regoingtothinkI’manunfitguardianorsomething.Atfirstthe
schoolhadbeensuperaccommodating,butsympathiesdotendtorundryafterayear.Idon’tknowwhat
thehellisgoingonwithhereither.Imean,Iknow,ourparentsaregone.ButJordanusedtobeastraight
Astudent.Shewasinhonorseverything,andwasexpectedtobeclassvaledictorianorschoolpresident
orboth.Nowshe’sthecompleteopposite.IwishIcouldhavedonemoreforher,butatthetimeIwasso
busyworkingandmakingsurethatwecouldstayafloatthatIwasn’tthereforher.Nowitwastoolate.

“Hey,Iknowyou’reworriedaboutJordan,butshe’llbeokay,”Sidneysays,readingmymind,or

moreaccurately,myface.“She’sgottofindherwayonherown.You’realreadydoingyourbest,sostop
beatingyourselfupoverit.”

Iyankopentheheavydoorstothebuildingtoletherinfirst.
“Butwhatifshedoesn’tgraduate?Mom-”Istumbleoverthewordandhavetopausetotakeabreath.

“Momwouldbesodisappointed.”

“Iknow.Butyou’redoingeverythingyoucan.Jordan’soldenoughtoberesponsibleforherself

graduatingyouknow.”

We’reattheelevators,andsomeone’sniceenoughtoholditopensowecouldslidein.Sidneygives

measmile,butwestoptalkingbecausequitefrankly,Ihavenodesiretoairmyfailingsouttoeveryone
withinhearing.Sidneygetsofffirst,givingmeasympatheticsmilebeforeleaving.

BronsonandBurkeisanotherfivefloorsabovehers.Theofficeitselftakesupaboutathirdofone

floor,butthat’sbecausewedoalmosteverythinginhouse.It’saonestopshopforeverythingyouneedto
launch,brand,re-vitalizeyourcompany.Thespaceisincrediblycool,withlotsoftallceilings,modern
art,cozycouchesandgatheringspotsthatencourageoutoftheboxthinkingandcollaboration.I’mvery
luckytobeabletoworkinsuchaplace.IwenttoSidney’sworkonetime,anditwasallboringwhite
wallsandcubicles.It’sclichetosayit,butasanartisticperson,thatkindofatmospherecanreallysuck
medry.

Igothroughthemainspacetowardsthepersonaldeskarea.Asajuniorjuniorassociate,mymaintask

istodoalltheboringstuffnobodyelsewantstodealwith,whichismostlypaperwork.Ihavehada
chancetodosomeworkonthecomputer,butthat’sexecutingsomeoneelse’sbrandingidea.Oneday
though,I’llhavemyowncompaniestoworkwith.MyspacefeaturesbulletinboardwallswhereIpinup
cooldesignsIfindontheweb.Iputdownmycupofcoffee,mypurseandmycoat,andturnonmy
computer.Thereareabunchofemails,andIquicklygothroughthem,justincasetherearesomelast
minutechangestomyprojecttoday.

“How’dyourweekendgo?”Joanasksfromthetablebesideme.
AlthougheveryoneisfreetoworkwitheveryoneelseatBronsonandBurke,I’vebeen‘assigned’to

JoansoIhaveamentortoshowmehowthingsaredone.Iwasabitnervousatfirst,butitturnedouttobe
fornothing.Joanisawesometoworkwith,andI’mdefinitelylearningalotfromher.She’sgotawicked
pairofpurplecat-eyeglassesthatshemanagestopulloffwithflair,andaplumpbodysheshowsoffin
wildlyprintedtopsandshawls.Shetakesthe‘creativetype’toawholenewlevel.

“Long,”Isaytiredly.
“Wellatleastatthisagetheytendtosleepinallweekend,”shesayssympathetically.
Joan’sgottwoteenagersofherownsosheknowsexactlywhatI’mgoingthrough,unlikemostofmy

ownacquaintances.

“Yeah,andstayupallnightpartyingandmakingtheirsisterworrieduntiltheystumblehome.”
Joanstandsupfromherdesk.
“Comeon,”shesays.“Let’sgogetthismeetingoverwithsowecangetourworkdone.”
Inodandclickoffthemonitor,thenfollowherwithmycoffeetooneoftheboardroomsatthefarend

oftheroom.Someone’sbroughtalongaboxofdonuts,andpeoplearehuddledarounditfiguringoutwhat
theywant.I’vealreadyhadwaytoomuchsugar,evenforme,soIshouldskipit,butthenIspyachocolate
sprinkleandnextthingIknow,it’sinmyhands.

“Hieveryone.Let’sbegin.”
ItmustbeDeaconSheffield.EveryonehurriestofindaspotandIsitdownnexttoJoan.She’spicked

upacrullerdonutforherselfandInodapprovingly.Itakeoutanotebook,readytodoodlemyway
throughthispointlessmeeting,lookup,andfreeze.

Isthat...Isthattheguybehindmeatthecoffeeshop?Thecuteone?Noway.Myeyesquicklydrop

downtomynotebook.Thatcouldn’tbeDevon!Butthenagain,whendoesabaristaevercalloutthe
rightname?Mymindpointsout.Isneakanotherglance.Hiseyesarekindofbluer,andthenose-whoam
Ikidding?It’sdefinitelythesameguy.He’stakenoffhisjacket,buteverythingelseisthesame.Andwell,
there’sthecoffeecuphe’sholdinginhishand.TheonefromTheJumpingBean.

Islidedowninmychair,hopingthathedoesn’tseeme,butit’saroundtable.Mymindrunsoverthe

conversationIhadwithSidney.DidIcalltheguybyname?Ididn’t.Atleast,I’mprettysureIdidn’t.
MaybeImentionedDeacon?Iprobablydid.Crap.

“HowwasHawaii,Deacon?”Someguyasksontheothersideofthetable.
“Sunny,”Deaconsaysshortly.“There’salotIwanttogetthroughtodaybeforewefinishthismeeting,

solet’ssavethechitchatforlaterpeople.”

Ifeelaburningsensation,likemaybehe’slookingatme.Isneakaglanceup.Hedefinitelyis.Iduck

myeyesbackdownandpushawaymydonut.Notevenchocolatecouldgetridofthesickfeelinginmy
stomach.

“NowbeforeIgetyoualltobringmeuptospeedontheprojectsyou’vegotgoingon,Ijustwantto

letyouallknow,thatI’vegotanimportantmeetingtodayafterthis,whichiswhyIhadtocallthismeeting
early.TherehavebeensomeprettybigrumorsgoingaroundthatPepsiislookingforanewfirmto
spearheadtheirglobalcampaign.Idon’thavetotellyouhowmuchofacoupthatwouldbeifB&B
landsthis.Iknowyoualldogoodwork,butIneedeveryonetobeatthetopoftheirgame.Ourworkis
goingtobelookedatvery,veryclosely.SoifthatmeansIhavetomicromanageyouallmorethanusual,
ormakeyourepeatyourworkforthemillionthtime,thenthat’showI’mgoingtodoit.Anyquestions?”

TheroomisabuzzwithhisnewsaboutPepsi.Peoplearewhisperingexcitedlytoeachother,talking

aboutjusthowbigtheChristmasbonuswouldbeifwelandaclientofthatmagnitude.Methough?AllI
canthinkaboutishowDeaconSheffieldmostdefinitely,absolutely,positivelyoverheardour
conversation.Talkaboutabadfirstimpressiononyourboss.

GetYesSir

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AboutLilaYounger

LilahasspentherwholelifeinthePNW,whererainydayskeptherinsidewithabook.Aloverofthewrittenword,shecan’tbelievethatit’s

takenherovertwentyyearstogetaroundtowritingabook.She’salwaysbelievedinloveatfirstsightandhappilyeverafters.Whensheisn’t

workingonherstories,Lilalikestobakeandhikeinthemountainsthatmakeupherbackyard.