Page 22 of Man Flu

Chapter Six

Still humping along and it’s not even nine o’clock

I WAITED A GOOD FIVE minutes and played three high-scoring words on Words With Friends with Aunt May while trying to forget about the fact that there’s still no Dickle to play with. I’m sure Logan made his way upstairs by now. I didn’t want to walk in together because the last thing I need is for anyone to speculate and start rumors. It would take very little for some of the lovely gentlemen I work with to come up with a juicy story.

I do my best to keep my head down as I head toward my office, acting like it isn’t the least bit awkward when I walk by Logan’s cube. I try not to look, but he’s staring right at me as if he were waiting for me. Of course, he eases the discomfort by adding in a quick wink as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Is he trying to make me squirm?

I drop down into my office chair, feeling a bit breathless. Either age is catching up with me, or Logan has managed to take my breath away.

Forget about him. It’s distracting. It’s not going to happen. I already have enough to deal with in my life right now. Move forward. Work.

With a long blink, I go through the list of items I need to accomplish today. I need to take complete advantage since I’m getting an extra full day in the office this week. At the least, I can make up for the time I lost yesterday.

“Chickadee,” Brielle sings as she dances into my office. “Look at you with a fancy coffee again? Two days in a row?” She looks surprised because she knows I don’t usually have time to stop for coffee.

“Rick has Cora, so I splurged on my ‘me’ time,” I tell her.

“Totes,” she says with a high-pitched giggle as she plops down in my guest chair. “So, as you know, we have the expo next week, and our promotional materials should be in today, so we’ll need to organize that when it arrives.”

Crap. Why did I think we had another two weeks before the expo? I lose track of time so easily. Maybe I’m losing my mind, which would explain why I couldn’t remember my phone number the other day. “You booked our flights and stuff, right?”

“Of course, like three months ago. However, I didn’t book anything for Logan. Is he joining?”

One minute while I put fantasy together in my head before I give you a decision. All I can envision is a super-hot, thin version of me climbing into bed with Logan. It would be a pretty big letdown if he came because I know that wouldn’t be happening. Plus, if I were to imagine he has a thing for thirty-something-year-old hot messes, it would require grooming that I’ve ignored for almost a year, which is terrible. That’s why I don’t use the bathroom fan when I take a shower. It needs to be all steamy in there before I go near a mirror.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” I tell her. “He just started. I think he should be focused on other projects.”

“I think he should come,” she argues.

“For what reason?” I question, curious to hear what she has to offer this argument.

“He’s hot,” she whispers.

“Okay, Brielle, sweetie, if you want to move up in your career, you’ll need to figure out a way to focus your energy on career aspirations a bit more.”

“So I can fly up the chain like you did so quickly?” she counters.

“Touché.” She has a valid point, but still. “What real reason do you have?”

“He seems to keep saving your ass, so that should be reason enough.”

Logan must have gotten wind of our conversation and has no problem rolling back a few feet in his chair, bringing himself into view. “Did you mention me?”

The look of guilt frames Brielle’s perky face as I stare dumbfounded at Logan. “We were just discussing an expo we have to attend next week.”

“Oh, do you need an extra hand?” Can I just laugh out loud? He’s so innocent the way he asks, and my mind goes to the dirtiest place possible. What the hell is wrong with me?

“You know, a lot of that equipment is heavy, and neither Brett or Alan are coming to this one.”

I lean forward, placing my elbows down on my desk, and rest my chin in my interlaced hands. “Yeah, I suppose it would be good to have an extra hand.” No. No extra hands, Hannah.

“No problem. Where is the event?” he asks.

“It’s in Orlando at The Contemporary,” Brielle says, clapping her hands together.

“The expo is at Disney?”