Read Online Caught Up in the Touch by Laura Trentham - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Trentham
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Jessica?”
The temptation of a sleek, sexy Porsche might sway Logan. His decades-old truck sounded like it was dying a slow death. Indecision nipped at her confidence, devouring chunks. “I’m going to see him again today. I’ll call you later on the B&B’s phone. I don’t have service.”
Eric piped up. “Go buy one of those prepaid jobs. Surely, they have stores out there in the sticks. Dang, Jessica, put that Wharton degree to use.”
More male laughter. Instead of ballet, Jessica wished she’d taken karate. She imagined driving her foot into balding Eric’s paunch like Bruce Lee.
“If all else fails you can screw him.” Eric’s voice held the bravado of a pledging frat boy looking to impress.
“Go screw yourself, Eric,” she said through clenched teeth.
“That’s enough! Eric, grab my putter, and I’ll meet you on the green.” Her father’s voice held the bite of a disciplining parent.
I’m your child, not him, she wanted to scream, yet she held her tongue.
Her father clicked the speakerphone off. “Get the contract signed. Make it happen, and we’ll talk about CFO. Otherwise…” The phone beeped, signaling the disconnect.
Jessica tapped the phone against her forehead, her chest and throat tight, making it difficult to get enough oxygen and forcing her heart to pump faster.
Lilliana stood at Jessica’s left shoulder, close enough that she should have sensed her, but hadn’t. She slipped the phone out of Jessica’s hands and replaced it with a fresh, steaming cup of coffee. “Black, right?”
Jessica nodded and followed Lilliana to the couch. “Thanks.”
“I take it that didn’t go well.”
“Nope.” Jessica leaned back against the thin cushion. She curled her shoulders inward and pressed a hand against her stomach. Between the hangover and the phone call, she felt like puking.
“What are you going to do?”
“Go to Adaline’s again tonight. Convince Logan that running the Montgomery Industries test kitchens is his dream job.”
Lilliana grimaced and shook her head. “It’s Sunday. Adaline’s closes after lunch until Wednesday, and if I know Logan Wilde, he’ll disappear into the woods as soon as possible.”
“Shoot.” Jessica put her coffee on the side table, ran to the foyer, and stood like a deer in headlights. She couldn’t barrel into a restaurant with bedhead and in her silk robe and reeking of alcohol. Yet, time and opportunity slipped through her fingers.
She took the stairs two and at a time and got into the shower before the water had the chance to fully heat. She pulled on a business-style gray skirt and blue silk blouse. She slapped on the minimum amount of makeup and hit her hair with a five-minute blast from the dryer. No longer pin straight, her natural wave encroached. She pulled at her bangs and cursed the disheveled mess.
No time to waste with the flatiron. She grabbed her purse and bolted down the stairs, slipping on her black heels.
“Wish me luck,” she said over her shoulder.
“You’ll need more than luck. I’ll be here praying for a miracle.” Lilliana smiled a fake good-girl smile and waved pageant-style from the front porch.
All the way to Adaline’s, she rehearsed the new offer, trying to work a convincing tone into her voice, even though the thought of demoting Roger didn’t sit well. The parking lot was packed. Men in suits and women in sundresses clumped around the entrance. Children weaved through their legs, playing tag. She slipped into the restaurant. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust. All the tables appeared full, but she didn’t spot Logan.
A high-school-age girl greeted her with a smile and an armful of menus. “Table for one?”
“I need to see Mr. Wilde. Is he in the back?”
The girl’s sunny smile fell. “I’m afraid he’s already left for the day, ma’am. Can I take a message?”
“No. It’s an emergency. Family related. I need to see him immediately. Could you tell me where he lives?” Not
The temptation of a sleek, sexy Porsche might sway Logan. His decades-old truck sounded like it was dying a slow death. Indecision nipped at her confidence, devouring chunks. “I’m going to see him again today. I’ll call you later on the B&B’s phone. I don’t have service.”
Eric piped up. “Go buy one of those prepaid jobs. Surely, they have stores out there in the sticks. Dang, Jessica, put that Wharton degree to use.”
More male laughter. Instead of ballet, Jessica wished she’d taken karate. She imagined driving her foot into balding Eric’s paunch like Bruce Lee.
“If all else fails you can screw him.” Eric’s voice held the bravado of a pledging frat boy looking to impress.
“Go screw yourself, Eric,” she said through clenched teeth.
“That’s enough! Eric, grab my putter, and I’ll meet you on the green.” Her father’s voice held the bite of a disciplining parent.
I’m your child, not him, she wanted to scream, yet she held her tongue.
Her father clicked the speakerphone off. “Get the contract signed. Make it happen, and we’ll talk about CFO. Otherwise…” The phone beeped, signaling the disconnect.
Jessica tapped the phone against her forehead, her chest and throat tight, making it difficult to get enough oxygen and forcing her heart to pump faster.
Lilliana stood at Jessica’s left shoulder, close enough that she should have sensed her, but hadn’t. She slipped the phone out of Jessica’s hands and replaced it with a fresh, steaming cup of coffee. “Black, right?”
Jessica nodded and followed Lilliana to the couch. “Thanks.”
“I take it that didn’t go well.”
“Nope.” Jessica leaned back against the thin cushion. She curled her shoulders inward and pressed a hand against her stomach. Between the hangover and the phone call, she felt like puking.
“What are you going to do?”
“Go to Adaline’s again tonight. Convince Logan that running the Montgomery Industries test kitchens is his dream job.”
Lilliana grimaced and shook her head. “It’s Sunday. Adaline’s closes after lunch until Wednesday, and if I know Logan Wilde, he’ll disappear into the woods as soon as possible.”
“Shoot.” Jessica put her coffee on the side table, ran to the foyer, and stood like a deer in headlights. She couldn’t barrel into a restaurant with bedhead and in her silk robe and reeking of alcohol. Yet, time and opportunity slipped through her fingers.
She took the stairs two and at a time and got into the shower before the water had the chance to fully heat. She pulled on a business-style gray skirt and blue silk blouse. She slapped on the minimum amount of makeup and hit her hair with a five-minute blast from the dryer. No longer pin straight, her natural wave encroached. She pulled at her bangs and cursed the disheveled mess.
No time to waste with the flatiron. She grabbed her purse and bolted down the stairs, slipping on her black heels.
“Wish me luck,” she said over her shoulder.
“You’ll need more than luck. I’ll be here praying for a miracle.” Lilliana smiled a fake good-girl smile and waved pageant-style from the front porch.
All the way to Adaline’s, she rehearsed the new offer, trying to work a convincing tone into her voice, even though the thought of demoting Roger didn’t sit well. The parking lot was packed. Men in suits and women in sundresses clumped around the entrance. Children weaved through their legs, playing tag. She slipped into the restaurant. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust. All the tables appeared full, but she didn’t spot Logan.
A high-school-age girl greeted her with a smile and an armful of menus. “Table for one?”
“I need to see Mr. Wilde. Is he in the back?”
The girl’s sunny smile fell. “I’m afraid he’s already left for the day, ma’am. Can I take a message?”
“No. It’s an emergency. Family related. I need to see him immediately. Could you tell me where he lives?” Not
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