Page 39 of The What If Guy (The Guys Who Got Away 3)
“What I’m saying,” Teagan continues, “is simply this—don’t assume everyone is an Evan.”
But it’s safer to assume that, I want to say.
Only, it doesn’t matter what’s safer with Logan, because we can’t be a thing. I look at the time on my phone. “I should go meet with him.”
She squeezes my arm. “You look like a boss. That’s all I meant by the lady-boss comment. You give off serious lady-boss vibes.”
I hum approvingly then wiggle my hips. “That’s what I like to hear. See you in the editorial meeting in thirty minutes?”
She gives me a thumbs-up. “See you then. I have to go gather the latest social media insights for that. And in the meantime, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That doesn’t limit me much, does it?” I toss back with a wink.
“Exactly.” She follows me out of the women’s room, heading back to her office.
I turn the other way, smoothing a hand down my red dress, then rapping on Logan’s door. It’s open, and he calls me in.
16
Bryn
I steel myself for the impact of his handsome face.
His square jaw, his soulful eyes, his full lips. He’s standing by the window, the phone cradled to his ear.
His hair is a delicious mess, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up at the cuffs, revealing his ropy forearms and the hint of ink on them. The whole combo makes him a candidate for an arm candy photo of the week.
He holds up a finger, letting me know he’s almost done with his call. “Sure, sweetie. We can definitely get you a hula hoop. Yes, it sounds like a lot of fun. We can go tonight.” He takes a beat. “All right, Daddy loves you. See you in a couple of hours.”
My stomach flips. Forget celebrity arms. I’m melting over the way he talks to his daughter.
He sets the phone on his desk and shoots me a smile.
“Was that Amelia?”
“Nah, that was my dental hygienist.”
I laugh. “Glad to hear you’re on good terms with her.”
“Good relations for teeth are so important.”
“And you have lovely teeth,” I say.
“You have a great smile.” He flashes a grin my way, one of the quadruple-take variety. It sends sparks down the center of my body and makes a pulse beat between my legs.
Must. Be. Professional.
He gestures to the couch, and I sit. He takes a seat at the other end and slides into business mode. “Tell me more about this partnership with Joy Delivered and what you envision.”
I startle, a touch surprised by the direction he’s taking this meeting. “Oh. I thought you’d just want me to debrief you on the pitch, and hand it over.”
He shakes his head. “I debriefed myself and read the emails you sent. I want to know how you see it. What you think can come from the pair-up.” He leans back against the cushions, waiting for me to share my opinion.
This is a surprise, but a welcome one. When Hadley was here, she handled the higher-level partnerships, and she didn’t ask for my input. Input I was dying to give.
I square my shoulders and dive into all the reasons why I think a deal with Joy Delivered is a good idea.
He tosses questions at me, and we brainstorm the best terms for each party. Finally, he nods thoughtfully and raises a finger. “Idea, Bryn. Why don’t you come with me? I’m hoping to set the meeting up for the week after next. We can both go see Casey and all put our heads together.”
I try to rein in a massive grin, but inside I’m squealing with happiness. “I’m out of town, meeting with some content partners early that week, but I’d love to after Wednesday.”
“Great. I’ll set it up.” He lowers his voice and glances around furtively, like he has a secret. “Thanks for the tips earlier today. Check this out.”
He grabs his phone, shows me the link for the cat photo contest, and then tells me he entered it. He crosses his fingers. “Amelia will lose her mind if Queen LT wins. I know it’s a long shot, but I figured I’d try.”
I rub my palms together, delighted. “Look at you! You’ve gone from not knowing this was a thing to participating in the thing. I’m impressed.”
He shrugs, as if it’s all in a day’s work. “Like I said, I can be trained.”
“I’ll be rooting for your pretty pet. By the way, did I hear Amelia is keen on hula hooping?”
“Evidently, it’s her new passion. They did it in PE today. She loved it and wants to get one. My sister runs a fitness center, so I figured I’d see if she wants to go hula-hoop shopping with us tonight.”
“How fun. My friend Amy teaches a hula-hooping class at a local gym.”
“A class?” He blinks. “A hula-hooping class?”
“I’m blowing your mind today, it seems. From cat photo contests to hula-hooping classes. Yes, both are things. And hula class is a blast. Amy is an editor at Bailey & Brooks,” I say, naming the publishing house. “I work with her on some content partnerships with her romance novels, and I go to her class twice a week. It’s great exercise.”
