Chapter 33: Chapter Thirty-Three

LOGAN

Ellen is a great assistant. She’s never once double-booked me or forgotten a reminder about an important meeting.

She’s been working at Quincy longer than I have, but I’m starting to think I might need to find a replacement, someone with more muscle mass who can keep Michael from barging into my office on a daily basis.

“I tried to keep him out,” she grumbles as I pass her desk.

If I can’t hire a bouncer, I’m going to start setting booby-traps.

Michael’s leaning against my desk like he owns the place. A picture of Courtney, Brady, and me, which was sitting neatly on the desk corner last night, is face-down on the floor.

“Can you pick that up?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Take it easy, man.” Michael rolls his eyes and sets the photo in the middle of my desk. Not the right spot, and I’m certain he knows it. Everything is a powerplay with this asshole. “I’m here with good news.”

Good news for Michael is very unlikely to be good news for me; I guarantee you that. “What is it?”

“The investments went through. You know the ones. Celebratory beers on me tonight. We can drink to health and hookups. It’s ladies’ night at Barney’s.”

Barney’s is the shittiest bar in SLC. Its floors are perpetually damp, its glasses are dirty, and its drinks are either watered down or so strong they might as well be spiked.

Whenever Court goes, she imitates Forrest Gump and says she never knows what she’s going to get.

“I have plans,” I lie.

“Plans with who?”

“Courtney.”

“Courtney’s going to Barney’s. Don’t lie to me.” He shakes his finger like I’m a misbehaving child.

I glare at him. I fucking hate this guy. “She must have forgotten.”

“Well, I know you don’t have plans with Rae.”

“I’m not seeing Rae,” I snap. He’s unbelievable.

A nasty smile spreads across his face. “I know. She cries every day after work. I can hear it through her apartment door, but don’t worry. She’ll get over it. I’ll be your wingman tonight.”

The image of Michael lurking outside Rae’s apartment, listening to her sob over me, flashes through my head. I’m a minute away from punching him. Maybe less. “What’s wrong with you?

You know we’re not seeing each other. Why the fuck are you trying to keep tabs on me tonight?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You’re going to show up at her window with a boombox or some shit. I’m helping you get over her. Get into someone else.”

He laughs at his disgusting joke and weird romantic comedy reference, slapping his knee and shaking his head at his cleverness.

“I’m not going to Barney’s, Michael.”

“You are, though, because your dad’s going to Beijing to take part in that study ~I~ connected him to. I can put a stop to it any second.”

“You’re playing with my dad’s life over a woman who can’t stand you,” I growl.

“She’ll come around. Don’t worry.”

I swear to God, I’m five seconds away from knocking him out. “Get the fuck out of my office.”

“Sure thing, boss. We’re going straight from the office. I’ll get you at five.”

***

Ladies’ night at Barney’s is a shitshow. They’re pretty much giving these pink vodka cocktails away for free. One of the bartenders actually ~is~ giving them away for free.

All he’s asking for is tips, and by tips, he means tits. As in, if a woman flashes him, he’ll hand her a streaky glass with bottom-shelf liquor and pink lemonade on the house.

Michael loves this place. I hate it.

Courtney, Layla, and Layla’s new boyfriend Jack are already here when we arrive. Layla and Jack pause making out just long enough to say hello. “Thank ~God~,” Court grumbles. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“I know a way you can take care of that for free,” Michael says with a wink.

Courtney grimaces. “Fuck off, Mikey. Let’s purchase drinks like classy adults, Logan.”

I suck down my Jack and Coke before we get back to our seats, so I turn around and order two more. Those disappear quickly too. So do the next three.

“Next one’s on me,” Michael announces to our table, which now includes a woman on either side of Michael, Jack’s friend, and Courtney’s friend from work, who’s plastered.

Beth, I think her name is. Doesn’t matter. I’m not here to make new friends.

Because Michael’s paying, I order two more Jack and Cokes. “Damn, you’re a fast drinker,” one of the women beside Michael—I guess she’s sitting next to me too—murmurs into my ear. “Someone’s thirsty.”

“Long week,” I mutter.

She pouts. “I’m Mel. Logan, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, Logan, are you just going to sit there and sulk?”

I’m too drunk to play nice. “It’s nothing personal. I’m not really interested in being here tonight, but I promised a friend.” Calling Michael a friend twists my stomach, but I’m not going to give Mel the full story.

Mel raises the pink shit she’s drinking. “Callie dragged me out. I just got dumped last week, and she had the genius idea to bring me to ladies’ night to find a rebound.

“Cheers to being miserable, am I right?”

We clink our glasses, and I toss back the rest of my drink. My buzz is strong as fuck now. “I just ended things with someone too. Shit sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it really does. I’m getting something with tequila. Want anything?”

I hand her a ten. “Jack and Coke?”

“Coming right up.”

Mel returns, balancing three drinks against her chest. She slides one to me and with a wry smile, sticks two straws, one from each of her glasses, into her mouth. “I’m trying your method.”

She sucks down as much as she can before spluttering all over the table.

Mel’s funny as fuck, and she’s actually pretty hot, but I can’t think of anyone but Rae. Four more days until Dad leaves. Five until I call her and we figure out how to be together.

“Logan! Logan!” Courtney interrupts our laughing fit. “Beth and I are heading out. Text me later.” She gives me a quick squeeze before escorting her hammered friend out of the bar.

“Is that her?” Mel asks quietly.

“Her?”

“The one who broke your heart?”

I snort. “No, no way. She’s like a sister to me.”

“Yikes, sorry,” Mel giggles. “Wasn’t trying to advocate incest.”

Mel and I are scheming a plan for me to wingman her when I see them. Rae and her psycho roommate who yelled at us for making out in their apartment hallway, laughing as the bouncer scans their IDs.

“Fuck,” I mumble.

“What?” Mel whips her head around. She stops when she meets Rae’s watering eyes. “Shit, is that her?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. She’s beautiful. Damn. Our lives suck.”

“They really do,” I agree. “I should leave.”

Mel groans. She says something, but I don’t hear a word. I’m watching Rae embrace some hipster-looking douche in glasses and a flannel.

She smiles brightly and gestures to Zoe like she’s introducing them.

No fucking chance. She couldn’t have moved on already. What did she say Monday? ~Next week isn’t long~. That was four days ago. Next week is four days from now. We’re halfway fucking there.

Mel’s voice, now slurred, breaks my daze. “You should tell her how you feel. She keeps looking at you.”

I shake my head. “I’m the one who ended it,” I tell her.

Mel’s mouth pops open.

“It was…” I trail off, running my hands through my hair. “Reasons beyond my—”

“You fucking asshole.” Rae’s roommate appears beside me, hands on her hips.

I’m too drunk and far too tired for this shit. “Fuck off, Zoe,” I grumble.

Her eyes bulge. “Did you know he broke my best friend’s heart a week ago?” she snarls at Mel. “He’s a fucking asshole. I don’t know you, but I know you can do better than him.”

“Excuse me?” Mel returns Zoe’s glare.

Zoe doesn’t respond to Mel. Her scary eyes are on me now. “Leave. Take her with you and leave.”

“We’re not together,” Mel snaps.

“Good.” Zoe crosses her arms. “Leave, Logan. I fucking mean it. Don’t ruin this for Rae.”

I take the bait. “Ruin what?”

“Her date, moron.”

~Her date~? I stare at them. They’re laughing at something Rae’s showing him on her phone.

“Leave,” Zoe repeats. She spins on her heel and storms over to the bar.

Rae doesn’t even look up.

I turn to Mel. “You want to come over to my place?”