Logan nodded and stood, lifting the modern-style briefcase that was slightly at odds with his elbow patches. “Understood. If you decide not to bring it up, I won’t mention it again. No hard feelings, all right?”
“Logan?” she asked before he could leave.
He turned back.
“I know you don’t know Josh, not really, but when you spoke to him at brunch, did he seem . . . happy?”
Logan was silent for several moments as he considered. “I wouldn’t say he was unhappy, but no, happy isn’t the word I’d first use to describe Mr. Tanner.”
“What is?”
Logan’s smile was a little sad. “Scared. I’d say Mr. Tanner is terrified of something.”
“But what?” Heather asked.
Logan lifted a shoulder. “I dare say that’s perhaps for you to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
OKAY, WHICH OF THESE do you think Danica would like best?” Heather said, sliding the iPad across the table to Josh before refilling both of their wineglasses.
He pulled the tablet toward him and looked at the screen for a long moment before lifting his head and looking at her. “You are joking right? I’m looking at pink, pink, and pink?”
“No.” She leaned forward and tapped her nail against the swatches. “You’re looking at dusty rose, heaven’s mauve, and winter blush.”
Josh made a gun motion with his hand and held it under his chin. “Can we order dinner yet?”
“After we pick the bridesmaid dress color.”
“That one,” he said, pointing to the screen without glancing.
She tilted her head. “Really? You don’t think that’s a bit dark?”
“Heather. I will kill you.”
“Fine, fine. Winter blush it is.” She pulled the iPad back toward her and switched back to her notebook, where she typed it in.
“Why can’t Danica pick her own ugly bridesmaid dress color? I thought you guys were besties ever since your little powwow?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Heather said, sitting back and picking up her wineglass. “Things are definitely better. But I’m still trying to shield her from some of the more mundane details.”
“Right. By all means, don’t bother the bride, but harass the bride’s ex.”
“I didn’t see you complaining when I brought home the chocolate turtle cake to taste-test.”
Josh stretched his arms over his head, his shirt lifting to reveal a tiny sliver of abs that made her mouth water.
Work first, play later.
“So you’re willing to help with the food portion of the wedding but not the color scheme,” she said.
“Honestly, I don’t know why you sound surprised. How many dudes do you know who want to sit and discuss various shades of pink dresses?”
“Actually, I’m good on the dresses. I do, however, need to figure out whether we want to go with ivory or white candles. The white will better match her dress, the ivory will work better with the pale-pink color scheme I’m putting together. Thoughts?”
“Is there any cake left?”
Heather sighed and turned her iPad off. “Okay. You win. No more wedding talk.”
“You can talk. I’m just fresh out of things to say on the subject,” he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, rubbing his thumb across her wrist.
“Nah, I think I’ve given enough of my week to Danica Robinson.”
“But you’ve made progress, right? Picked the place and all that?”
Heather nodded.
Danica had called her today—called, not texted, shock of all shocks—and said that she’d decided to forgo the Plaza. She’d even agreed to tour Heather’s top-two backups tomorrow, both gorgeous hotels with the same classy elegance of the Plaza, and the not-so-minor perk of being available.
Josh’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, only to silence it and set it on the table.
“You can pick up if you need to.”
He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
Heather fiddled with the corner of her iPad. Most of the time, she was pretty content with whatever it was she and Josh were doing. The sex. The companionship. They hung out most nights, working, eating. Watching a movie.