Smoke & Mirrors by Skye Jordan
31
Isabel
I’ve gotten a lot done in the last two hours. I’ve chopped and diced all the meats and veggies for the day ahead, made half a dozen different sauces, breaded this, whipped that, mixed the other.
I turn a bag of Portobello mushrooms upside down and dump them into the sink under a stream of water, then proceed to take a brush to each before tossing them into a strainer.
I search inside myself, trying to figure out what’s going on in there. I feel relief and loss and fear. So much fear. How will I make money? Where will I live? What does my future look like?
I guess I should have known changing the direction of a career I’ve wanted for over a decade wouldn’t be easy. Nothing about this situation is easy.
“Hey, man, I’m glad you’re here. I slept like shit and—”
The deep voice makes me jump. I turn and face Logan with a hand on my heart. “You scared me.”
He’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved Henley, the soft fabric following the contours of his wide chest and tight abs. I’m not ready to face him. I don’t have what I want to say figured out, but it looks like I’m going to have to ad-lib. Lucky is dragging behind Logan, but comes to me for pats and plops on the floor at my feet.
“What are you doing here?” He glances at his watch, then at me again, his brow furrowed. “Tucker said you had a six o’clock flight. Where is he?”
My stomach flutters over the missed flight, the change in plans, the uncertain future. “I don’t know. I—”
“He left the station right before me. Why are you doing this? What’s going on?”
“Mike called—”
“I know about Mike and Tori. He called Tucker this morning. That’s why I’m here, because Cole is helping Natalie in the bakery this morning and Tucker is supposed to be taking you to the airport.”
I frown. “What time did Mike call Tucker?”
“About five.”
“He called me at four. I told him I’d handle it. I texted Tucker to tell him I wasn’t going to the airport.”
“Then where did he—” I can read the shift on Logan’s face like a headline.
“The flight attendant,” we say at the same time.
“That fucker,” Logan says. “What a shitty thing to do. He should have covered the kitchen so you could get to California.” He rubs his eyes. “Can you call and reschedule? Maybe until later today? I can take you to the airport right now. The flights are about an hour and a half. It’s only six. You still have time—”
I slam the handle on the faucet to shut off the water and face him again. “Can you stop talking over me for a second?”
He pulls keys from his pocket. “Let’s go. Just leave this. I’ll finish it when I get back.”
He turns and walks out the kitchen door, leaving it swinging. Lucky stays put. I stare at the door, my hip against the sink, arms crossed. Five, four, three, two—
The door opens, and he sticks his head into the room. “Come on. Do you want to make those interviews or not?”
“Not.”
He steps into the kitchen. “Did you already reschedule them?”
“No, I canceled them.”
“Canceled? As in you’re not going at all?”
“That’s generally what canceled means.”
He presses a hand to the counter. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve done a lot of thinking since jail.”
His eyes close. “About that—”
“Let me finish,” I say, trying not to sound annoyed, but I’m tired and frustrated and I’ve missed him, even if it’s only been barely a day since we were together.
When he crosses his arms and sets his feet, I know I have the floor.
“When it came down to leaving for the interviews, I looked deeper into the job descriptions. They sound good, but over the last few years, none of my jobs turned out to be as advertised. They get dressed up and put on display, but they’re often just cardboard facades, and the job doesn’t turn out to be even close to what was promised.”
I cross my arms and build up for what has to come next. “I realized last night that if you’re lied to often enough, you start to distrust everything.”
The frustration in his expression dims, and he lowers his gaze to the floor.
“Which made me realize how you must feel about people lying to you. After a lifetime of your mom’s lies, and then Emily’s lies, I could see how what I did made you doubt me.”
He looks up, his expression pained. “I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t realize how badly I’d hoped he’d say that until right this moment. “Me too. For what it’s worth, I was going to come clean about Aiden and the mess of my life in New York after the party, when we were alone. Then he showed up at the bar, and all my plans went to shit.”
Logan nods.
“I’m not leaving.” The words, said aloud, ground me in a way I’ve never felt before. “That’s what I told Tucker, and he evidently took the opportunity to do something so Tucker-like instead of staying at work. I won’t be applying to other jobs out of the area. I won’t be entertaining offers anywhere else. I’m staying. I’m staying and I’m going to show you that you can trust me.”
The tension leaves his body. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling stuck here.”
My smile is instant and big and makes my heart happy. I stroll toward him, slide my hand down his chest, and wrap my arms around him. He returns the gesture, and my fears fade.
“I don’t feel stuck here,” I tell him. “I want to stay. Maya was right about one thing: everything I want is right here. Including you.”
He cups my face with one hand. “I should have trusted you. I know you don’t have one mean bone in your body. You’ve shown that to me over and over. I was blindsided by Aiden, and yeah, jealous. I’ll do better.”
He drops his mouth to mine, and I open to him, craving his taste. When his tongue meets mine, I know we have some catching up to do.
“I have a peace offering,” I tell him, “you know, in case the apology wasn’t enough.”
“I hope that’s you. Naked. In my bed.”
I smile. “That works too.”
I turn, open the fridge, and pull out one of Natalie’s chocolate silk pies.
Logan groans and smiles. “I know exactly what plate I want to eat that from.”
I raise on my toes and kiss him again. “Then let’s go. We can come back and take care of this later.”
He hugs me back, kisses me deep, and finally presses his forehead to mine. “Great minds think alike.”