Lacy swiveled desperately around in her chair, searching for any kind of escape. Why the hell had she agreed to let Quin come along? Sarah would have pulled the fire alarm by now, screamed that she saw a rat and sent the entire restaurant pouring out into the street. Under no circumstances would Lacy be expected to handle this entirely by herself.
On that note, Logan looks about ready to burn this whole place down for real.
“Unstable, huh?” Brad leaned back in his chair, trying to project an air of confidence while Logan stormed towards him looking like the god of thunder himself. “I can see that.”
Lacy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and tried to come up with some sort of plan instead. Posturing aside, did this cheating bastard really think he could hold a candle to Logan Alexander Chase? The two men were from totally different worlds. Olympus and Cleveland.
“Maybe we should just get out of here.” Lacy pushed tentatively to her feet, estimating she only had about five seconds left. “Before he tries to cause a scene—”
“We’re not going anywhere.” Brad jerked her back to the table so abruptly, she let out a quiet gasp. Her eyes flashed up uncertainly, and he was quick to counter with a slimy smile. “I booked this table special just for us. I’m not about to leave on account of your crazy ex.”
It was a good point, but for the first time, it looked as though Brad Harmon might be underestimating things.
“Lacy.” Logan greeted her coolly, but she didn’t think for a second that any of the anger was directed at her. His blue eyes were fixed upon her imprisoned wrist instead—glowing with a kind of quiet rage that sent little chills up and down her spine. “Is everything alright?”
Soft as it was, his voice seemed to ring out in the restaurant. It echoed off the four walls, and bounced back in terrifying little waves upon the table—getting scarier every time.
“Uh...yeah.” Lacy’s eyes darted around the room, praying for a meteor to smash through the ceiling and end this painful encounter before it could begin. “I’m fine.”
Logan took a step closer. She could see a muscle twitching in the back of his jaw.
“Are you sure?”
The question might have been directed to her, but it was clear that he was talking to someone else. Sure enough, a tremor shot through Brad’s hand and he suppressed a visible gulp. Up close, Logan looked even more intimidating than when he was storming into the restaurant. It was a retreat if ever he saw one. Then again, Lacy was wearing that red dress...
“She said that she’s fine,” he snapped, rubbing his thumb possessively over Lacy’s knuckles as she did her best not to gag. “And not to be rude, but you’re interrupting...”
Logan’s eyes danced as his competition foolishly rose to the challenge. For a minute, it was very easy to see the champion of industry who had singlehandedly brought the city of Miami to its knees. But just a second later, that devilish fire melted into a charming smile.
“I can see that,” he replied cheerfully, flashing those pearly whites at both Brad and Lacy in turn. “I can see that you’re on a date.”
He stressed the word date in a way that made Lacy blush as red as her dress, but before either she or Brad could think of a thing to say, he reached behind him and pulled up a chair.
“It almost made me think twice about coming inside.”
Brad blinked. Logan smiled. Lacy prayed again for the meteor, glancing tentatively at the ceiling, like at any moment, it might come smashing through.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” With a confidence usually reserved for rock stars and royalty, Logan reached across the table and extended his hand. “My name is Logan Chase. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
Lacy raised her eyebrows slowly. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? Really? But much to her extreme dismay, not only did Brad accept his hand, but he actually did know who Logan was.
“Of course,” he mumbled, shaking in spite of himself, “some kind of billionaire from out in Florida, right? I think I saw you last year in Forbes.”
Seriously?! Am I the only person in the world who doesn’t read real estate weekly?!
Logan ignored her clear discomfort and kept that winning smile plastered stubbornly on his perfect face. For a second, it looked like the two men were trying to discreetly break each other’s fingers, but a moment later, Brad pulled back with a slight wince.
“So—what are we drinking?” Logan snapped his fingers high above his head. A second later, a waiter appeared with another place setting, along with an empty glass for wine. “I would highly recommend the Rothschild Bordeaux, but if you’ve already opened a bottle—”
“Logan.” Lacy said the name as an accusation, pleased when those high cheekbones colored with the slightest hint of a blush. “What are you doing here?”
He turned to her with a look of supreme innocence, raising his glass automatically as the waiter leaned down to pour. “Well, that’s funny, Lacy. I could ask you the same question.”
Her heart skipped a beat, as Brad’s head snapped up in confusion.
“La
cy? What are you talking about? Who’s Lacy?”