An Heir For Her Enemy (Bossy Bachelors #3)

2. Logan

CHAPTER 2

LOGAN

“ A nd after all that, it was still the best golf game I’ve played in my life!”

Logan laughed along with the rest of the group, though he knew his reaction was a little delayed. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t been paying very close attention to the golf story. Golf, like buying houses in the Hamptons and staffing yachts, was one of the hobbies of the affluent that Logan just wasn’t interested in.

Logan was relatively new to the world of the wealthy. He’d started investing early, as a teenager, and had managed to grow his portfolio extensively over the last few years. Unlike most of the people in this room, he hadn’t come from family money, but had built everything he had himself through hard work, little sleep, and dedication.

Perhaps that was why he struggled to be a part of the world of the wealthy. Although he now had a portfolio in the high hundreds of millions, he couldn’t seem to break into the social side of affluence. That was why he’d decided to collect art — he’d heard it was a way into the wealthy sphere. Being part of the world of the wealthy was important if he was to gain new investors, which Logan would need if he ever wanted to break the one-billion mark.

Yet so far, his art collection had been more or less a bust. He’d collected a few pieces on the advice of an art consultant, but he hadn’t seen any positive effects. Apparently, without a “crowning jewel” or particularly unusual piece, his collection wouldn’t be taken seriously in the upper echelons of society.

The only real success in his art-collection enterprise so far had been Delaney. Logan had little time for romance — all his free time was dedicated to building his company. It had been nice to flirt with Delaney, though. She was like a breath of fresh air in a room that had become stifling with old money and societal pressure.

Logan would have liked to talk to her a little longer, but she seemed to be busy with her client now. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her and the client circle the room, stopping in front of several paintings for long moments. She wore a flattering off-white dress that showed off her feminine curves. Her blond hair fell in curls around her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at the pieces — though not so much when she spoke to Carmen.

“…right into a sand trap,” one of the men said, to universal commiserating sighs. Logan refocused his attention on the conversation. He wasn’t going to achieve the standing he needed by staring after an art consultant all night, no matter how beautiful or interesting she was.

For the next hour or so, Logan talked to other high-net-worth individuals who were interested in art. Yet as he spoke about painters and golf games and the stock market, his eyes drifted back to Delaney frequently. Towards the end of the evening, her client said her goodbyes and left. Delaney watched her go, then took a small cake from a passing tray and started towards the door.

This was Logan’s shot.

“Excuse me, please.” He extricated himself from the group he’d been talking to and hurried after Delaney. He caught her just as she was collecting a light jacket and purse from the coat check.

“Oh, Logan.” She looked surprised, but pleased, to see him again.

“Hey. I saw that you’re leaving. So soon?”

“Yes.” Delaney gave a little shrug. “My client called it a night, and there’s only so much more talk I can handle about which designer brands are the most flattering.”

“Tell me about it. Would you like to get out of here?”

“I already am.” Delaney gestured at her coat and purse. “But if you’re suggesting that I rescue you, too… sure.”

“How gallant of you.” Logan winked. “I’m not used to being rescued.”

“Well, just think of me as your knight in shining armor.” Delaney smiled back, and Logan noticed a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. Her blue eyes danced with the joke.

“I certainly will.” Logan turned to the gentleman manning the coat check. “Could I please have my jacket, as well?”

They stepped out into the cool, early September air. Delaney put on her jacket over her sleeveless dress, while Logan just draped his own coat over his arm. In his suit, he was quite warm.

“Do you know anywhere nice around here?” Delaney asked. It was only around eight o’clock, and Manhattan was as bustling as ever. A group of women in slinky dresses passed, clearly on their way to a club, while another group in suits and ties exited a building across the street, just leaving work.

“Not really,” Logan admitted. He spent most of his time in the office, so he didn’t have much opportunity to scope out local places.

“There’s a nice bar a few blocks in that direction. Carmichael’s, I think?”

“Lead the way.”

They walked down the sidewalk towards the bar. Delaney was surprisingly quick, even in her heels, and Logan enjoyed the fresh air after the stuffiness of the gallery.

“So, how long have you been an art consultant? No offense, but you seem a bit young.”

Delaney laughed. “So do you. I’m twenty-five, and I’ve been doing private art consultations for about three years now. How long have you been running Ordinal?”

“I founded it almost six years ago, when I was nineteen. I’m twenty-five now, same as you.”

There was a flicker of something on Delaney’s beautiful features, but Logan couldn’t quite place the emotion.

“And is that when you moved to New York?”

“More or less. I knew that if I wanted to be a successful investor, I needed to be here. New York is the heart of the financial world — or at least one of them.”

“The art world, too.” Delaney nodded in agreement. “I moved here for college and never left. There’s just something magical about the city, and the art scene can’t be beaten. We’re here.” She gestured to a bar down a small flight of stairs. Logan led the way and held the door for her, at which Delaney smiled in thanks.

Inside, the bar was crowded with people enjoying their Friday night. It seemed to be an even split between groups of friends and people on dates. A popular pop song played over the speakers, though it was barely audible over the chatter.

“This is a little more crowded than I expected,” Delaney said apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it. I see a booth in the corner.” Logan parted the crowd as they crossed the room. The booth was small but empty and clean. Logan slid into one seat and Delaney took a place across from him.

“I’ll go order from the bar,” Logan offered. “What would you like?”

“I’ll just have a beer. And maybe something to eat? The food at the event was good, but tiny.”

“Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Surprise me.”

Logan threaded his way back through the crowd to the bar, where he placed their orders before returning to the table, two beers in hand.

“Here you go. The food is on the way.”

“Thanks.” Delaney smiled and picked at the label of her drink. She seemed ever so slightly shy, which Logan found endearing.

“You were telling me about your job. What exactly do you do?”

“Oh, all kinds of things. I verify if pieces are authentic, offer advice on which pieces will be good investments, and suggest how to compile a good collection. Basically, I help wealthy people invest in art.” Delaney grinned. “It’s not exactly my dream job, but it pays well, and I get to see a lot of art.”

“What is your dream job, then?”

“Oh.” Delaney blushed. “Nothing specific.”

Logan got the feeling that she wasn’t being entirely truthful, but he didn’t push. “Anyway, I’m impressed. Like I told you at the gallery, I’m clueless about art.”

“See, you said that.” Delaney raised her eyebrows at him. “But it isn’t true.”

“Believe me, it is.”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Everyone knows something about art. You might not know who painted it or what the style is. You might not be able to identify the period or talk much about symbolism. But you know how art affects you, how it makes you feel, which is the most important part.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Logan thought back to the pieces he’d seen at the gallery today. None of them had made him feel anything in particular, apart from mildly confused and unsure of which to pick. “How you feel doesn’t have anything to do with how much a painting is worth or where it came from.”

“How much it’s worth isn’t always what matters. Or it shouldn’t be.” Delaney got out her phone and typed something, then turned the screen to Logan. “See this painting?”

Logan took the phone from her, their fingertips brushing, and examined the picture of the painting she’d pulled up. It looked familiar. The painting depicted a man with an extended grayish face, his mouth open in a huge black hole, his hands at his face. There was a swirl of colors behind him.

“Okay…”

“When you look at this painting, what do you feel?”

Logan considered for a long moment, his eyes on the painting. “I feel… overwhelmed. Or, more accurately, I can imagine that this man feels overwhelmed. He’s in a beautiful place, but he’s so busy wrestling his own demons that he can’t see it.”

“See.” Delaney took the phone back from him. She met his eyes with an approving nod. “You do know something about art. How about this one?”

She showed him another picture, of a lake filled with lily pads.

“Okay, clearly this one is calming and peaceful. When I look at it, I feel like I’m looking through a window into a garden from many years ago, a garden that’s been preserved in time.”

Delaney took the phone back again. “Exactly. Everyone knows something about art. Art isn’t just meant for rich people and academics to analyze to death. It’s meant to be enjoyed by real people. It’s created so that people will feel something — and you did.”

“Wow.” Logan was doubly impressed. “I never thought about it like that before.”

“I know.” Delaney grinned and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “A lot of people don’t.”

Just then, their food arrived. Logan had ordered a few things from the menu, more or less at random. He watched Delaney’s eyes widen as the waiter placed jalape?o poppers, nachos, a plate of sliders, French fries, a blooming onion, a side salad, and a chocolate lava cake onto the table.

“I didn’t know what you wanted,” Logan explained, “so I ordered a few things.”

“This will cost a fortune,” Delaney murmured.

“Don’t worry; it’s on me.”

“Oh.” Delaney picked at the label of her beer again, her eyes skating away. “Thank you.”

Logan felt a stab of worry that he’d messed this up. Delaney was clearly uncomfortable at the thought of the food or the cost of it. He’d only wanted to be considerate. Yet Delaney took a breath and grinned, seemingly having moved past whatever had worried her.

“Why the salad?”

“Maybe you wanted something healthy.” Logan shrugged.

“Not so much.” Delaney reached for a jalape?o popper. “Anyway, I’ve talked your ear off about my job. Tell me more about yours.”

“Investing isn’t all that exciting,” Logan said, although it wasn’t true. There was little he loved more than analyzing market trends and making the right call at the right time.

“Tell me about your art collection, then. I go to a lot of these events, but I haven’t seen you around before.”

“You wouldn’t have. To be honest, I’m new to the wealthier circles. It can be… difficult… to break into the world of the wealthy. More difficult than it was to make the money, really. I figured that an art collection would be a good way to gain a little respect. One of my contacts suggested it.”

“I understand that it can be hard to find your place in these circles. I still feel like an outsider, and I’ve been rubbing shoulders with these types for three years now. It’s different for me, though, since I actually am an outsider as an art consultant.”

It was strange to think of Delaney as an outsider. She’d blended into the clientele of the gallery so easily that Logan would have thought she’d been born into money. She’d probably blend in well anywhere, though. She was just one of those kinds of people.

“How did you find your footing? You seem so confident now.”

“Like I told you at the gallery, I focused on enjoying myself and on my own dreams. I’ll never fit in, not really, but I can offer good advice and I can enjoy the hors d’oeuvres.” Delaney winked.

Logan smiled, but he was a little disappointed. It would never work for him to just focus on his own enjoyment and goals. It was too important that he be an accepted member of wealthy society.

“That makes sense.” Logan took a French fry. “What do you do when you aren’t attending art-gallery openings?”

“Mostly, I work.” Delaney smiled a little sheepishly. “I have quite a few clients and they all require a lot of work. Not just going to galleries, but also doing research about the latest trends in art, keeping updated on research into technique and forgeries, searching out new talent — that kind of thing. I plan to work hard now so that I can enjoy my life later.”

Logan found himself nodding along with her. “I’m the same way. I work a lot. I always have. But I like to think the time I put in now will reap rewards in the future. There’s always time for hobbies later.”

Delaney chuckled. “True. You should start working on hobbies, though. Art collection is a good way to ingratiate yourself, but so is golf. Or, I don’t know, sailing.”

“I know.” Logan sighed. “I just can’t stand golf. I played basketball as a teenager, and after the excitement of that — working with a team, fighting the buzzer, all that — golf just seems very boring.” He paused. “Sorry, I hope you aren’t a huge golf fan.”

“I’m not. I can see why it would be nice, I suppose, but these rich people talk about it so much that I don’t think I could ever try it for myself. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Thanks.” Logan grinned. “And don’t get me started on hearing people talk about hiring staff.”

Delaney chuckled. “With how much they pay their nannies and housekeepers, I sometimes wonder if I’m in the wrong field.”

“And the drivers,” Logan added. “This one man complained to me for half an hour the other day because his driver refused to go twenty miles over the speed limit when he was running late to a meeting.”

Delaney shook her head in wonder. “And then there are the property managers…”

They fell into an easy, light conversation about the strange things wealthy people did. As they talked, they ate, and Logan enjoyed the dinner of fried foods and desserts much more than he’d expected. Actually, he enjoyed this whole night much more than he’d expected. Instead of being a usual evening of boring small talk, he’d found Delaney, a woman he was impressed with and fascinated by.

They stayed in the bar, talking and laughing, until Logan glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. He had an early meeting the next day.

Delaney saw him check his watch and looked at her own phone. Her eyes widened again.

“We’d better get going,” she said. “This has been really nice, though.”

“It really has.” Logan hesitated. “Can I walk you home?”

“Um, yes.” Delaney smiled. “You’re just lucky I live near here. You could easily be walking me home for fifty blocks.”

“I think we would have taken a cab then, but point taken. I’ll just settle up, and then we can go.”

Logan paid for the meal, along with a generous tip, then met Delaney at the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said as they stepped back onto the streets. Her hands were clasped again.

“It was my pleasure. Which way?” Now, after midnight, the streets were a little emptier. A few people still passed, but they were much closer to being alone.

“Along here.” They set off towards Delaney’s apartment. Unlike the quick pace she’d set on the way to the bar, though, they walked more slowly now. Logan savored the cool night air and the beautiful woman by his side. This whole evening had felt like a snapshot from another life, a life in which Logan had time for romance.

Maybe they could stay in that other life a little longer. Logan didn’t usually pursue romance. His focus was much more on work than on flirting. But something about Delaney was special, and he didn’t want the evening to end just yet.

They chatted as they walked about nothing much. All too soon, Delaney came to a stop outside an old brick building with flowers in the window boxes.

“This is me.” She smiled. “Thanks again for a lovely evening.”

“Thank you, too. It was really nice to meet you.”

They both hesitated. Delaney didn’t make a move to go upstairs, and Logan didn’t turn to head towards his penthouse. Logan wanted to ask if she wanted to spend a little more time with him, but he didn’t want to push.

The moment stretched.