Blind Date with the Boss (Heads or Hearts #6)

​CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘THAT WAS UNFAIR,’ Sally remarked as Logan drove back into the city, late for their dinner engagement, because she and Hattie had spent such a long time chatting. ‘You should have warned me that the roses were for your sweet little grandmother.’

In the glare of the oncoming headlights, Logan saw her indignant frown and braced himself for the attack he knew he deserved.

‘Why have you let everyone in the office think the roses were for your lovers?’

‘Is that what everyone thinks?’

‘Most,’ Sally amended hotly.

‘I’m afraid they overestimate me, Sally. I’m not given to daft romantic gestures. The women I date never expect anything like that.’

Sally opened her mouth. Frowned, and shut it again. Unhappily she said, ‘But you let the rumour spread.’

‘Look Sally, for a start, a boss shouldn’t get involved in office gossip.’ He chanced a smile. ‘Secondly, why spoil a good story with the truth? More importantly, Hattie is family. She’s none of Blackcorp’s business.’

‘So why did you take me to see her?’

It was a very fair question. Logan wished he could offer a definitive answer. His decision had felt instinctive, but he’d never been an intuitive type, so taking Sally to visit his grandmother on a whim had been completely out of character.

Almost everything he’d done since he met Sally was out of character. He would have to rectify that. Very soon. But right now he could think of no plausible explanation to offer her except the simple truth. ‘I knew you two would get on well.’

Sally considered this and said, after a bit, ‘Okay, maybe you were right about us hitting it off. Hattie’s an absolute darling. But if you’ve never taken any of your – um – female friends to see her before, aren’t you worried that she might read deeper significance into my visit?’

With the twenty-twenty vision of hindsight, Logan had to agree. He’d taken one look at Hattie’s animated delight and he’d known that his impulse to bring Sally was foolish. But their dancing class had cast some kind of spell on him and the impulsive invitation had made perfect sense at the time.

Later, he’d been attacked by doubts, but then he’d applied logic and had come up with the same answer. Sally Finch got on well with everyone. With her gift for making friends, she would brighten his grandmother’s life and give the poor old girl the lift she needed.

It wasn’t much fun for an intelligent, lively woman, who’d had a passion for life and a brilliant, artistic career, to end up in a nursing home. But Hattie couldn’t live alone any more and she couldn’t stay with Logan’s parents. She’d never got on with his father. And she hadn’t wanted to impose herself on either Logan or Carissa.

Now his parents were travelling around Australia in their caravan – doing the lap of honour, as his mother called it. Carissa was busy with her career and her family and Logan had assumed the responsibility of keeping an eye on Hattie.

Until tonight, he’d always visited her alone. So taking Sally had been something of a risk. Crazy, no doubt.

In the car’s darkened interior, he sent her a repentant smile. ‘You deserve an apology. I’m sorry. My bad joke misfired. I should have explained about Hattie.’

‘I’m just embarrassed that she assumes we’re a couple.’

‘I’ll resolve that confusion next time I see her.’

If Logan expected this to soothe Sally, he was out of luck. With a little huff of annoyance, she crossed her arms and then her legs and sat very stiffly, staring away from him through the passenger window.

The view of her legs, revealed by a short black skirt and encased in sheer tights, became a traffic hazard and he manfully kept his attention on the road.

He had reserved a table at his favourite restaurant, nestled close to the water in a cove of Sydney Harbour. As always, he was greeted like an old friend by Marco, the head waiter, who didn’t mind at all that he and Sally were late. He showed them to their table set by a huge window.

It was a rare pleasure to watch the delight in Sally’s face when she saw the view of the water and sparkling reflections, the lights of the harbour bridge, and the city beyond.

Marco seemed to enjoy watching her, too and as he whisked out her table napkin and set it on her lap, he sent Logan a silent, wide-eyed, Wow!

Logan had to remind himself that this wasn’t a real date. He was only bringing Sally here because he owed her for the lessons.

It helped to remember that Sally wasn’t his type. She was warm and generous and lovely – distractingly lovely tonight in her little black dress – but she was also an idealist and a hopeless romantic.

Until he’d achieved his long-term business goals, he simply couldn’t afford to become entangled with a girl like her. Tonight, he would be polite and distant, offering courtesy and friendliness, but extra careful to keep everything on a strictly business level.

‘This is a gorgeous restaurant.’ Sally smiled her approval as she took in details of the clean and restrained décor, the crisp white tablecloths, the pale timber floors and modern lighting.

‘The chef here is superb,’ he told her, sending a salute to the busy open-plan kitchen. ‘He’s French, but the menu is very cosmopolitan and there’s always a good selection.’

Sally studied the meals carefully and her brow furrowed more deeply as she progressed.

Logan wondered what was wrong. Carefully, he asked, ‘Does anything there take your fancy?’

‘It all sounds lovely, but everything’s so expensive. The fee for one dancing class might buy me a bowl of soup, but not much more.’

Good grief . Was she serious?

He caught a wicked gleam in the china-blue eyes watching him over the menu and knew she was teasing, was surprised by how much this delighted him.

‘Let me see,’ he said, keeping his face poker player straight. ‘I’d estimate that this dinner should cover the cost of one, maybe two lessons.’

Lowering her gaze to the menu, Sally replied serenely, ‘But we’d better not have wine. That would push the price way too high.’

‘Unless you escorted me to the ball, as well.’

The menu slipped from Sally’s hands as quickly as the colour left her cheeks. ‘You can’t mean that.’

She was right. Logan couldn’t believe he’d made such a reckless suggestion. He was never impulsive!

‘Look,’ he said, exasperated by his inability to remain sensible and composed in this woman’s presence. ‘Let’s forget about the ball for now. It’s Friday evening and it’s getting late and we’re hungry. I’d like to enjoy a pleasant meal and I’ve invited you to share it with me. Let’s leave it at that?’

‘Right,’ Sally said with surprising meekness.

He thought he’d dampened her spirits then, so he was relieved that they enjoyed a very pleasant evening. The meal began with an excellent vichyssoise soup, followed by a schnitzel pan fried with parmesan for Sally, who thought it was “fabulous”, while Logan had a superb Greek lamb dish. For dessert he chose a chocolate pot and Sally a light lemon tart.

While they ate, they talked sensibly about places they’d visited, books they’d read and movies they’d seen. Logan found himself laughing at some of Sally’s witty observations, and there were times when he had to remember to stop smiling. But for the most part they shared a safe and impersonal conversation. He thanked heavens that Sally had got the message that this was payment and not a date.

The only hiccup arrived with their coffee, when the dashing French chef, Michel, brought an extra coffee cup and joined them at their table.

Michel was an old friend of Logan’s and he’d developed a ritual of sharing coffee with him towards the end of the evening, when the pace in the kitchen slowed and could be dealt with by minions. Logan usually enjoyed his friend’s company.

But tonight, Michel, with his Frenchman’s love of romance, took a long look at Sally and Logan knew there’d be trouble.

The chef’s dark eyes flashed a thousand fervent signals as he bent low to kiss Sally’s hand. ‘Enchanted to meet you, mademoiselle,’ he murmured in his sexiest accent.

Sally was incredibly flattered, of course, and Logan struggled with a ridiculous urge to tell his good friend to get lost.

‘You’re a sensational chef,’ Sally told Michel. ‘The food tonight was divine.’

Michel pressed a melodramatic hand to his heart. ‘My constant inspiration is the knowledge that a beautiful woman like you will be eating my food.’

Sally laughed and then she shot Logan a telling glance. ‘I guess you must come here often.’

‘My friend has superb taste,’ Michel said, giving Logan’s shoulder an enthusiastic thump.

‘And I dare say he provides you with lots of inspiration,’ Sally suggested silkily. ‘Via his companions.’

There was a mischievous glint in Sally’s eyes, but Logan glared at her.

Michel guffawed, and clapped his hands. ‘Ah, but tonight my good friend has surpassed himself.’

‘Be careful, Michel.’ Logan was compelled to set the record straight. ‘Sally is a colleague and tonight’s dinner is a – a business dinner.’

Throwing up his hands up in horror, Michel cried, ‘A business dinner on a Friday night? What a terrible thought. Logan, I thought you were much more sensitive than that.’

Despite his discomfort, Logan managed to grin. ‘Okay, mate, I won’t insult you. It’s impossible to discuss business with such amazing food as yours.’

‘So, Sall ee ,’ Michel said, adding charming emphasis to the second syllable. ‘What do you think? Was your mind totally focused on business tonight? Or were you swept away by my brilliance in the kitchen?’

? ‘Oh, from the moment I stepped through the door, I was totally, totally swept away.’

‘Yes, yes!’ Michel grinned widely and leapt to his feet. ‘You see, Logan. This wonderful woman, she understands. And I was watching from the kitchen, you know.’ He tapped the side of his arrogant French nose with a long forefinger and grinned. ‘We all know that this was no business dinner.’

If Michel saw Logan’s gritted teeth and clenched jaw, he made no sign, but perhaps the chef knew he’d played this to the hilt and that it was time to depart. Taking Sally’s hand, he kissed it once more, gave Logan a parting salute, then abruptly returned to his kitchen.

‘Bit over the top, wasn’t he?’ Logan muttered when they were alone once more.

‘I guess he’s allowed to be when he produces such fabulous food.’

‘I thought you might have been embarrassed that yet another person latched onto the wrong idea about us. It’s annoying when we’ve both been clear from the start that this wasn’t a date.’

? She didn’t meet his gaze, gave a small shrug. ‘I don’t think we’ve done anything or said anything tonight that crossed the line between a business arrangement and a date, do you?’

‘No, no, of course not.’

Eyes still lowered, Sally fiddled with her napkin on her lap.

Anxious that the evening didn’t end on a bad note, Logan tried to make amends. ‘It’s all a game with Michel. He’s French and he’s a hopeless romantic. He likes to think his little restaurant can turn total strangers into lovers at one sitting.’

Sally offered a tiny smile. ‘Don’t worry. I was joking about being carried away. I know very well that it takes more than a dinner date for two people to fall in love.’

Logan was sure that this comment should have given him comfort, but was dismayed that he felt even worse.