By mid-afternoon I was in a state of sheer panic, so I did what I’ve always done when I’ve had a dilemma—at least for the last ten years. I went to Logan’s.
Logan Howlett has been my best friend since the first day of my freshman year in high school. He was a senior. We met in biology. I was sitting in the back, trying not to throw up from nerves, when Logan walked in long after the bell had rung. The only available seat was next to mine, and on that fated day we became assigned work partners for the rest of the year.
If we hadn’t met at the very beginning of my first year there, I doubt we’d have become friends. We were as far apart on the spectrum as we could be. I was the geek no one knew existed; Logan was the cool guy everyone respected. He was a jock, but that isn’t to say he was a dunce. Logan’s way smarter than me. You could bring up the most obscure topic and Logan would know everything there is to know about it. He just doesn’t apply himself in things that don’t interest him.
I blame Logan’s father for his lack of motivation. Mr. Howlett made Genghis Khan look like Mr. Rogers. If I had a father like that, I’d be a major slacker too.
Maybe I’m painting the wrong picture of Logan. I don’t mean to make it sound like he sits around all day eating bonbons. He doesn’t. He’s an ex-college hockey player who became a sports therapist who went on to get a degree in Sports Medicine and who also now has a thriving practice. He gets by well enough to afford a great loft just outside of White Plains with an attached studio he uses for his personal gym.
Anyway, I maintain he could easily become a mogul if he put his mind to it. It’s not often Logan really wants something, but when he gets it in his head, there’s no stopping him.
I let myself into his building with my key. I have a key to his loft too, but I always knock. It’s the polite thing to do. Logan rolls his eyes and says I should just come in, but I know the one time I do I’ll catch him browsing Internet porn or-- oh god--- him with one of his female companions. I’d never actually seen him with any of them inside of his loft before, but I know they come over occasionally. And I’d be damned if I was going to walk in on any of that skanky hanky panky.
I banged my fist on the door, hoping he wasn’t busy. Muttering curses under my breath, I shook out my hand. His door is an original one from the warehouse—ergo, thick metal. It’s like knocking on the door of an industrial refrigerator.
He must have not been looking up internet porn or anything because he opened up immediately. “Marie. This is a surprise.”
The familiar way his smile lit his face and his hazel eyes sparkled eased the tightness in my chest a little.
“Are you busy?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“’Course not.” He pulled me in and hugged me. Logan gave the best hugs. “Let me save the changes I’m making to my schedule and then I’m yours.”
Right. He’d never be mine. Yes, I was attractive and witty, but I’d never deluded myself to think I was his type—leggy and red.
Still, Logan is one of those kind guys that also happens to be drop-dead gorgeous. He has thick, wavy Matthew McConaughey hair and a lean, muscled body from his regular workouts. Combined with his intellect, humor and talent for massages, he was a woman’s dream date. One day I wanted a man just like him.
I followed him to the area he had sectioned off for an office. I paced back and forth behind him while he poked at the keyboard. I was just about to shove him aside and do it myself when he finally turned around. “Okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”
That’s the great thing about Logan. He knows me. And he didn’t hold it against me that I hadn’t had free time to hang out with him the past few months.
All right--- fine. I admit it’d been more than a few months. If I wanted the VP salary, I had to prove that I could work like one. Which meant long hours and no time for socializing.
I swallowed my guilt at being such a poor, undeserving friend and forged ahead. “I’m desperate. I need your help. I want to employ your services.”
“What? You need a massage?”
“No, I need a man to stud.”
“What?” He jumped out of his chair so quickly it toppled over. I found the spinning wheels oddly mesmerizing. He paid no attention to it, his eyes riveted on me.
Did I mention that he could really focus when he wanted to?
“I need someone to father a baby.” I realized how this sounded when his eyes bugged out. “Not for me, you idiot. For Jean--- my boss.”
He relaxed, his shoulders slumped in his typical untailored pose. “That’s a relief.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
He wrapped an arm around my neck and gave me a noogie. “Just that I don’t think I’m ready for you to get settled, kid.”
I hate it when he calls me that. Usually, I remind him that I’m only a few years younger than him and, at five-five, by medieval standards I was of Amazonian proportions, but today I shut up. I needed his help—bad. There was no way I could accomplish this without him, and I wasn’t about to antagonize my only hope. “So are you going to help me or not?”
He righted his chair and plopped onto it, learning back until the front wheels were six inches off the ground. I bit my lip to keep from telling him he was going to fall backward and crack his head open.
He studied me, his chin tipped to one side. He took my right hand and gently rubbed it, starting at the base of my palm and working his way out to my fingertips.
I tried not to melt but it was awfully hard. Tingles shot up my arm and down my spine, pooling in a pit right at the center of me.
But I was here on business, so I pushed the warm Logan feeling aside and pulled my hand from his. “Well?”
“This is important to you?”
“If I do this, I get my promotion.”
He nodded. “And this promotion is what you really want?”
“It means more money, which means I’d be that much closer to being able to buy a home.” He knew buying a home is all I’ve ever wanted.
“With the way you pinch and save I’d think you’d have enough to put down on a place. Maybe not in the City, but definitely in the outskirts.”
“Well…” I gave a little laugh and cleared my throat.
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Marie, your father’s not still hitting you up for money, is he?”
Oh no. I hated when this came up. I knew he was just protective of me, but I wished he understood that I couldn’t not help my dad. But given Logan’s relationship with his estranged father, his reaction was to be expected. “The issue here is my promotion.”
Read: this subject is not up for debate.
He stared at me for what seemed like forever. “Isn’t finding your boss a sperm donor beyond the call of duty? You already deserve the promotion, if you ask me.”
“It’s what she wants me to do.” I forced a smile. “It’s the ultimate research project. If I do this, I’m worthy.”
He scowled. “You’re worthy anyway.”
Logan was so sweet.
“And why can’t she do what normal people do and go to a sperm bank?”
“She doesn’t want to. She’s worried about quality control, and I don’t blame her.”
Actually, I didn’t really understand what the big deal was about a sperm bank either. Except that there was a possibility that her child could have dozens of other brothers and sisters. Or that her child’s father could be a psycho.
I shook my head. None of that mattered. “I have three weeks to find her a viable candidate or I’m fired.”
“What?” Logan’s scowl deepened. “She can’t do that. Want me to talk to her?”
I sighed. “No, I want you to help me find a sperm donor. You know how I am around people I don’t know.”
He grinned. “You mean inept?”
“I just get a little tongue-tied.”
“You don’t get tongue-tied. You spew. Remember that time I took you to Hank’s Christmas party and you pointed out to his girlfriend that her shoes were made from an animal on the endangered species list?”
“Well, they were.”
“And the time we went to that bar and—“
“Stop.”
“- that guy next to us tried picking you up, but you kept quoting facts on how---“
“Seriously. Stop it.” I held up my hand. “I think experience has shown that I have no social skills.”
He tugged on one of my runaway locks. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
I batted his hand away and tucked my hair back into its ponytail.
“You should wear your hair down more. It’s beautiful.”
I snorted. “It’s frizzy and out of control.”
Logan cross his arms and studied me. “It’s not frizzy. And is being in control that important?”
I shrugged. “It is if it’ll get me my house.”
He didn’t say anything but I could read his thoughts. As a former army brat, I didn’t doubt that he understood how important my dream was to me. But sometimes I wondered if he could really appreciate what it meant. I mean, my father and I moved every few months, always to a tiny apartment that was worse than the one before it. I just wanted a place that was mine. A home instead of a hovel, one that I’d never have to leave.
“Okay.” He nodded.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Thank God.” I heaved a sigh of relief. Logan was full of charisma. Strangers—women—flocked to talk to him all the time. With him helping, I was sure to compile my list in no time.
He leaned back in his chair again. “So what’s the plan, kid?”
I ignored the ‘kid’ only because he’d just agreed to help me. “We need to meet some men. I have a list of criteria here. It’s organized by order of importance.” I pulled out my handheld, brought up the characteristics Jean wanted in her donor, and handed it to him.
He read it out loud. “’Blue eyes (any shade), brown hair, dimples, successful in business, busy work schedule, good parentage, intelligence, attractive, and looks good in sunglasses.” He stared at me incredulously. “Looks good in sunglasses?”
I shrugged. “It’s what she wants.”
“You don’t think that’s weird?”
I found this whole endeavor weird, but if it meant me getting my promotion I wasn’t going to question it. “I’m sure Jean has her reasons.”
Logan shook his head in disbelief. “No wonder she can’t find her own husband.”
“She doesn’t want a husband. She just wants a sperm donor.”
“Whatever. So what’s the plan?”
“I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that.” I smiled. I hoped I looked innocently appealing and not like I was baring my teeth at him. “I need a list of potential candidates by next Friday morning.”
“Eight days, huh?” He shook his head and grabbed my hand—the left one this time—and massaged it as thoroughly as my right one. I tried to pull away but he held fast.
Logan touches. All the time. He always has. It’s how he communicates.
I’m uncomfortable with the touchy-feely stuff. You’d think I’d be used to it by now—we had been friends for ten years, after all. I guess it’s because I didn’t grow up with it. At least not since I was six, before my mom died. When Logan touches me so casually I’m torn between needing to put space between us and wanting to curl into him and let him pet me all over.
I flushed beet red. That was not something I needed to think about.
I tugged my hand. “Well?”
“I’m thinking.” His fingers pressed a particularly sensitive spot.
I clamped my lips on the moan that rose in my throat.
Space—need to get free. I jerked my hand hard. Logan chose that moment to release it and I flew back into his desk.
He frowned at me. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing.” No way was I telling my best friend he was making my nerves tingle in places I didn’t realize I had nerves.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re strange sometimes, Marie. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You meet me at a club of my choosing tomorrow night and I’ll show you how to meet people.”
“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”
“Hell no.” He shook his head vigorously. “Leave my friends out of this. I like that they talk to me.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and then shrugged. I’d take whatever he’d give me.
Logan leaned back in his chair. “What do I get for helping you?”
I frowned. “What do you want?”
A wicked gleam hit his eyes. “A boon.”
“A boon?” I scowled. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’ll help you make your list and you’ll give me whatever I ask for.”
His satisfied smile made me nervous. “You aren’t going to want my firstborn or anything, are you?”
“And if I did?”
The way he looked at me made me understand how Little Red Riding Hood felt in the wolf’s presence. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“Would I ever hurt you?”
“No.” I didn’t have to think about that.
“Then what’s to worry?”
He had me there. I hated when Logan outmaneuvered me. “Fine.”
He grinned. “Shake on it.”
I reluctantly took his hand. Somehow, I knew this was going to come back and bite me in the ass.
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Chapter End Notes:
For the record... one day I want a man just like him, too. =D