Pistol Whipped - Ashley Bostock Page 0,18
been a smart idea. Brilliant on his part.
“So, do you want to go with me?” She asked.
“What? Go where?”
“Gee, daydreaming much? I just told you, Marilyn and Blake are having a picnic this weekend. Will you come with me? Do you think Lucy would mind?”
“I’ve already told you she is not my keeper. Yes, I’ll go.” He refrained from asking about the chef.
“Good. Tell me, how was your day at the firm?”
Logan expelled a deep breath. “Good. Our meetings went pretty well. Hiroshi is one of my father’s longest and most affluent clients. He would be offended if I declined the invitation to his country. I just don’t know, Gabbie. Aside from the job, I’m not sure I could live here. It’s crowded—everywhere you turn, there are people. I’m not sure there is ever a lull of tourists. The constant honking and cars weaving in and out of traffic—when they can even move, it’s crazy. It’s not Windsor. Not by a long shot. And I’ve told you before how the people are different here. Much more blunt than home. They don’t smile and wave here.”
She laughed. “That’s the Midwest for you, we’re a friendly bunch!”
“It’s going to take a lot of hands-on work on my part in order to run his company successfully.”
“So, you are going to take the job?”
He paced back and forth; looking out the same window he’d looked out so many times before when he’d come back for summer break. He watched as a little old lady stepped out of her brownstone across the street carrying a plastic bag in one hand and holding a leash that was attached to a small white dog in the other hand. “I don’t know. Financially, it would be smart on my part. With this trip coming up, I’m seriously considering it. More so than I was before. It’s easy to get pulled into it and see the benefits when I’m standing inside his office versus being in my office in Colorado and just thinking about it. What do you think?”
“I think if you give it some time, an answer will come to you. You will know soon enough.”
“That wasn’t helpful advice, Gabriella,” he teased.
She laughed. “Sorry! I just have my own issues with you moving away.”
His interest was piqued. He sat down. “You do? Such as?”
“I would miss you terribly. I know that’s not a real good reason, but I would be lonely without you. I would miss Sundays.”
“You would still go to Donna’s house on Sundays, my spot would just be empty. They wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“But you wouldn’t be there. Which doesn’t mean I don’t want you to go, I do want you to have the best life…the best opportunities, you know? I better get going, I need to get some clothes on. Logan, thank you for the amazing invitation. There are no words to describe the gratefulness I feel about you asking me to go.”
She was still naked. Yummy. “Don’t go getting all mushy on me. I knew I couldn’t go there without you joining me. Talk to Brandi. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow to find out what she says.”
Even if he had to bribe Brandi himself, he had to get her to cover. Come hell or high water, Logan was going to do everything in his power to get Gabriella on a First-Class seat with him to Japan.
Chapter Eleven
Brandi walked into Lolita’s, carrying take-out food in one hand and trying to tighten her ponytail with her other hand. Her red hair stuck out with massive curls in all directions. “This is why I can’t stand ponytails. How in the fuck is it supposed to hold all of these damn curls?”
Gabriella smiled at her friend—who had a mouth like a sailor. True to stereotypes, Brandi was a red head on a rampage. She exuded more energy, all of the time, than Gabbie ever had half of the time. Brandi set the take-out down on Gabbie’s counter and pulled out the ponytail band. Shaking her head, all of her curls sprang free, creating a vivid firestorm around her pale white face.
Gabriella had never seen anyone more beautiful.
Blessed with bountiful hair, the Gods hadn’t stopped there. Her eyes were turquoise. Not blue or green, but both. Drowning in her eyes was not a metaphor. You just did. They were the color of an exotic island’s ocean—the color you see only in magazines unless you were lucky enough to have visited such a place. The mole above her