The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,46
the cause. Besides, you can network your little butt off, hobnobbing with all the guests. Play your cards right and you’ll walk out with a few new projects in your pocket.”
Logan must’ve inherited his talent for manipulation through pointed logic from his mother. Claire couldn’t deny the truth in Mrs. Prescott’s claims. She and Steffi could work the party for leads. Ben would be there, hopefully without a date. She could impose upon him to run interference with Peyton. And she did always love seeing Logan in a tux. “Good point. Guess I’d better send a check and scare up a cocktail dress.”
“Wonderful! I’ll make some introductions for you, too. Just interrupt me when you see me. You know how busy I get once the party begins.”
“Thank you.” Those words chafed her throat on their way out. Another Prescott she’d have to thank when all she’d wanted for the past year or so was to wipe that name from her memory. “Take care.”
Claire steered her cart around Mrs. Prescott and dive-bombed the checkout line, grabbing a pack of gum, a small bag of M&M’s, and a People magazine while waiting to pay her bill. She ripped open the M&M’s with her teeth and started guzzling them before she got to the car.
On the drive home, Logan called. Two Prescotts in ten minutes?
“Hello?”
“Claire, it’s Logan. Checking in to see how it’s going with my design.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Where are you now?”
She hesitated, unwilling to get roped into meeting him anywhere. She needed to regroup. “On my way home from the market. I just bumped into your mother, actually. She extended a personal invitation to attend the gala.”
“Did she?” He paused. “Well, now I have one reason to look forward to that night.”
She almost ran the stop sign, then slammed on the brakes. “Oof.”
“What just happened?”
“Nothing. Just . . . nothing.” She closed her eyes and slapped her cheek. Focus!
“Have you heard from the Wagners yet?” His coy tone made her stomach flutter.
She hung her head and sighed before admitting defeat. “Today, actually. I planned to call you later.”
“Why do I think you might’ve put that off a bit longer?” The little chuckle in his voice caused another quiver in her core.
“Can you meet me there tomorrow morning?”
“No, actually, I need to run to the city tomorrow.”
“Oh.” The crashing disappointment flashed like a yellow traffic light, warning her that she’d better work harder to kill her feelings where Logan Prescott was concerned. “Well, send me a few dates that you’re available, and I’ll set it up.”
“I will, but let’s circle back a sec. You haven’t said much about my design. Are you having trouble?”
“No,” she said, realizing too late that her overly bright voice might’ve given away the truth.
“Liar.”
She grimaced. “I’m not lying. I’m just . . . a little stuck. Haven’t hit the right note yet.”
“Gee, I wonder why.” He sniggered.
Did he suspect her crush on him made her unable to do her job? How utterly unprofessional. For once in her life, she wished she were more sophisticated. “Oh? Enlighten me.”
“You need to see the space, Claire. Come with me tomorrow. You’ll get a better feel for everything when you’re there, and I’ll have you back before dinner.”
“I can’t go to Manhattan.” Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, although part of her did want to visit his home. The two-dimensional images had only whetted her appetite. She wanted to touch the things he touched, hear what he heard, smell what he smelled.
“I could claim this as my prize, you know, but I’d rather not feel like a bully. Please come. I promise I won’t leave your side. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
Thankfully, she arrived at her house and parked her car before accidentally running over some kid on a bike, or Bubba, the neighbors’ dog. Her heart raced. She flexed her hands to bring blood to her fingertips.
“Claire? Are you there?”
“Yes.” She exhaled slowly.
“I know you’re anxious, but I swear the most horrifying thing you’ll see is my ugly furniture. In fact, I should rethink the invitation and preserve my mystique.”
She laughed. “Hate to break it to you, but your image was blown when you coughed up those photos.”
Neither said anything for a moment. It seemed as if he was waiting to see if she’d accept the challenge.
“There’s a wonderful bistro near my place that serves the best crème brûlée.” His low voice sounded as rich and alluring as that dessert. “It’ll be a reward for facing your fear.”