Chapter 4

MAGGIE

Logan looks uncomfortable with this conversation, and I can’t blame him.

We’re talking about marriage like it’s a business transaction, and it might as well be because he needs an heir that I can give him, and he’s going to provide the money that my father wants.

I’ve always been a selfish girl, one who has made a ton of mistakes because of it, but I can’t take this away from my father. He needs the money to keep afloat.

A partnership with the Malorys could not only save his company but his reputation, as well, and I want to be the one to give something back to my dad, even if it’s a marriage of convenience.

He clears his throat. Uncertainty crosses his features as he looks at me. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Let’s talk about what happens after the child is born.” I have to make sure I’m getting everything that I’m signing up for. “What if your heir is a girl and not a boy?”

“The gender doesn’t matter. If she’s a girl, she gets the same thing that a boy would.”

“What about your girlfriend?” I blurt out.

I probably shouldn’t even be asking this. I mean, why should I be bothered if he’s going to stay in a relationship or not? It’s not like Logan and I are in love.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says with a straight face.

“I’m sure I saw a woman with you during the winter charity function.”

I remember that night as clear as day. Logan was dressed to impress in a dark tux. A tall, gorgeous woman was on his arm, and together they looked like a perfect Hollywood couple.

With the way the woman smiled up to him, and the subtle arm caresses, I was under the impression that the lady was Logan’s newest antique to be added on the shelf.

“You mean Iris. She’s just a friend.” His face doesn’t twitch. There’s no emotion when he says it, so either he’s broken up with this “Iris” or he’s a pro at keeping a poker face.

“I think I saw somewhere in the tabloids that they saw her leave your hotel the following morning.”

His serious face cracks into a smile. “I don’t see how that is relevant to any of this.”

“It is relevant because I wouldn’t marry a man who’s already taken. I’m a lot of things, but homewrecker or boyfriend-snatcher isn’t one of them.”

“As I said, it was casual. She was my date that night, and I allowed myself to be persuaded into taking her to my bedroom.”

“I won’t allow such ‘casual’ meetings with your friends after we’re married. No matter what you think this is going to be, I can’t have you sleeping with other women. Is that too much to ask?”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t. You don’t need to worry about that. Is your ex in the picture?”

“My ex?”

He frowns. “Yes. The father of your son?”

I wave my hand. “Chase might as well be conceived by sperm donation. Trust me, I don’t think the father even knows he’s a boy.”

I’m very bad at reading expressions, but I think I see relief cross his features. “I see.”

He knows who the father is. He knows what transpired at that time, but he’s going to pretend that he’d forgotten all about it, and I’m not the one who’s going to remind him.

“Chase’s father left us when he was just born and we were teens. He didn’t want the responsibility of a child, and I decided to let him pursue his dreams.”

“What could be more important than a family?” he asks.

“For him, it was his career. My baby and I were a hindrance, so I set him free.”

“You deserve better. I might not be the ideal father for Chase or the best husband, but I’ll try.”

“I’m sure you won’t disappoint me, Logan.”

“You will have my credit cards at your disposal and the house staff, but I won’t be able to give you a lot of time.

“I hope you understand that. I’m a very busy man, and I spend a lot of my time in my office and then in my study so you won’t see me”—he coughs—“except at night.”

A blush rises on my cheeks. “All I ask is for you to be available for me at dinnertime.”

He nods. “That can be arranged.”

The man doesn’t seem enthusiastic about spending his precious dinnertime with me.

I’m not sure how I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.

LOGAN

If it wasn’t for my father forcing me into this, I wouldn’t be getting married at all.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I get envious when I see some of my married buddies, enjoying their time with their wives and kids, taking family trips, and doing all the traditional shit.

The way the couples look at each other is PDA enough for me to awaken my gag reflexes.

When I do take the rare trip, I live in empty mansions and take my work with me, so there’s not much fun that I can have.

It gets a little lonely, sitting in that reclining chair, staring out at a magnificent view but having no one to share it with.

The yearning for my own family is almost there, but then it quickly vanishes when I recall my other friends whose lives were destroyed by divorce.

Not to mention, one such example is within my closest family.

My parents.

My mother left my father for another man, and you would think that she would at least have loved her son, the one she had given birth to, the innocent boy who had nothing to do with their toxic marriage.

But sadly, that wasn’t the case. In fact, she didn’t want anything to do with me. I grew up with nannies who did the job that they were paid to.

“Chase’s nanny can be on my payroll from now on. She can stay with the rest of my house staff,” I tell Maggie.

She frowns. “Chase doesn’t have a nanny.”

That comes as a shock to me. Most married women in high society liked to have hired help to take care of their children while they attend charities and go on shopping sprees or trips to other countries.

This is certainly something to me.

Unless she didn’t have a nanny because they couldn’t afford one.

“Perhaps you would want to hire one?” I try again.

She shakes her head. “Thank you, but I don’t want a nanny for Chase. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my son, as I have done since the day he was born.”

It’s odd, even my friends have had nannies for their kids.

I’m about to ask her the reason when Chase comes running to the table. “Mom, look! I got a balloon!”

She exclaims like she’s never seen a balloon before. “Let’s tie it to your chair so it doesn’t float to the ceiling.”

Chase looks like a mini version of Maggie. He’s got light brown hair and large, dark eyes. He wears round-framed Harry Potter glasses and he’s talking to his mother a mile a minute, but as soon as his gaze lands on me, he stops.

He yanks Maggie’s sleeve and whispers something to her, his eyes still on me. She laughs and whispers something back.

I feel like a third wheel, and I don’t like it.

“Can I know what you two are talking about?”

She giggles. “Maybe you should ask him.” She climbs to her feet. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to go to the bathroom.”

Before I can ask her not to leave me alone with the child, she walks away without looking back.

I’m left alone with her kid. Shit!

Chase continues to stare at me with curiosity. I’m not looking at him, but I can feel his eyes burning holes into my body. I shift my attention toward my phone.

I’m not even opening any emails, just scrolling so people will think I’m busy. This is the shit I do when I want to avoid awkward conversations.

I’m overreacting. He’s just a little kid, but fuck if I know how to handle little demons.

“Do you go to school?” I ask him.

“Of course, I do. That’s the dumbest thing anyone has ever asked me.”

Okkkaaayyy… Boy’s got a lot of sass for a kid his age.

I bet his mother doesn’t even know he talks like that when she’s not around.

“Figured you would.” Frankly, I’m at a loss for words.

He sits Superhero on the chair and feeds him his donut, then takes a bite. “Mister Logan, are you going to marry my mother?”

“Yes.”

He sizes me up. I’m not fucking kidding. He literally does. “Does that mean I have to move into your house too?”

“Who’s asking dumb questions now?”

He laughs. “I guess that’s a given, then.” He pushes his glasses over the bridge of his pudgy nose.

I’m curious who taught him to talk like that. I remember when I was his age and having difficulty stringing two sentences together.

“Does that mean you’ll be my dad?” I think I see his eyes light up a little bit.

“Stepdad,” I correct him.

“Can I call you Dad then?”

“Logan is fine.”

“Why can’t I call you Dad?”

“Because I’m not really your father.”

He nods. “Makes sense.”

A few peaceful minutes pass, then he asks, “Do you have any kids, Logan?”

“No.”

“Oh, shucks, would have been nice to have someone of my age to play with.”

I want to tell the kid that if I’d decided to have a child, he would have been a lot older than Chase, but looking at this child demon, I’m almost glad I never had one.

“What kind of car do you have?”

“Lots of ’em.”

“Can I get a car when Mommy marries you?”

“When you’re old enough to drive, you will.”

“How old is old enough?”

God, kid. Do you ever shut up? “Seventeen.”

“I’ll be seventeen soon.”

Where the hell was Maggie? What’s taking so long, unless she’s taking a major dump?

As if on cue, I see Maggie walk toward our table. She glances between her son and at me. “Did you boys get along well?”

“Mommy! Guess what?” He’s laying it on thick.

“What is it, honey?”

“Logan said I can call him Dad!”

Maggie’s face lights up like Fourth of July fireworks. “That’s great, baby.” She looks at me with newfound affection. “Thanks, Logan.”

“Uh…yeah…sure.”

It’s not easy to tell her the truth when she’s looking at me like that.

When Maggie isn’t looking, I glare at Chase. Satan’s spawn gives me an evil smile.

I have a feeling my life’s going to be ruined.