“Piece of shit,” Priest muttered, and began to delete.
Logan frowned, but didn’t comment on Priest’s outburst. “I heard court didn’t go so well today.”
Priest stopped what he was doing and looked at Logan. “I thought the Fields case would be a slam dunk, but apparently it’s going to be a little more drawn out than I’d originally thought.”
“That’s unlike you. You can usually anticipate what someone will say before it’s even been said. Something on your mind?”
Priest bristled at the question, hating the implication that he was distracted, but he was also aware that Logan was right. Priest did have something on his mind—several somethings, in fact. But it wasn’t like he could just talk about it with his boss—or business partner. Revealing that your father was a convicted murderer, and your boyfriend was pissed off at you because you didn’t tell him, might not go down so well, considering how protective Logan was of Robbie.
“Nothing’s on my mind. Things just went a different way than I expected,” Priest said, and the more he spoke, the more his irritation over what he could and couldn’t control in his life rose to the surface. So did Robbie’s face from this past weekend, and suddenly all of the frustration Priest had been keeping a lid on exploded. “I can’t be a rock star every fucking day, Logan, and I would think my track record would be enough to overlook this one setback.”
“Whoa,” Logan said, and held his hands up. “I didn’t come in here to bust your balls, but I might kick you in them if you don’t calm the fuck down.”
Priest rocked back in his chair and ran a hand over his face.
“What the hell is going on with you today?” Logan said. “I’ve never seen you so”—he waved his hand up and down—“wound up before.”
“I’m not wound up.”
“You aren’t now because you just blew your fucking top. But you were,” Logan said, and then he looked around the office as though searching for something. “Tell me you have some alcohol in here. I know you don’t have much, but—”
“There’s a bottle of scotch in the cabinet under the bookcase.”
Logan got to his feet and headed over to grab the alcohol, and as he came back to the desk, Priest pulled two paper cups out of his drawer.
“We really need to get you some furnishings in this place. Paper cups? That’s just sad,” Logan said. “Or better yet, have Robbie come in and decorate for you. I’m sure he wouldn’t add too much glitter if you told him not to.”
“I don’t think he’s really in the…glittery kind of mood right now,” Priest said, and then looked up and saw Logan wearing a smirk. “What?”
Logan shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s just…” Logan started to chuckle. “This mood of yours is all making much more sense now.”
Priest said nothing in response, but that didn’t stop Logan.
“Have a fight with Robbie, did we?”
“I’m not talking about this.”
“Right,” Logan said, as he poured himself a cup and took his seat again. “Because keeping it to yourself seems to be working so well.”
Priest downed his drink, and then held his cup out for some more. As Logan poured it, Priest thought for a second and figured there was no harm in opening up about this part of his life with a friend.
“Fine. Yes. I had a…falling out with Robert.”
“Ahh, okay. I figured your pricklier-than-usual mood was a result of an argument with one of your men,” Logan said as he sat back in his seat. “It’s the one thing that distracts the hell out of me too. Whenever I fuck up with Tate.”
“What makes you think I fucked up?”
Logan arched an eyebrow. “Just a guess. And as one who recently pissed off Robbie, I can honestly say I know how it feels to disappoint him.”
Priest let out a sigh. “It feels like shit.”
Logan slowly nodded. “So, what’d you do?” Priest eyed Logan. “You told me you’d look after him. You don’t think I’m going to leave this be until you make it right, do you?”
“I will look after him, and I have made it right.” Priest thought about all that had happened. “It’s just taking a little time to smooth back out. We had a miscommunication about something. Or, should I say, lack of communication on my part.”
“Imagine that,” Logan said, and Priest gave him a questioning look. “You, not being forthcoming about something.”
“You’re not helping, Mitchell.”
“Was I supposed to be? I thought my job was to listen.”
“If you’re going to just sit there and be a smartass, you can leave.”
“My apologies. This is just so rare. You wanting my help with something.”
“Which I’m starting to regret.”
“No, no. I’m just giving you shit. I’ve been exactly where you are with Tate, and it was horrible.” Logan smoothed a hand over his tie. “Time, space—I’m not good at giving that. I’m not very patient.”