“Leah, I forgot to tell you, I couldn’t cancel your five thirty,” Mandi said as I walked by her desk.
“It’s fine I’m on my way now. If Mister Lehmbeck calls tell him I am on my way.”
My nerves were getting the best of me the closer I got to his address and as I drove up the long circular driveway, I was sure I would have to stop so I could be sick. But as soon as the house came into view, the sick feeling fell away and my jaw dropped open. It was the most stunning design I had ever laid eyes on, and it should be in a magazine.
I slowed my car and just looked at the house taking it all in. I saw his truck parked out front and I pulled my car in behind his, hoping he hadn’t seen my vehicle pull up. I slowly got out of the car, taking my laptop and phone with me and I walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
I turned to look at the front yard. This place was a little oasis hidden up a long driveway buried in the trees. Logan had done well for himself. I turned around just in time to have the front door pulled open and saw Logan standing inside the door. The look on his face was one of shock.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came for my appointment with Mister Lehmbeck,” I answered, swallowing hard, trying to keep the look of want from my face.
He stood there not knowing what to do. “Mister Lehmbeck, it would be easier if you let me in to see what your place will need.”
“Cut the crap, Leah, what are you really doing here?”
“Mister Lehmbeck, you may call me Miss Tate. Do I have to remind you, you are the one who requested this appointment with Preston Interior Design?”
He looked at me as if I were kidding but when my face showed no signs of a smile, he stepped to the side and let me in.
I stepped into the foyer, removed my shoes and looked around. The house was a blank canvas and I was secretly excited to get started.
“Seriously, Leah, what are you doing here?”
“You called Preston Interior Design and requested the designer who completed the work at the Boston Harbor Hotel, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Well, you got her. Now, if you wouldn’t mind showing me around.”
Logan’s jaw dropped as I spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me that today? You said you were working for some small firm.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket getting the camera ready to take pictures. “Because I didn’t find it important, now where would you like to start?”
“You didn’t find it important to tell me you were working for one of the largest design firms in Boston, or make any comment when I told you I wanted you to do the design for me?”
I ignored him and walked further into his home. I was already making notes, color ideas, style and lighting.
“Leah, are you going to answer me?”
“It’s Miss Tate. Now please, Preston charges two hundred dollars an hour for consultations. I don’t want to waste your time or money, Mister Lehmbeck. Are we going to get started?”
Once Logan started showing me around, I noticed how well the house flowed and the more excited I got.
It was a little after seven by the time we entered the kitchen, the last room of the tour. I dropped my notepad onto the island and continued making more notes. I was just about finished when Logan stepped up beside me.
“So, do you think you can fix me up here?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. Give me a week or two to get my ideas together and then my team and I will get started,” I said, keeping my eyes trained to the paper.
I heard him exhale and then he leaned against the island and cleared his throat. “Leah, why haven’t you looked at me once since you got here?”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and continued writing. “Mister Lehmbeck, I told you, it’s Miss Tate to you. I am here to do a job, not flirt like you have been doing with me for the past two hours. Now, if you want me to do this job for you . . .”
“Fine, Miss Tate, I expect to see your completed designs this coming Friday, no later. I assume you know the way out.”
I didn’t have a chance to say anything before Logan left the room. I could feel anxiety building within me and knew it would only be a few more moments before I would be in tears in his kitchen. The whole night he had subtly been placing his hand on my lower back as he guided me into the rooms, and he would find some little way to touch me. And every single time he touched me, I felt that familiar ache between my legs, making me wet, and sending my heart into a racing mess to the point where I could barely breathe.