“I can’t get it any higher, and it’s already on the bench.”
He rests the cold pack of ice over my ankle, and I grimace from the chill and initial contact. That other bag had turned to warm water a couple of hours ago.
“Enjoy your dinner,” Logan says.
“Dad, wait! You’re already here.”
His jaw is firm and tight.
“Please,” I say, gesturing for him to sit across from me and next to his daughter, since my leg is taking up the rest of the booth.
He sighs and relents, joining us at the table. “I have a lot of work to do, young lady,” he says, glaring at Jules.
She smiles and sits up, shoulders back like she’s proud of her accomplishment.
I open my mouth but then shut it. I need to be careful how I tread. When I was inviting Jules to intern, I didn’t realize her father was the resort’s owner.
From what I know about Logan Henderson, he’s a billionaire. It’s considerably new money, and he’s single. Although the last one I’m guessing, based on him not wearing a wedding band.
I can’t assume anything. He could be getting it resized.
Jules hasn’t mentioned her mother, and now isn’t the time to ask.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I say, staring at Logan, hoping we can move past the awkwardness.
A waitress comes over, bringing three water glasses along with silverware and menus.
Logan reaches for his glass and takes a sip, his eyes never leaving mine. “Go on,” he says.
I wasn’t planning on elaborating, but if he wants a huge apology, I’ll suck it up and give it to him to stroke his ego. Although that’s not the only thing I’d like to stroke.
I bite my bottom lip, trying to tame the wayward thoughts.
He has a teenage daughter. For all I know, he could be happily married. Although his wife certainly didn’t come down for dinner.
Interesting.
Maybe heissingle.
Logan raises an eyebrow when I don’t say anything. “You were saying,” he urges me to continue my apology.
Bastard.
I almost don’t want to continue apologizing, because if he needs his ego stroked, then what kind of a man is he?
“I was saying that I’m sorry for over-speaking earlier. Sometimes I let my mouth run in front of my head.”
Jules chuckles. “I like her, Dad.”
“Yeah, you would,” he mutters.
I exhale a hearty sigh. I didn’t invite him to dinner to fight with him. Technically, I didn’t askhimto dinner. I invited Jules’ father. I just didn’t realize they were the same person.
Yikes. Awkward. I’d be better off throwing myself down the ski slopes without equipment. Let my ankle take one for the team. Well, maybe my entire body.
“Anyways,” I say, trying to change the subject, “your daughter was telling me she’s interested in what I do for a living.”
Logan sips his water again, and as he puts it down on the table, his eyes tighten. “I wouldn’t constitute what you do as a career choice. Tell my daughter that it’s not a way to make a living, that you live paycheck to paycheck, and there are better opportunities out there.”