In fact, she had too much to say. I thought you might not be very happy.
Her comments still nagged at him.
How could he not be happy? His life was at the exact place he wanted it to be. His business plan was on target, he had an enviable apartment with position, position, position. Women—beautiful, intelligent women—found him attractive. He was perfectly happy.
Today he’d told Sally that she reminded him of his sister and he had been dead right. Carissa had said something equally annoying last week when he’d dropped off the boys. She’d tried to lecture him about the women he dated, tried to suggest that he was deliberately choosing women who were career driven. Women who weren’t looking for marriage and children.
That was true. So what?
It was an important part of his five-year plan. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by the kind of romance his sister wanted for him. Surely she understood his perennial fear? If he took his eye off the ball, he’d make a fatal error of judgement, a bad gamble like his father’s, and everything he’d tried so hard to achieve would collapse around him.
But when he’d tried to explain that to Carissa, she’d said: I’d hate to see you take a gamble with your happiness.
What was it with these women? Why did they think they had a special gift of second sight that could detect happiness at twenty paces? How could Sally Finch or his sister know anything about his state of mind, his personal level of contentment?
Before Logan could get his head around this quandary, the telephone in the kitchen rang and, with an irritated sigh, he turned the music down and went to answer it.
‘Hi, Logan, it’s Carissa.’
Speak of the devil.
‘I know you’re probably terribly busy, so I won’t beat about the bush. I’m ringing to ask a big favour.’
For Sally, it was business as usual at work the next morning. People who’d been at the team-building workshop smiled and greeted her. Maeve was bubbling with happiness—last night’s date had been sensational.
Logan gave Sally a brief nod as he hurried past with his phone glued to his ear and then, midmorning, he completely ignored her as he hurried out again, deep in conversation with a consulting engineer. They didn’t return for the rest of the day.
Sally, working hard at being sensible, decided she was pleased. Life was much easier when Logan Black didn’t talk to her, didn’t smile at her.
At five, she was getting ready to leave when Kim told her that some scaffolding, provided by Blackcorp, had collapsed in a big mine in Western Australia. Three men had been injured and the boss and his engineer had flown over to Perth to investigate what had gone wrong and to ensure that the injured men received the very best medical attention.
‘But cheer up,’ Kim said when she saw Sally’s long face. ‘It’s not your problem and the boss is a genius at handling this kind of drama.’
‘I’m sure he is.’ Sally picked up her handbag, slung its strap across her shoulder. ‘Actually, I think I might cheer myself up by going to see a film tonight. I need a bit of escapism.’
‘I have nothing special on,’ Kim said. ‘Would you like company?’
Sally grinned at her. ‘I’d love it.’
The boss was still away on Friday when the white roses arrived. Sally thought their ivory petals were even more perfect and fragrant than last week’s blooms and, in the privacy of the lift, she buried her face in them before she delivered them to Maria Paige on the next floor.
Maria was busy on the phone so Sally put the flowers in the vase, which was once again ready and waiting. She wondered what would happen to them. Would Maria arrange for their delivery to Logan Black’s lover? Would she take them home to her house? Or would they sit here, unappreciated, in this empty office for the entire weekend?
Maria remained busy so Sally left quietly, none the wiser.
Determined to use the weekend to distance herself from a certain person at work, Sally was rather pleased to see Anna and Steve that evening, even though they were only calling to drop off the children.
‘Oliver’s inhaler is in the bag with Rose’s nappies,’ said Anna, looking unusually pink-cheeked and pretty in a grey silk dress and pearls. ‘He only needs it if he starts to wheeze. Two puffs should do the trick.’
Steve, whose bearlike size was accentuated by a scruffy blond beard, gave his sister a rough hug. ‘Great to see you, little Sal. How are you handling the big smoke?’
‘I’ve got it licked.’ Sally grinned extra-brightly to stifle any urge of Steve’s to interrogate her endlessly. He had come to her rescue that night at the dance and she needed to curb his fiercely protective instincts.