‘Sally’s a fan of Brahms,’ Logan said.
‘Are you really, dear?’
His grandmother’s instant pleasure made Sally squirm. She wasn’t at all sure that liking one piece of music by a particular composer elevated her to fandom.
‘I…I don’t know very much about classical music.’
‘That doesn’t matter. Logan will teach you,’ Hattie pronounced with blithe confidence. ‘It’s a fair exchange, isn’t it? My grandson can teach you about music and you can teach him to dance.’
‘That was unfair,’ Sally remarked as Logan drove back into the city, late for their dinner engagement because she and Hattie had spent such a long time chatting. ‘You should have warned me that the roses were for your sweet little grandmother.’
In the glare of the oncoming headlights, Logan saw her indignant frown and braced himself for the attack he knew he deserved.
‘Why have you let everyone in the office think the roses were for your lovers?’
‘Is that what everyone thinks?’
‘Most,’ Sally amended hotly.
‘I’m afraid they overestimate me, Sally. I’m not given to daft romantic gestures. The women I date never expect anything like that.’
Sally opened her mouth. Shut it again, then frowned. Unhappily, she said, ‘But you let the rumour spread.’
‘Look, Sally, for a start, a boss shouldn’t get involved in office gossip.’ He chanced a smile. ‘Secondly, why spoil a good story with the truth? More importantly, Hattie is family. She’s none of Blackcorp’s business.’
‘So why did you take me to see her?’
It was a very fair question. Logan wished he could offer a definitive answer. His decision had felt instinctive, but he’d never been an intuitive type, so taking Sally to visit his grandmother on a whim had been completely out of character.
Almost everything he’d done since he met Sally was out of character. He would have to rectify that. Very soon. But right now he could think of no plausible explanation to offer her except the simple truth. ‘I knew you two would get on well.’
Sally considered this and said after a bit, ‘OK, maybe you were right about us hitting it off. Hattie’s an absolute darling. But if you’ve never taken any of your…um…female friends to see her before, aren’t you worried that she might read deeper significance into my visit?’
With the twenty-twenty vision of hindsight, Logan had to agree. He’d taken one look at Hattie’s animated delight and he’d known that his impulse to bring Sally was foolish. But their dancing class had cast some kind of spell on him and the impulsive invitation had made perfect sense at the time.
Later, he’d been attacked by doubts, but then he’d applied logic and had come up with the same answer. Sally Finch got on well with everyone. With her gift for making friends, she would brighten his grandmother’s life and give the poor old girl the lift she needed.
It wasn’t much fun for an intelligent, lively woman who’d had a passion for life and a brilliant artistic career to end up in a nursing home. But Hattie couldn’t live alone any more and she couldn’t stay with Logan’s parents. She’d never got on with his father. And she hadn’t wanted to impose herself on either Logan or Carissa.
Now his parents were travelling around Australia in their caravan—doing the lap of honour, as his mother called it. Carissa was busy with her career and her family and Logan had assumed the responsibility of keeping an eye on Hattie.
Until tonight, he’d always visited her alone. So taking Sally had been something of a risk. Crazy, no doubt.
In the car’s darkened interior, he sent her a repentant smile. ‘You deserve an apology. I’m sorry. My bad joke misfired. I should have explained about Hattie.’
‘I’m just embarrassed that she assumes we’re a couple.’
‘I’ll resolve that confusion next time I see her.’
If Logan expected this to soothe Sally, he was out of luck. With a little huff of annoyance, she crossed her arms and then her legs and sat very stiffly, staring away from him through the passenger window.
The view of her legs, revealed by a short black skirt and encased in sheer tights, became a traffic hazard and he manfully kept his attention on the road.
He had reserved a table at his favourite restaurant, nestled close to the water in a cove of Sydney Harbour. As always, he was greeted like an old friend by Marco, the head waiter, who didn’t mind at all that he and Sally were late. He showed them to their table, set by a huge window.
It was a rare pleasure to watch the delight in Sally’s face when she saw the view of the water and sparkling reflections, the lights of the harbour bridge and the city beyond.