Between You and Me(14)

"Nope. Always wanted to, but never been."

"Oh, you really should. It's amazing. You should go." She crossed her  legs and smoothed out her top. "If you ever do, you have to let me know.  I'll show you around."

His brows lifted at that. "Would you, now."

"Yes, of course I would. And you'd love it." She smiled back. "That's an open, standing invitation."

His slow grin was so sexy it made her toes curl. He finally nodded and said, "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

She ignored the way her skin heated as he eased back into his section of  the love seat. His movements were fluid, utterly masculine. And he was  sitting close enough for her to know he smelled good. Not bathed in  cologne, but clean and woodsy . . . She made herself talk. "I didn't  grow up in New York City, by the way. Grew up on Long Island, like I  said. That's the suburbs."

He scoffed at that. "You don't strike me as the suburbia-girl type. You're a city girl through and through."

Grinning slightly, she admitted, "Well . . . my suburb wasn't like most  suburbs, that's true. Kingston Point is very affluent. My family goes  back generations there, I went to private schools, all of that. I  traveled, and I did things that most small-town suburban kids don't get  to experience." She shifted, recrossing her legs, grateful for the easy  comfort of her black leggings and knee-high black Uggs. "But I have a  feeling you kind of knew that, didn't you?"

"I looked up the Harrisons when you became my clients, I won't lie."  Logan shrugged. "But I didn't really know where you grew up, just how  you likely grew up."

Tess folded her hands on her lap and leaned back. "Different than most."

"I'm sure."

"But with problems and difficulties like most everyone else, Logan. I've had hard times."

He sighed. Yes, it must have been very hard to never worry about all that money.

She caught it and frowned at him. "What?"

He shook his head, tamping down his thought.

"Just say it."

"I didn't take you as one to do the ‘poor little rich girl' thing," he said quietly. "That's all."

Her eyes flew wide. "I wasn't."

"Kind of sounded like it." He drew another heavy breath. "Tess, you've  never had to worry about money, or security, in your whole life. Your  ‘hard times' are likely not as hard as most people's hard times. You get  that, right?"

Her cheeks flamed. "Of course I get that. I'm not that out of touch with  reality. When I say I've had hard times, I've had losses. And while  I've known financial security, I've never had much in the way of  emotional security. My parents' ugly divorce, and my mother leaving us,  were stellar examples of how wealth can make bad things a million times  worse." She focused on him as the song changed from a slow, twangy  groove to a more up-tempo one. She'd always liked Stevie Ray Vaughan,  and his "Couldn't Stand the Weather" made her want to shimmy in her  seat, even as her stomach churned. Whether or not he'd meant to slight  her, she felt slighted. "Should I leave?"

"What? No! Tess . . ." Logan met her gaze and leaned her way. "I wasn't trying to smack you down. It just, at first, sounded-"

"I get how it may have sounded, but it's certainly not how I intended it  to sound." She huffed out a sigh, brows drawn as she frowned hard. "Am I  naïve to think you'll ever separate who I am from where I come from and  what I have? I was born into a very wealthy family. I had no control  over that, and I don't have to apologize for it."

"And I'm not asking you to."

"It seems to keep coming up."                       
       
           



       

"Do you think I asked you out tonight because of how rich you are?"

"No, of course not. If I thought that, I never would have accepted." She  moved a stray curl back from her eyes. "But I think you do make  assumptions about me because of it, and you either don't even realize it  or just won't admit it."

His eyes narrowed as he considered that. She found herself holding her breath.

She didn't want to argue, but goddammit, why did their conversations  seem to circle back to a theme: his assumptions about who she was? It  was more than frustrating, it was starting to wear on her.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought, and her eyes traveled over  him. His broad shoulders and strong biceps were easily visible,  outlined against his snug, pale blue Henley. The jeans he wore weren't  ripped or dirty, but well broken in. Brown hiking boots were obviously  his idea of casual footwear. Such simple tastes in how he dressed . . .  the plain clothes belied the complicated man. There was so much going on  behind his eyes. She could almost feel the gears working in his mind as  he gazed at her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he said, "Look, yeah, I know about  your family. I told you, I looked you guys up when you became my  clients. I do that for all my clients. So I know how mind-bendingly rich  and connected the Harrisons are. But give me enough credit to be able  to separate that lifestyle from who you are." His large shoulders lifted  in a lazy roll, but his gaze didn't waver. "I know you run a big  company in Manhattan. That you work, you make your own way. You're not  like one of those . . . what I mean is . . ." He sighed, rubbing at his  beard the way he did when he was trying to figure out what to say. She'd  seen that gesture more over the past few days than ever before.

"I know enough to know that while you, of course, are an individual,  your world is nothing like mine," Logan said. "I've known enough people  like you who come to Aspen-and worked in their homes-to know that  firsthand. So yeah, you want to talk about how we grew up? Okay. But no,  I can't really relate. I'm trying. I'm sorry if that came across as  being judgmental, yet again. Wasn't my intention." He huffed out a  breath and his pale green eyes flashed with something like remorse. "I'm  not great with communication. Typical guy, I guess. I say the wrong  things. I'm either too blunt, or not enough. I'm much better with  actions than words."

Now she was the one who paused to formulate a proper response. His had  been earnest, and illuminating. He made good points. They were from  different worlds. Aspen was a playground for the rich and famous, and he  worked for them. Of course he had a very different view of her social  circles. That made sense. And as for him admitting he wasn't a great  communicator, well, that alone made him a more decent one than he  realized.

She decided to change tactics. "I appreciate your candor. It's  refreshing, actually. Thank you for that." She smiled. "So. How about  taking an action and getting me a hot chocolate?"

He blinked, then laughed. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Her smile widened. "I get the feeling you are too, Mr. Carter."

His heavy brows lifted as he chuckled wryly. "I don't know about that.  My life is pretty tame, and these days, so am I." He rose to his feet.  "You want whipped cream on that hot chocolate, Miss Harrison?"

"Oh, always."

* * *

An hour later, Logan leaned back against the soft cushions as Tess told  him more about her career. He'd asked her about it, truly interested to  hear about it from her instead of just reading about her online. She'd  gone to NYU and majored in art history because she loved it, but minored  in business administration so she'd be able to contribute somehow to  her family's company, as she knew she was expected to do. For a few  years, she painted and traveled and worked at Harrison Enterprises under  her father's watchful eye. But when her great aunt had decided she  didn't want to run the Harrison Foundation anymore, it was the perfect  opening for Tess. She'd taken the reins at the company at only  twenty-eight, and had improved its standing tenfold. She was proud of  what she'd accomplished and didn't plan to let up anytime soon.                       
       
           



       

Logan admired that she wasn't bragging about her success-and he knew she  was more than entitled to if she wanted. Because he'd read more about  her online just last night. When he got home after work, he'd done a  little digging, hoping to learn more about this woman who fascinated  him. This time, it was all about wanting to know more about her.

The Harrison family was a big deal in those circles, and Tess Harrison  was kind of a social darling. No one had a bad word to say about her.  Every piece on her was more flattering than the one before.

As for her making her own mark beyond the family's reputation, the  Harrison Foundation Holiday Ball was one of the biggest annual social  events in Manhattan society, and Tess was the powerhouse behind it. This  year's ball, only two weeks ago, had raised millions more for their  affiliated charities than ever before. She'd done that. She'd both made  her family's legacy continue to shine and forged her own in the process.  As far as he was concerned, based on that alone, Tess Harrison was a  force to be reckoned with. He absolutely respected and admired her.