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“Hold on.” Marti closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath, even while her stomach soured. “You said the column was doing better, that my numbers are at an all-time high, and that people loved Logarti. Is this because you broke off your engagement?”
Blue’s nostrils flared like a snorting bull. “I got to where I am in this business because I know what people want. You’re our most popular digital column, and though physical magazine sales have struggled with the digital age, your articles keep readers coming back. People want something to talk about, but Logarti won’t last. It’ll be dead in the water by New Year’s. What can I say? News travels fast and dies faster,” she said with a rueful smile.
Marti swallowed over the lump in her throat. “But he doesn’t . . . he’s not expecting this.”
“Which is why it will be so effective. Your readers won’t expect it either. You’ve been going strong for weeks now. They’ll be clamoring to know what happened.”
Marti pressed a palm over the stabbing sensation in her chest. She herself had wanted to end things. She told him just last night that she couldn’t fall for him. And she had meant it.
But now, faced with the prospect of losing him . . .
“You—we—can’t just play games with people’s lives like this. It’s not just about me or this column. Logan is involved, too. He’s a real person, with a life and a medical practice. He has a charity to run. I can’t drag his name through the mud.”
What was she saying? This was the plan all along. She knew the rules.
But she didn’t want this to be over. Not yet.
“So come up with something that will put him on neutral ground, some heartbreaking lie. Then a break-up will garner even more publicity for him, and it’s a win-win.”
Except it wasn’t. Because ending things with him felt a whole lot like losing.
“What if I refuse?” Marti squared her shoulders even as everything inside her screamed. She was one step away from a straightjacket. It was crazy to give everything up for a man.
Her arms shook as she held Blue’s gaze, refusing to acknowledge the full extent of Blue’s hold on her.
Slowly, Blue moved closer. She towered over Marti in her heels, making her breath catch. “Don’t make me force your hand.” Her voice hardened. “Understand?”
DON’T MAKE ME FORCE your hand . . .
The words ran in a loop through Marti’s head as she blotted at her face with a damp paper towel in the ladies’ room.
What could Blue possibly have up her sleeve?
Taking a deep breath, Marti steadied her breathing and prepared herself to face Logan. She’d been gone too long already. She needed to hurry.
She exited the bathroom and headed back out onto the heated terrace, into the night. As she weaved through the crowd, she tried to work out what she would tell him. Maybe they could work out this problem together, come up with a plan.
But that meant telling him the whole truth, coming clean about everything. That she, too, had been using him all along.
It served Marti right for manipulating the situation. From the start, Blue insisted she enter this relationship, and now Blue was pulling the puppet strings once again and expected Marti to dance.
Even if I tell Logan the truth now, what good would that do either of us?
Marti side-stepped a group of people, searching for his familiar profile in the crowd until she was struck by the sight of him. The moon above highlighted the masculine curve of his jaw. His hair was rumpled from running his hands through it, and when he glanced at his watch, her heart lurched. He was waiting on her. Always waiting on her . . .
It didn’t seem fair.
A sharp pain lanced her side as a raw dose of reality struck her. She knew what she needed to do.
It was the only option.
Because whatever Blue had in mind if Marti didn’t comply couldn’t be good. And she wouldn’t let her hurt him. She cared about him too much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LOGAN
“THERE YOU ARE. I THOUGHT maybe you’d left.” Logan took a sip of champagne, trying to look indifferent when inside he wanted to rage—to smash everything around him to bits.
