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“He. At first, the idiot behaved like a jerk just because I’m a woman. Then, he made me fall in love with him. And when I was completely head over heels gone, what did the prick do?”
The bartender shrugs in a no-idea way.
“He went and asked for my phone number… to keep in touch! Bah! What does that even mean? What do you think he meant?”
“Err… I need more information to make a proper assessment. Like, how did he go from being a jerk to making you fall for him?”
And before I know it, I’m telling this guy the whole story. From my first encounter with naked Logan, to the expedition in the jungle, the lost city, Smith and his rogue mercenaries, our escape, up until our wretched farewell at Bangkok airport yesterday.
When I finally shut up, the bartender lets out a low whistle. “Whoa, that’s quite a story. In my job, I hear many tales… but this adventure… wow!”
Did I overshare? Maybe I overshared. But when I’m nervous, I talk. When I’m tired, I talk. When I’m both, I crash into TMI land like a cannonball.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’ve unloaded my life story on you and haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Winter Knowles.”
“Mark Cooper,” he says, and offers me his hand to shake.
Another customer sits a few stools away from me, and Mark goes to serve him before he comes back to me and begins unloading the bar dishwasher.
Eager to hear a second opinion, I ask, “So, what do you think Logan meant by asking for my number?”
“Honey, I really can’t tell you if he’s in love with you or not. But running away probably wasn’t the best way to find out.”
“I know, right?” I bite my lower lip. “But I had a plane to catch, and he just made me so mad.”
“Or…” Mark stops sorting dishes and looks me straight in the eye. “You were afraid of the answer and preferred to bail before you found out.”
“Oh, gosh.” I cover my face with my hands and, peeking between my fingers, I say, “You might be right. So what do I do now?”
Mark gives me a warm smile. “You go home, get some rest, and then go get the man! He’s coming back to the States, too, right?”
“Mm-hm. But shouldn’t I wait for him to come to me?”
With a mock-serious raised brow, Mark asks, “Are you really into all that men-should-make-the-first-move crap?”
“No,” I admit. “Not really.”
“Then we have a plan!”
“You’re right, thank you. Even if Logan says he doesn’t want to be with me, I need to know either way.”
“All passengers. Flight AA 171, with direct service to Los Angeles LAX, is beginning to board at gate 46. We’re going to start boarding families with small kids and passengers with special needs. Then, we’re going to board first and business-class passengers. And finally, all other passengers…”
“Oh, that’s my flight!” I say, getting up. “How much do I owe you?”
Mark hands me the bill and takes my credit card. “You need your receipt?”
“No, thanks,” I say. “Just a bit of luck.”
Mark winks at me. “This Logan guy would be an idiot to let you go.”
I nod, ready to head to my gate. “I agree with you. Let’s hope he does, too.”
22
LOGAN
Idiot. Jerk. Fool. Moron. Stupid. Imbecile. Heedless baboon…
