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It feels like a personal betrayal.
12
LOGAN
Stepping out of the shower, I towel off, the adrenaline from yesterday's pitch still running through my veins. The Vanderbilts' impressed faces, the acknowledgment of my fucking hard work. I grin at my reflection in the mirror.
"You're a fucking stud, man." I hype myself up. "You pulled it off."
That will show them.
My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, an email notification popping up on the screen. I swipe the screen and my grin widens.
Another high-profile client wants to work with me.
Damn, am I good?
I didn't expect the reactions to roll in so fast.
But immediately after the pitch was over yesterday, Marshall Greene, a titan in the real estate industry, offered me another project. He was there, not to listen to pitches, but as a consultant for the Vanderbilts on their expansion strategy.
Apparently, I did more than impress the Vanderbilts. Greene was drawn in by my pitch too. He offered me praise and a project. A big one, from the looks of it.
“I’m impressed by your innovative approach and refreshing ideas,” he had said.
Of course, I accepted his offer. This was exactly what I wanted, a chance to prove myself beyond the Atwood name.
I tap the reply button and type a quick response to accept yet another massive offer on a project for a luxury hotel chain. I can almost feel the power, the respect that this project will bring.
I move towards my closet, pulling out a crisp white shirt and a tailored charcoal suit. It's Armani. Perfect for the way I feel right now. I grab my briefcase and head out. Today feels good, really good.
* * *
I walkinto the office and see Bailey at her desk already working.
"Good morning, sunshine."
She rolls her eyes. "Good morning, sunshine?" She spits the words back at me. "The only thing that could have made this morning 'good' would have been not seeing your face."
Damn. Those are fighting words.
Is she pissed at life like usual or is this a fiery aftermath of us having sex in the closet? I can't tell.
I lean against her desk, trying to lighten the mood with a playful smirk. "Feisty this morning, huh? I have to admit, I find it..." I try to add my usual flirty banter, but she cuts me off.
"Save your fucking charm, Logan. It's wasted on me." Her words are daggers.
What the hell did I do?
Man, women are confusing.
I shrug, pushing myself off her desk, and make for the door. As I'm about to escape her icy glare, my dad walks in
"Ah, Bailey, I was looking for you," he begins, but I interrupt him. I've been meaning to tell him how well the pitch went yesterday.
"Dad, the project pitch yesterday went amazing. Did you hear?"
Bailey's head snaps to me, her eyes wide.
