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There's my oatmeal.
The icy air feels like a relief to my sweating skin. I lean against the car, breathing deeply.
Was it something I ate last night...
Or the stress from Logan?
I take a few more deep breaths, trying to steady myself before getting back into the car. The rest of the ride is uneventful, but my stomach is still uneasy.
"You take care, now." The driver sends me off.
"Thank you."
I step out of the car. I can already feel the tension knotting in my stomach at the thought of seeing Logan. Walking into the office, I brace myself to see his gorgeous, irresistible face. But to my surprise, his office is dark, the leather chair empty.
Ahh. That's a relief.
I drop my bag on my desk. When he's not here it's easier to pretend that the world outside doesn't exist, that my problems with Logan didn't exist.
I tell myself I want to move on, to be done with it all. With him. But deep down, I know it's not that simple.
There's a part of me that's still tangled up with Logan Atwood. My emotions enmeshed in him.
After a few more deep breaths, I force myself to start my computer and flip open the file for today's presentation. This new client, a potential investor for our upcoming real estate project, is someone I can't afford to mess up with. My hands shake a little as I go through my notes.
I try to stay focused, grounding myself in the work. I'm halfway through the presentation slides when the door swings open. I glance up.
It's Mr. Atwood.
"Bailey, busy morning?"
"Yes. I'm prepping for my presentation."
"Good. I'll be sitting in on it."
"What?" I blurt out, surprise in my tone.
"I want to see how you handle this new client. It's a big project."
I swallow down the lump in my throat, my palms suddenly sweaty. I force a nod.
"Of course, Mr. Atwood. I appreciate the opportunity."
He nods, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turns, leaving me alone in my office once again. I let out a shaky breath.
Alright, Bailey,I tell myself,relax.
Just like those weird YouTube yoga videos you watched that one night.
Breathe in... hold... and breathe out.
Pretend you're in a forest. Picture the trees, the rustle of the leaves, not the terrifying possibility of screwing up in front of Mr. Atwood...
Goddamn it, Bailey, stop thinking about messing up.
Picture a waterfall! Yeah, that's good... a nice, tranquil waterfall where your only concern is whether you've applied enough sunblock...
Sunblock? Who cares if you're wearing sunblock, Bailey? I do, okay? Sunburns are the worst.
