Liz had worked for Julia for years. She might’ve heard her complain and wax poetic about Logan a few dozen times. Or a few hundred. “Oh, um, it’s been fine.” She couldn’t say more, not with Logan in such close proximity.
“You know, if you wanted the press to go away, you could tell them that you’re with Logan,” Liz said. “They’ll run off and speculate about it for at least a day or two. Or they’ll turn it into more of a spectacle. Hard to know, but my gut is they’ll take pictures, write their stories and hound Derek with questions about being heartbroken.”
Julia watched Logan as he chatted up Bryony, who was blushing like crazy. If any man knew how to make a woman feel good about herself, it was Logan. His presence alone—just breathing the same air he did—made a girl feel special. Precisely why it hurt so much when he took it away. “Well, that’s one idea. I’ll think about it. Thanks. You’re the best.”
Julia hung up and took the florist’s business card, texting the address to Liz. “The peonies will be here tomorrow morning. Everything else looks great. Thanks for your help.”
She turned to Logan. He had the funniest look on his face—both bewildered and amused. She loved that expression, although if she were honest, she loved everything about his face—full lips shaping his effortless smile, square chin with a tiny scar obscured by scruff, and eyes so warm and sincere it was hard to imagine him ever doing something hurtful.
“Your sister is really lucky she didn’t put me in charge of this,” he said. “I mean really lucky. Imagine how horrified she’d be if she ended up with ranun...you know. Those flowers.”
Julia granted him a quiet laugh. “Ranunculus. And you know how much I love my sister. I’m just trying to make the mess I made a little better. Now let’s go deal with the cake.”
The throng of reporters outside had grown. Either Julia was losing her patience or they were getting pushier. Logan made sure she got into the car safely, making her truly thankful to have him there. On the way to the bakery, she stole a glimpse of his handsome profile, allowing herself to think about what would’ve happened last night if he’d proposed for real, because he loved her. If he’d never called it off. If the baby was his. They could hold hands, they could stay up late talking for hours, they could make plans. Perhaps that was why she was so dead-set on making everything perfect for her sister. If she couldn’t have the fairy tale, at least her sister could.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the bakery and again had to sprint for the door as reporters shouted at them. They seemed to be at the end of their rope. There was much speculation about the reasons why Julia was running around town with Logan Brandt and not Derek. Not good.
Inside, one of the bakers led them to the work space where all three cakes were being decorated—one for the rehearsal dinner, the groom’s cake and of course, the grand, three-tiered wedding cake. Julia took pictures with her phone and sent them to her sister. She got a quick response that, to Julia’s great relief, everything except one of the shades of pink frosting passed muster. After straightening that out, and double-checking the delivery times and addresses, she crossed the bakery visit off the list.
She and Logan stood at the bakery window. The reporters were waiting, clogging the sidewalk out front. Logan was finishing a cookie he’d talked out of the girl working behind the counter.
“What happened to ‘the camera adds ten pounds’?” Julia asked as he wiped crumbs from the corner of his mouth.
“I will always relax the rules for a chocolate chip cookie. It’s my one weakness.” He cleared his throat. “Well, that, and my desire to pop one of these reporters in the mouth.”
“I don’t even want to go out there.” Julia hitched her purse up onto her shoulder.
He rolled his neck to the side as if working out a kink. “I don’t know if I can take an entire weekend of this. I’m tempted to just tell them I’m your boyfriend to get them to go away.”
Exactly what Liz suggested. “It might work,” Julia muttered. Of course then she’d have to live with the story. And the myriad ways in which her sister would pitch a conniption. “I’d say we could go out through the alley, but we’re still going to have to walk right past them to get to the car.”
He took her hand. “It’ll be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen.” He opened the door and out they went, back into the belly of the beast.
* * *
They narrowly escaped the reporters outside the bakery unscathed. One of them, a brutish man with a camera lens so long that Logan wondered whether he was compensating for some shortcoming, had become particularly curt with his questions. It was clear he just wanted an answer. And Logan was inclined to agree, only because he himself had reached the boiling point.
Now they were being followed in the car again. “Maybe it’s better if you just say something, Jules. The only thing you seem to be accomplishing is frustrating them.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to say it. You know me. Give me a script and I can deal with it. In front of cameras, with unfriendly faces barking at me, I get panicky. The next thing you know I’m tripping over my words and accidentally telling the press I’m pregnant. And I’ll have to spill the beans then. I’m a terrible liar.”
“That’s probably an argument for just telling your parents about the baby before you mess up and the secret comes out.”
“No way. As long as you keep your end of the bargain and keep your mouth shut, it’ll be fine.”
“Personally, I don’t think it’s a risk worth taking. Just tell them. Then you can relax and enjoy the wedding.”
Julia directed a piercing glare at him. “That’s the most harebrained thing you’ve ever said. My plan is not only the best plan, it’s the only plan. My baby. My plan.”
Her plan. Jules was doing what she always did—putting her head down, forging ahead and ignoring what everyone else said. Like a beautiful steamroller. She was far better at handing out advice than taking it, which would make it impossible to change her mind. “And what exactly is the rest of your plan? What are you going to say to your parents about the baby’s father?”
“I’m going to have to tell them the truth. You might be the dad. And you might not.”
Hearing her say that didn’t sting any less today than it had last night. “Have you taken the time to think about how they’re going to react? Because there could be a lot of fallout, and I’m sorry, but most of that is going to fall on me.”
“You have to make everything about you, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t. I’m just thinking this through to its logical conclusion. Do you remember what your dad asked me the night I took you to senior prom?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just answer the question. Do you remember what he said?”
She reached into her bag, pulled out a lip balm and rolled it across her lips. Logan was thankful he was driving and only caught a glimpse of what she was doing. He had a soft spot for her mouth, especially for the things it could do to him.
“My dad asked you what your intentions were with his daughter. Doesn’t every dad ask that?”
“Maybe in old movies, they do. My point is that your dad is an old-fashioned guy. And that’s part of what I love about him. He’s going to want to know if I’m accepting my responsibility. And I told you I’m willing to do that.”
“Logan. You dumped me three months ago.” She turned sideways in her seat and confronted him. “Dumped me.”
He didn’t want to feel remorseful about ending things with Julia, but he was starting to. Even though he was also certain that they wouldn’t