Logan West pretended to listen to the blonde woman who stood in front of him, a garment bag hanging from her arm as she droned on about the latest episode of some television show. He nodded, though he had no idea what she was talking about. He hadn’t watched anything but the news and sports since he graduated from college. Was this what women wanted in a man? Someone who wasted hours watching the latest drama or comedy series? He’d gotten so out of touch with his generation. For that matter, he was out of touch with every generation…at least in person.
The woman stared at him, her perfectly drawn eyebrows arched high on her forehead. Had she asked him a question?
“I’m sorry.” Logan considered whether he could possibly tolerate one of the previous candidates. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
Her face scrunched, creasing her thick makeup. “Wait! Don’t you even want to see my dress? Josiah said one of us would be picked based on the dress we brought to wear to the wedding. You haven’t even looked at mine.”
He suppressed a sigh. As she was wearing four-inch platform heels and the shortest dress he’d ever seen, he had little hope for her interpretation of his request to bring a “sophisticated” evening gown.
“Yes, of course. Let me see it.” He took the bag from her, not bothering to step away from the front entryway where he’d conducted their five-minute interview. With one hand holding the hanger, he struggled with the zipper.
“I’ll show you.” Wriggling with excitement, she unzipped the bag. “It’s a Marie Mendez.”
Logan wasn’t familiar with dress designers, but a quick glance revealed a high slit on the long skirt. His ultra conservative mother would have a cow if his date wore something that scandalous.
“Thanks for coming.” He handed her the garment bag and herded her toward the door. “I won’t be needing your services, but you’ll get the five hundred dollars as compensation for reserving the weekend.”
“If you don’t like this dress, I have two others in the car.”
No doubt she had her eye on the ten thousand dollars she would’ve received if she’d been chosen.
“It’s not the dress…you’re simply not my type.” He opened the door and swept his hand toward it. “I’m sorry.”
“You know what?” Her smile disappeared, her face hardening. “It wouldn’t have been worth ten thousand to spend an entire weekend with you. You’re the rudest man I’ve ever met!” She flounced out, her garment bag whacking against his leg.
He shut the door and leaned against it, rubbing his temples to soothe his throbbing head.
Had he been rude? Probably. He’d spent so little time around people the last five years, he’d forgotten how to act. He’d shut himself away from the world, building his online empire. With many of his clients overseas, he’d even altered his sleep and working hours, sometimes going weeks without seeing the sunlight. He’d jokingly begun to refer to himself as a vampire.
As a vampire or a hermit or whatever he’d become, he’d had no opportunity to meet a woman he could take to the wedding. But Josiah, who’d stuck with him through it all, ran a modeling agency and often arranged for his clients to attend events as escorts in order to see and be seen.
“Just say the word and you’ll have a gorgeous date for the wedding,” Josiah had said. “It’ll cost you ten thousand dollars if she has to be gone the whole weekend to Houston, but that’s a drop in the bucket for you.”
Choosing a date from one of Josiah’s models had been a reasonable and smart solution. Putting it off until the day he was supposed to leave had not. Josiah’s top models had already been booked in a fashion show.
“This is my busy season,” Josiah had said when Logan had called in a panic early that morning. “Let me see…I’ve only got five suitable models who don’t already have a gig this weekend. I’ll contact them now if you’re willing to come up here this afternoon and see if you click with one of them.”
Logan’s breakfast threatened to reappear. “There are too many people in your building. I can’t handle the crowd. Why don’t you send all five to my house? I’ll pay them five hundred dollars each, just for coming.”
“Logan…” Josiah’s voice had been filled with genuine concern. “If you can’t even come up to my office, how are you going to handle going to that wedding? Maybe you should call and cancel.”
“Believe me, it’s tempting. But Mom is determined to go, and I don’t want her to face my stepfather by herself. I have to go.”
“Then just go with your mother. You don’t need a date. It’ll be that much more stressful to have some woman you don’t know tagging along.”
“I can’t show up with Mom. I’d look pathetic. Allegra might think I couldn’t find a date.”
“Which happens to be true.”
“Josiah, you have to help me.”
“I’ll give you some advice. Shave your face.”
“I shave,” Logan had defended. “Every Tuesday.”
“I hope you shower more often.”
“Hey! I shower every day.”
“Good for you. So buy yourself a new razor—one that works every day of the week—and shave tomorrow morning before the wedding. And get a haircut so you don’t look like you’ve been hiding in a cave for a year.”
“I’m not changing my appearance. Not even to impress Allegra.” Logan had smoothed his messy locks.
“You’re no Samson. It won’t hurt you to cut your hair, Logan.”
“Forget that.” Logan had shifted the conversation back to important matters. “Will you send the models over?”
“They’ll probably be willing to drive out there for five hundred bucks. But only if I vouch for you. So try not to be weird.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Hey! It was your idea for me to take one of your models to the wedding.”
“That was when I thought you’d made progress with your therapist about your fear of crowds or people or whatever your phobia is. Three weeks ago, you told me she’d released you from counseling.”
“She did release me. She had to, because I quit going.”
