His Fantasy Girl (Things To Do Before You Die)(5)

By: Nina Croft



“I take it this one is a no,” Jerry said, interrupting his thoughts. “Pity. I like her. Looks like a nice girl.”

Logan snorted, watching as Jerry got to his feet and crossed the room. He spoke quietly with the woman, who flashed Logan a look of abject disappointment, as though he’d broken her heart or something. She picked up her top, clutching it to her bosom, and spoke again. Jerry flashed him a look of amusement but nodded and helped the woman down from the stage. She tottered over to Logan, hovered in front of him. Actually, she did look like a nice girl; there was a hint of sweetness beneath the heavy makeup.

Across the room, the door opened and a woman slipped inside. Logan glanced over and did a double take. Abigail Parker. He almost laughed out loud, and suddenly he had an urge to high five.

Not cool.

Still, he couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

The nearly-naked dancer must have thought the smile was for her. She took a step closer. “I thought we might go for a drink,” she said, halting in front of him.

“Sorry, sweetheart, no can do.” She’d probably heard he was a sure thing. And maybe once he would have been.

He peered past her to make sure Abigail was still there. She stood inside the door, looking around as if unsure of her next move.

The dancer shuffled her feet. “I really need this job. I have a baby and a dog and…”

There was a hint of desperation in her voice and he glanced back at her. He hated that. He looked from her to Jerry, who shrugged. “Okay,” Logan muttered. “Take her on. But a week’s trial only.”

“Oh, thank you.” She leaned down, dropped the top and kissed him on the lips, squashing her breasts against him. Nope, still no reaction from his dick. He glanced over her shoulder to where Abigail stood. She’d finally spotted him, and an expression of… He couldn’t really define it. Pained horror, maybe, was stamped on her face. She caught him watching her and the expression was wiped clean. Then her tongue came out, swiping across her lips in a nervous gesture, and he felt a definite twitch.

And there was that urge to high five again.

He’d almost forgotten the nearly-naked woman clinging to him, but was grateful when Jerry took pity on him and tugged her free. “Go get dressed and I’ll go through the terms and conditions of the job.”

She smiled and hurried away.

Jerry crossed the room and flicked on the main lights. In the sudden brightness, Logan got his first good look at Abigail, a complete contrast from the dancer.

While she held herself with a certain confidence, as though used to difficult situations, there was an uneasiness in her face, a little line between her eyes. But she was here. That was all that mattered. Logan relaxed in his seat, put his feet back on the chair opposite, took a sip of scotch, and studied her some more.

“You want me to deal with her?” Jerry nodded in Abigail’s direction.

“No, you go sort out our new dancer.” He gave Jerry a sharp look. “Did you tell her to try the ‘I’m desperate’ and the puppy dog look?”

“I might have mentioned you’re a sucker for a sob story. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure she fits in.”

Logan shook his head. But Jerry was good at his job, so he put it from his mind and turned his attention back to more important matters.

When Abigail saw he was alone, she straightened her shoulders and headed his way. Logan took another sip of scotch and watched her lazily. She looked out of place. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing the same gray skirt from yesterday, topped with a black sweater this time. Her dark hair was pulled into the same bun thing at the back of her head, showing off the perfect heart-shaped face, large blue eyes, and wide mouth he remembered. He had a sudden image of her on her knees in that immaculate outfit, her mouth wrapped around his dick, and he shifted in his seat.

Yes, everything was definitely in working order.

She came to a standstill in front of him, her gaze sliding over him, lingering on the tattoos that snaked down his arm, revealed by the short-sleeved T-shirt. Something flickered in her eyes. No doubt she was confirming her judgments of yesterday. But it didn’t matter, she was here.

Her gaze darted away then back, and she blinked a couple of times, shook her head, swallowed… He almost grinned and was about to put her out of her misery and offer her a drink, tell her he was really pleased to see her, when she spoke. “Mr. McCabe?”

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