Chapter Three
Logan drove to Manhattan early Monday morning to surprise Sabrina by showing up for her big talk-show debut. If he’d told her ahead of time he’d be there, she would’ve put on a brave face and said she was just fine. But he’d seen the real fear in her eyes and, as soon as he found out from Mad that Sabrina was going alone, it was a no-brainer. Sabrina was like a porcelain doll—beautiful, perfect, delicate. Untouchable. Her dark blond hair was smooth and straight, never mussed or out of place, and she had these big innocent-looking brown eyes with round cheeks prone to blushing, and a sweet smile. Her body was trim and curvy, wrapped in perfectly tailored professional clothes.
Not that he was a complete Neanderthal, but he needed someone that could challenge him, a little more give-and-take. He could easily walk all over Sabrina with her sweet accommodating ways. And, for sure, if Sabrina was rattled, a talk-show host could walk all over her too. If his standing backstage during her big interview could give back even a little of the support she’d given him, well, it was the least he could do. His sister-in-law Claire had gotten him on the VIP list so he could stand in Sabrina’s line of vision, off camera, letting her know a friend was there for her.
Sabrina didn’t know how much her quiet listening and support had helped him through some tough spots. Like last summer when his business partner, Ben, had been falsely accused of sexual harassment. Logan had been hurting for his friend and worried about their company when the news leaked out through business channels. Sabrina had encouraged him to ignore the whispers and let Ben know he believed in him. They’d weathered that storm.
Then later when Ben had been a bear to work with and Logan couldn’t figure out why, Sabrina was the one who’d zeroed in on the cause of Ben’s misery—Missy—and suggested Logan let her go a little early from her work contract so Missy and Ben could get together without professional boundaries holding them back. Now they were engaged. Sabrina was smart like that. Too modest for her own good, but, in his opinion, she was the relationship expert.
Damn traffic. It had been smooth sailing all the way into the city. He inched his way through the last few blocks to the Sunshine America studio, hoping it cleared up fast. He was excited for Sabrina and what this could mean for her career. Sabrina’s believing in him had really helped his own career. When he, the tech guy, had to take the lead on the investor meetings due to Ben’s damaged rep from that lying former employee, Sabrina had offered unwavering support, listening to him go on and on about his presentation and then confirming he was on the right track. Ben liked to razz him about Sabrina, calling her Logan’s sweetheart, which was part of the problem with Sabrina. She was too sweet; she even smelled sweet like honey and flowers.
Though she’d surprised him during their lunch on Friday, raising her voice for the first time ever and confessing her family was nuts. He’d always pictured her in a quiet family that went to orchestra concerts or the opera. In any case, she’d never given him any indication that she wanted to be more than friends. She was so reserved and professional. He couldn’t imagine even mussing up her perfect hair. The one and only time she’d touched him had been last week on New Year’s Eve when she’d given him the most awkward hug of his life. Even his most reserved brother, Josh, gave better bro hugs than that. She’d been so careful to keep her distance during their hug she’d actually squeezed his elbow—the most unexciting spot on the human body—and patted his back. When the hug ended, she’d jumped a foot away like she could barely tolerate touching him.
There were other complications. Sabrina was close with his loudmouthed sister, which was why he never got too personal during their talks. He hadn’t told Sabrina about Olivia, even though things were looking very promising for him and Olivia. He’d fallen hard for her his senior year of college and proposed on graduation night. Something he’d kept from his family and friends because she’d turned him down, saying he wasn’t from the right family. Translation: he had no money. She was from a wealthy family, and her inheritance depended on her marrying well, all sorts of stipulations, blah, blah, blah. All he’d heard was you’re not good enough. He’d thrown himself into work, mostly to prove he could be a success and shove it in her face. But that was in the early days. Eventually, he’d really enjoyed work and later building his own business.
Olivia’s rejection didn’t sting as much as it might have because she kept in touch, sending him birthday and holiday cards, occasionally emailing to see how he was doing. Deep down he knew her keeping in touch meant she still cared for him. A couple of months ago, she’d emailed with her usual friendly note, and when he’d told her Checkin was about to take it to the next level, she’d been happy for him. She’d even said she should’ve known he’d be a success and she’d been foolish to turn his proposal down. Now, he wasn’t naïve. He read between the lines that he was more appealing to her now as an established successful businessman than an entry-level employee from a working-class family, but still. There’d been something real between them before, and now that he was at a point in his life where he could reap the rewards of all his hard work, he’d been thinking more about making time for a relationship.
It helped that Olivia had confessed the real reason she’d rejected him was because she’d been too young. She was two years younger than him, only twenty when he’d proposed. He forgave her. She’d been sincere, and it had been her initial rejection, after all, that lit the fire of ambition in him.
He’d flown out to San Francisco six weeks ago to see her over the long Thanksgiving weekend. They’d connected like the fit of an old glove—comfortable and easy. He hadn’t seen her since—she’d flown to the Swiss Alps for Christmas with her family, and he’d wanted to spend Christmas with his own family while sneaking a little work in. But they’d talked and texted a lot. He’d told her if things went well for Checkin, he’d open a San Francisco office so they could be together. She’d been excited about the idea.
He hadn’t told Olivia about Sabrina either, even though they were just friends. Olivia was the jealous type. Besides, if everything worked out like he hoped for Checkin, he’d be moving to San Francisco, and Sabrina would be out of his life. No more lunches, no more deep conversations. His throat tightened, unexpectedly choked up at the thought. He’d miss Sabrina. No one had ever listened to him the way she did. He gave himself a mental shake. Priorities. His life was on the verge of great things.
He reached the studio an excruciatingly long time later and drove past it, looking for a parking garage. He found one a couple of blocks from the studio, left the keys with the valet, and booked it out of there. Her interview was starting in fifteen minutes. He went into the studio building and stopped at the security guard’s desk, giving his name and telling him he was on the list.
The security guard, a tough-looking man with a shaved head and deep lines in his face, looked skeptical. “Driver’s license.”
Logan pulled out his wallet and showed him. “It’s starting soon. I need to get in there.”
“Hold on.” The guy picked up a phone and checked in about Logan. He hung up and turned to him. “Set’s closed. All the seats in the audience are filled.”
“No, I’m with Claire Jordan. I’m supposed to go backstage. She cleared it with the producer.”
He looked around Logan, where there was no Claire Jordan. “Uh-huh.” No one ever believed he knew Claire Jordan. She was just that famous, but she’d married his brother Jake.
“Claire’s my sister-in-law,” he said urgently. “She cleared it. Check with the producer.”
The man eyed him. “What’s the producer’s name?”
He racked his brain. “Cindy. No, Sandy. Sally! She said Sally would help me out.”
The man’s gaze flicked over his shoulder, where another person was approaching the desk. Shit. This guy wasn’t moving fast enough, and Logan was going to miss the whole thing. He pulled out his phone and called Claire. She was going to kill him. It was before five a.m. in California. Voicemail. She must’ve turned her phone off. He called Jake. Voicemail.
The security guard let the other guy in.
Logan gestured to the security phone. “Please call again. Claire got me on the list.”
“Buddy, you’re not on any list.”
“I am!” His gaze darted to the elevator. He debated racing past the guy, but the chances of getting to Sabrina before he was hauled out of the building were slim. He focused on the security guard again. “Check with Sally.”
“There is no Sally.”
“Cindy, then.”
The man stood, bulky with muscle and fully armed. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Logan scrambled for an alternative. He had to let Sabrina know she wasn’t facing this alone. He lifted a hand, signaling the guy to stand down, turned, and left the building, still trying to think of a workaround.
A crowd was gathered at the end of the street near the large picture windows of the studio. All right then, that was how it was going to have to be.
~ ~ ~
Sabrina sat stiffly in the pale yellow cushioned guest chair near the ultra-perky hosts, Becky Simpson and Dell Rowan, sitting in matching chairs. The makeup lady blotted Sabrina’s face with some powder for the second time. No one ever died of stage fright, she reassured herself. The worst that could happen was she’d blurt out every single reason she was a fraud and run out of the place. Live on TV. Gah! No negative self-talk. Be your own cheerleader.
“Try not to sweat so much,” the makeup lady said before heading over to Becky and Dell.
Sabrina took in a shaky breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. The studio audience was filled and noisily excited to be here. A huge crowd outside waved and pointed, peering inside the large picture windows at them. Some people held signs that read I love Dell! There were a lot of signs that read Good Morning, Sunshine! That was the line they used to start every show.
Claire had prepped her last night by phone, but truthfully, it had made Sabrina even more nervous than before. Claire was adamant that Sabrina only answer questions she wanted to, but her suggested “no comment” wasn’t something Sabrina felt comfortable saying. A movie star could get away with that, but a relationship counselor had to come across as warm and open. She wished she were a better actress because then she could play the part she longed to be seen as—a confident, warm, open relationship counselor with a committed relationship and a normal family, who’d never been a jilted bride.
“Five minutes!” someone hollered offstage.
Sabrina gulped.
Becky and Dell hadn’t said anything beyond “good morning” to her and had been busy chatting with the crew and each other. Sabrina supposed she was just another guest to them, but she sure wished there were someone for her to chat with so she could get out of her own head and relax a little.
A woman walked over and checked Sabrina’s microphone clipped to her white cardigan. She wore her favorite purple A-line dress and black heels. She’d put the entire outfit on last night and texted a picture to Claire, who’d approved it both for its professionalism and pop of color. At least she knew she had that going for her.
A young woman wearing a headset put a Sunshine America mug filled with water on the end table next to Sabrina’s chair.
“Thank you,” Sabrina croaked. “I’m parched.”
The young woman took pity on her, leaned close, and whispered, “Most guests use the water when they need a moment before answering a question.”
“Smart. Thanks.”
“Good luck!”
Sabrina smiled tightly and took a small sip of water. Then she was alone again under the hot lights. A few minutes later, the audience quieted as the screen flashed the countdown to filming. Sabrina tucked her icy fingers under her legs.
Becky and Dell finally stopped talking to each other and gave her a warm smile.
She smiled back, her cheeks hurting with the false effort. Be genuine, be yourself. She took a slow deep breath.
The director did a silent countdown, the cameras aimed at them. She’d been instructed not to look at the camera, just to look at Becky and Dell. It was hard not to notice the three huge cameras aimed in their direction.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Becky exclaimed, looking into the camera.
“Good morning to all of our viewers,” Dell chimed in smoothly in his rich baritone voice. “We have a very special guest today. If you’ve made a New Year’s resolution to find the love of your life, Sabrina Clarke might just be the answer.”
“Hi, Sabrina! Welcome!” Becky said with a huge smile.
“Hi, Becky and Dell. I’m happy to be here.” Her voice shook. Dammit.
“We loved your piece ‘Goodbye Commitment-Phobe, Hello Happiness!’” Becky looked off camera toward the crew. “Can we get a link up there? In case anyone missed it.”
A moment later, Becky smiled. “There it is! Thank you. Sabrina, what motivated you to write it? Was it personal experience or based on your clients?”
Sabrina’s heart pounded in her ears. If she said it was personal experience, there would be follow-up questions, and she did not want to share that on national television. If she said it was her clients, then that was a clear breach of patient confidentiality. And she was definitely not going to mention the real vengeful reason. “I don’t know” wasn’t going to cut it here.
“Neither,” she blurted.
“What was the impetus behind it?” Becky asked. “Had you recently found some happiness you were eager to share?”
Sabrina blinked, her mind blanking. This was a show about good news. She had to say something positive. Her eye caught on a sign someone was holding up outside the window. It read Shy Girl Rocks! She couldn’t help her huge smile. Only Logan would tease her like that. He was here. He knew what this meant to her, knew how nervous she was and, even though she told him she could handle it, he’d showed up to support her. He cared about her deeply. Her chest swelled with affection. If only she could see him. He was near the back of the crowd.
Becky turned toward the window and back to Sabrina. “Is there someone you know outside?”
Sabrina smiled. “Sorry, yes. What were you saying?”
Dell chimed in with a teasing tone. “Someone special? Does he have a name?”
Sabrina’s cheeks burned. “Logan.”
Becky slapped her leg. “Well, let’s get Logan in here. Stay tuned. Right after the commercial break.”
Sabrina relaxed a little. It would really help if she knew Logan was in the audience cheering her on. She’d answer Becky and Dell’s questions just like she was having a casual lunch chat with Logan. He was always so relaxed and laid-back.
The young woman who’d brought Sabrina’s water stopped by. “What’s his full name, and what does he look like?”
“Logan Campbell. He’s six feet, probably wearing a black down jacket, short light brown hair and beard.” The sexy one.
“Got it.”
Sabrina glanced over at Becky and Dell, who were in deep conversation. At least with Logan here, she knew someone was on her side. They’d probably laugh about this later.
Minutes ticked by during the commercial break, and she realized she’d never answered Becky’s question. She’d say she was inspired to write her article because she’d seen some of her friends struggle and wanted to help people like them. It was technically true because some of her friends had been through doozies of ex-boyfriends, and she could technically count herself as a friend too. Pleased with her answer, she looked forward to continuing with the interview.
She turned as if with a sixth sense, her gaze colliding with Logan’s. He lifted a hand in a small hello, standing just off camera. She jumped up and rushed over to him. His familiar features in this strange place so dear to her she impulsively hugged him, breathing in his fresh clean scent.
She pulled away, beaming. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
He grinned, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Surprise. Claire was supposed to get me on the list, but there was some kind of mix-up, and I couldn’t get in.”
“Well, you’re here now. I really appreciate it.” She lowered her voice. “No one will even talk to me here.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the hosts. “They’ll talk to you as soon as the camera’s on. You have an answer prepared? I watched the live feed on my phone, and it looked like you froze up.”
“I got it now. I just needed a moment to think. It’s hard to spout stuff off the cuff.”
He gave her arm a squeeze, warming her at the spot. “You got this.”
She wanted to hug him again, but a crew member called her back on set. She slowly backed away, gazing at Logan with equal parts gratitude and warm gooey affection. He smiled encouragingly at her. She whirled and went back to the set, fully prepared to rock this interview.
“Welcome back!” Becky chirped the moment they went back on air. “We brought Logan Campbell into the studio, and our guest is all smiles now. Guess we know the happiness that led to Sabrina’s inspirational article.”
Sabrina’s cheeks heated, and she glanced over at Logan. His black down jacket was off, and a crew member was trying to attach a microphone to Logan’s shirt while Logan backed away.
“Let’s get Logan out here,” Dell said. “Ladies, you’d like him to join us, wouldn’t you?”
The audience clapped and hollered for Logan.
Logan raised a hand, shaking his head. Good. He was standing his ground. He gestured to her, like she was the star.
A surge of affection made her want to hug him again. He was willing to be supportive in the background, careful to respect her boundaries. This was her big moment, even if it was hard for her to claim it, and he respected that.
“Aren’t they cute?” Becky asked. “How long have you been together?”
“Six months,” Sabrina replied and then realized how that sounded. They’d been friends for six months. “I mean…” She looked to Logan, who was frozen like a statue, his expression blank.
“Looks serious,” Dell put in.
“I appreciate what we have,” Sabrina said. Okay, so it sounded like Logan was her boyfriend. At least she hadn’t said fiancé. She blamed her friends for putting the idea into her subconscious. Damn. She hoped Becky and Dell didn’t ask any more questions about Logan.
Becky smiled brightly at her. “How important is sexual compatibility in a relationship?”
“Top of my list,” Sabrina blurted and promptly blushed the mother of all blushes from head to toe. She didn’t dare look at Logan. He was probably smirking and would tease her mercilessly later.
“Sounds like you enjoy being on top,” Becky said in a suggestive voice. “Ladies, we like taking responsibility for our own happiness—” she made a big exaggerated wink “—don’t we?”
Her mind flashed to Logan, naked, under her. Riding him with wild abandon, his hands on her—
She grabbed her mug and took a healthy swallow of cool water. The audience applauded loudly, enthusiastic about being on top. It was mostly women here.
Dell smiled good-naturedly. “I learn so much on this show.”
Everyone laughed.
Dell went on. “Sabrina, if you could give just one piece of advice to someone looking for love, what would it be?”
Sabrina relaxed. Thank God they were off the sex stuff. “Love yourself first. When you’re secure in who you are and what you want in life, it makes it easy to let go of toxic relationships and welcome in love.”
“That is beautiful,” Becky said. She turned to the audience. “Isn’t that beautiful?”
The audience applauded.
Dell chimed in with a question. “When a client comes to you with commitment issues, what’s the first thing you ask?”
Now she was back on familiar territory. She answered all the rest of their questions with professional confidence.
Once the interview was over, she practically floated over to Logan. She’d made it through her first time on TV, and now she could share the whole experience with him. Hopefully he wouldn’t tease her too much.
She stopped in front of him. “I think it went well.”
“Yup.” He jerked his chin. “Come on, they said there’s a back exit to avoid the crowd by the windows.”
She followed him out to a narrow hallway. “You want to ride back with me? Claire got me a car service. It’s a Mercedes with tinted windows.”
“I have my car,” he said tersely.
She studied him, his jaw set tight. “Everything okay?”
“No.”
They passed a couple of crew members talking and laughing.
“We’ll talk outside,” Logan said.
She bit her lower lip. He must be mad that she’d implied he was her boyfriend. Obviously he felt used. He probably respected her less for lying too. She felt awful. She knew the importance of boundaries, and she’d crossed one big time.
They reached the sidewalk outside, near the end of the block and a safe distance from the crowd by the windows.
She touched his jacket sleeve lightly. “Logan, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have implied you were my boyfriend. It just kinda came out.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I have a girlfriend. She’s not going to be happy to hear this on TV. She’s the jealous type.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean you have a girlfriend?” Her voice hit a high note, and she tried for a reasonable tone. “Since when?”
“Since six weeks ago.”
Here she’d been feeling so warm and gooey toward him, and he’d kept this from her. She’d thought they were so close. “You’ve had a girlfriend for six weeks and you never mentioned it?”
He lifted his palms. “I don’t tell you everything.”
“You tell me everything about Checkin.” It dawned on her then. Maybe he didn’t tell her about his girlfriend because he thought she might have feelings for him. Gah! So freaking embarrassing. And she’d thought she’d been so careful to hide it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked away and then back to her with a scowl. “Because I didn’t want you to tell Mad, who’d blab it to everyone.”
She crossed her arms. “I would’ve kept it in confidence.”
“You threw me under the bus. Olivia’s going to be pissed.”
“Olivia who?” For some perverse reason, she wanted to hear all about the woman he’d hidden from her.
“Olivia Slater. You’ve probably heard of her family, they’ve got their hands in everything. Old money.”
“I’ve heard of the Slater Foundation. They do a lot of good work for children in need.”
“Yup. She runs it.”
Dammit. She sounded like a nice person. “Is she the college girlfriend you’ve been pining over for years?”
He jabbed a finger at her. “That is from Mad. First of all, I didn’t pine. She pined for me. Second of all, I was right not to tell you my personal shit.”
She pressed her lips together, eyes watering, throat tight, really hurt that he’d hid his life from her. Even if he didn’t return her lusty feelings, she’d thought at least their friendship was strong. “Is it serious?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “If things go well with our investor meetings, I’m thinking of opening an office in San Francisco. That’s where she lives.”
She swallowed hard, her chest tight, making it hard to breathe. He was leaving, and she hadn’t had a clue. “And she’s happy about this?”
He inclined his head. “She seemed to be.”
“And you’re happy about this?”
“It was my idea.”
His casual tone pissed her off. “Here I thought we were such good friends, and I had no idea you even had a girlfriend. And now you’re leaving! When were you going to tell me, huh? After you moved?”
He frowned. “Why’re you so mad? I’m the one that got thrown under the bus. Now I have to deal with Olivia and, believe me, I’m going to hear it from my family. They’re going to want to know why I didn’t tell anyone you and I were dating for six months.”
“I’m mad because I thought we were close.” Her voice choked, and she didn’t even try to hide her hurt, meeting his eyes directly. “You’re the only one who showed up here for me.”
His voice lowered, husky and coaxing. “Sabrina, come on. We are close.”
“Just go to your stupid jealous girlfriend. My car’s over there somewhere.” She looked up and down the street, suddenly aware of a photographer with a zoom lens aimed at them. Was that her dad?
She took a step closer to the photographer. “Hey!”
The guy turned and ran away. His hair was black in a long ponytail, unlike her dad’s dark blond, but definitely one of his ilk. Why would anyone want pictures of her? She couldn’t possibly be that famous after one article and a TV interview. Paparazzi stalked people for pictures they could sell to the highest bidder. No one would pay a lot for her picture. Unless…was that psycho relationship counselor behind this? Did Tara Brinkman actually pay someone to dig for dirt on Sabrina? Her mind boggled at the thought.
“What’s the matter?” Logan asked.
“Nothing,” she replied absently, scanning the crowd to make sure the man wasn’t coming back.
“An apology would be nice,” Logan said, all haughty and righteous. I was wronged, and you must apologize!
She turned back to him and scowled. “So sorry I said you were my boyfriend. We’ve officially broken up. Send me a postcard from San Francisco.”
He blew out a breath. “Don’t be like that. I was going to tell you when I told everyone else, once I knew I could afford to make the move. I should know in a couple of weeks the way things are going to go. I still want to be friends.”
Her shoulders slumped, her anger leaving her just as quickly as it had appeared. He was leaving for good, and she didn’t want to end things on a sour note. This was her fault, after all. And she was putting way too much expectation on the one friend who’d come through for her. “Me too. I’m sorry I screwed things up for you. I’ll talk to Olivia if you want. I’ll explain it was all just a misunderstanding and nothing’s going on.”
He rubbed his light brown beard. “Yeah, I wish it were that easy. I’ll handle it.”
Her ride, a black Mercedes, pulled up and parked a short distance away.
She managed a small smile for Logan and gestured to the car. “That’s my ride. Thank you for coming today.”
He tugged a lock of her hair. “Shy girl rocked it.”
Why did he have to leave? Her eyes welled, and she quickly turned away, hurrying to her ride.
She hadn’t even made it all the way home before she got a text from Lexi saying, What’s going on? There was a picture of her and Logan in what appeared to be an intense argument on the sidewalk, where they’d been standing not long ago. Logan was jabbing his finger at her. She had her lips pressed together, her expression clearly upset. She clicked on it, and the headline read “Trouble in Paradise?” The short article asked “Is this relationship expert not good at relationships?” Then went on to use their full names, mentioning her recent interview naming him her special someone, and then only minutes later having a serious fight with him on the sidewalk and going their separate ways.
What the hell?
Lexi texted another link a short while later. It was a celebrity gossip site and had Photoshopped pictures of her and Claire side by side. The headline read “Hollywood Love Guru.” The short piece quoted an anonymous source saying Sabrina’s boyfriend was related to Claire Jordan and continued with a juicy quote: “Maybe that’s how Sabrina got so good at relationships, helping all those Hollywood people. Those movie stars date a lot, but only a few stick, like Claire Jordan and Jake Campbell.”
Shit. This couldn’t be Tara Brinkman. She wouldn’t push for a positive moniker like Hollywood Love Guru. How did anyone know about the Logan-Claire connection or Sabrina’s friendship with Claire for that matter? She’d never use Claire for her fame.
Her breathing was shallow, and she forced herself to calm down, closing her eyes and slowly counting backward. Okay, first things first—
Talk to Claire and explain Sabrina had nothing to do with that gossip.
Be clear with everyone that she was not a love guru of any kind and definitely not to Hollywood.
Try not to fly off to a remote desert island never to be heard from again.