Chapter 11
Ava
“Ready?” I ask when Logan appears in the living room.
Taking my advice, he’s switched out of his business suit into a pair of khaki shorts with a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing several tattoos on each arm.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” I exclaim, making my way to him to run my fingers across the intricate design on his forearm. It’s more of a statement to myself than anything, having never taken him for the type to have ink.
Glancing down at his arms, he looks back up to me, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll just get Rodrick, and then we can go,” he turns, but I grab his arm to stop him.
“We don’t need security, or a driver. It’s not far, so we’ll be fine.”
“We can just take a tail.”
“Trust me,” I plead, gripping his arm tightly.
With a slight frown, he looks down at me, and when the side of his mouth begins to curl upward, I know I’ve got him.
“Okay,” he agrees, and I mentally jump for joy before leading him out the suite.
“So, where is this place?”
“A surprise,” I beam.
“Is that so,” he smirks, and it feels as if the elevator shrinks with just the two of us looking at each other. Seriously, this tension growing between us is becoming too much to bear, but I enjoy flirting with it like a moth to a flame. The elevator doors open, and we both remain still until a man coughs to get our attention as he wishes to board the elevator car.
Pulling Logan from the hotel, I march him to the town square I found yesterday, careful to watch his face as he takes in all the sights and sounds surrounding us.
“Isn’t it so lovely?” I ask when he fails to comment.
“Taksim Square?” he raises his eyebrows.
“Is that what this is called? You’ve been here before?” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Never on foot,” he says, glancing around before adding, “we’ve driven through, but it’s not the same.”
He’s smiling, and I can’t help but return the gesture, staring up into his bright blue eyes, surrendering to his charm.
A loud horn blares behind us. Before I can turn around, Logan pulls me tightly into his arms as a man on a motorbike zooms past. My heart is racing, but my focus is still on his unbelievably handsome face, as he glances down to my lips and I silently beg him to kiss me.
Hearing my plea, he leans in, gently pressing his lips against mine as the tips of our noses softly graze each other. His hand holds my head as his fingers tangle in my hair. The ground feels like clouds beneath my feet, and I pull away, remembering where I am and what is happening.
“I can’t,” I whisper, looking away as I pull from our embrace.
Unwilling to let me go, Logan interlocks our fingers together, and I plead with my eyes for him to stop this game. I’m his life coach. He is my client. The guilt is unbearable, because not only have I crossed such a dangerous line, I want to do it again and again.
“Ava?”
“Logan, this isn’t right,” I shake my head as I weakly pull my fingers away, already regretting the separation.
“Just let me hold your hand,” he reasons, and I scrunch my face in response. We don’t need to have any type of embrace in our professional relationship.
“It’s more for safety than intimacy,” he adds, looking around at the growing crowd.
The area is even more bustling at night, and I have to admit that he has a point about safety, because there’s a lot going on from every direction. With heavy eyelids, I nod, relaxing my hand into his after sighing in defeat.
“So, show me what we came out here for,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs on my neck.
I glance up at him, and he flashes that heart-stopping smile before squeezing my hand. My shoulders drop as I relax, letting go of the guilt, choosing to focus on the exploration.
Together, we walk through the cobblestone alleys I recently discovered, looking into the windows of shops before we stumble upon a musical commotion from a small restaurant on a corner.
“Are you hungry?” Logan asks, following my vision to what looks to be a party of some sort.
“Yes!” I smile, knowing I’m blushing like a ten-year-old, but I don’t care.
Pulling me along this time, he leads me to the restaurant, indicating a table for two to the hostess, who quickly seats us at a patio table, just along the sidewalk. It’s perfect, because we can enjoy the musical duo, which consists of a man playing a string instrument, and a woman singing.
“Did you get anything from the shops today? You look like you were interested in some stuff,” Logan asks once the waiter leaves us with a silver pitcher of water and two glasses.
“Why did you leave me that money?” I blurt out, ignoring his question.
“What do you mean?”
“Rodrick gave me an envelope he said you left for me. Inside was a phone, a few phone numbers and over a thousand dollars. Why’d you leave me that?”
“Ava, you’re my guest,” he leans across the table, his large hand extending to cover my fingers as he speaks.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. He said you wouldn’t take security, so the phone and numbers were the only thing I could think of to add some layer of security. I won’t let anything happen to you while you’re with me.”
“And the money?” I tilt my head defiantly, since he still has not answered my initial question, but his lips curl in amusement.
“You’re my guest, Ava. I wanted you to have a good time, and I was away. While we’re together, I’m not going to let you to pay for anything. I just wanted to offer that same courtesy in my absence,” he shrugs as if explaining this is foreign, but I’m not used to people giving me money.
“Know what you want?” The waiter arrives and we are speechless, as we both have yet to look over the menu.
“We’ll have the special,” I announce with a shaky voice.
Logan’s head almost spins off his neck when he turns to me so quickly.
“Pilav and dolma?” The waiter asks, and I nod my head confidently before he scribbles something on his notepad and then gives me one last glance. If I’m not mistaken, he’s impressed.
“Do you know what you just ordered?” Logan frowns.
“No,” I shrug my shoulders, and to my surprise he claps his hands and laughs loudly.
“Do you, Logan?”
“Yes. You asked for camel butt,” he chuckles, and my smile fades quickly as my eyes scouring the crowded restaurant for the waiter.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” he says through laughter, reaching for my arm before adding, “It’s rice and stuffed peppers.”
“I can’t believe you.” I feign anger, but seeing him laugh so carefree, it’s impossible to be upset. I’ve not seen him this relaxed since we met.
“Did you want something?” The waiter appears at our table, responding to my panicked searching look.
“A bottle of raki, please,” Logan answers, and the waiter nods before walking off, looking impressed yet again.
“I don’t need you to leave me money, Logan.”
“Are we here again?” He bites his bottom lip while rolling his eyes at my insistence to discuss his strange generosity.
“We never resolved it.”
“Okay, let me make it crystal clear for you,” he takes a sip of his water before leaning across the table to continue, “when you’re traveling with me, you won’t pay for anything. Whether I’m there or not.”
“That’s not how this works,” I say, rolling my eyes, exasperated.
“The client is always right, Ava,” he teases as the waiter returns with a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid and two shot glasses.
“What is this?” I ask Logan as he fills both of our glasses.
“It’s raki. They drink it all over this region. It’s a bit of an acquired taste, but I figured you should try it to get the full experience,” he shrugs, raising his glass.
I clink my glass with his, and throw the shot back like it’s vodka.
“No!” Logan, reaches out, but I’ve already drank the entire glass.
“What?” I say, wiping my mouth as he throws his head back, howling with laughter.
“It’s not a shot, babe. You sip it slowly,” he explains, taking a sip from his own glass, but all I can focus on is that he called me babe.
“Well, now you have to drink that whole thing, since you didn’t properly explain the etiquette,” I challenge. With a smirk, he throws his drink back, grimacing as he swallows the strong liquid, which is still burning in my chest.
Two drinks later, the waiter brings our dinner, and it smells incredible. There’s one large green pepper, stuffed with ground lamb, sautéed onions and rice. It’s even better than the dish I had on my own the day before, and somehow, sitting across from Logan makes it even more delicious.
The waiter arrives just as we finish, taking our empty plates, while Logan compliments him on how delicious it was before asking if they have chocolate pudding.
“Oh, wait! What about rice pudding?” I butt in.
“Yes, we have both,” the waiter answers.
“Ooh! Can we get them?” I look across at Logan, and he smiles before nodding to the waiter.
“You like rice pudding?”
“I didn’t know I did until I tried it yesterday,” I say, my stomach clenching as Logan’s gaze grows intense.
Although I’m aware of the boundaries, this is hands down the best date of my life. I’ve never felt so relaxed and comfortable with someone I barely know, but Logan has a way of making me forget everything else going on around me, including the musician, who is now playing a solo.
“He’s good with that… whatever it is,” I point to the small stage as he plays a teardrop-shaped guitar.
“It’s called a lavta,” Logan leans across the table so that I can hear him above the music mixed with the chatter of the restaurant.
“How do you know that?” I ask in amazement.
“I’ve been coming here every three months for two years now. I pick up a little each visit,” he explains, and I am impressed by his wealth of knowledge and experience.
“You’re smart,” I say before I can stop myself.
“So are you. And you’re also very beautiful. Thank you for bringing me out. You turned an awful day into a perfect evening,” he smiles the most simple and genuine smile of gratitude, and my pelvic muscles tighten dangerously, my body raging with hormones and alcohol.
“Thank you, Logan,” I blush, and he smiles at my bashfulness.
The waiter returns, placing our desserts on the table. The rice pudding is perfectly sweet and creamy. My eyes close as I savor the flavors.
Logan smiles, eating his chocolate pudding, before taking a scoop and extending his spoon across the table. Without hesitation, I lean in, tasting the rich dessert. It’s an intimate moment, but it feels so natural. The dessert is delicious, and I return the favor, holding my spoon across the table, offering him a taste of my rice pudding, but he shakes his head.
“I tried yours! You have to!” I yell over the music, my arm still extended. His shoulders drop, as he looks from side to side, like an embarrassed teenager before leaning across the table and trying the pudding.
“Hey, I’ve got to ask a favor of you,” his face suddenly changes to a serious scowl and I perk up, trying to muster all my professionalism.
“What’s that?”
“I know this was supposed to be our last day away, but today I was asked to go to Greece for a short trip. Would it be okay if we go there tomorrow instead? It’s so close, I could kill two birds with one stone on this trip,” he squints his eyes awaiting my answer.
Honestly, I stopped listening to him after the word Greece. It’s been my dream destination since my twenty-first birthday, and now he is literally asking if it would be an inconvenience to visit. Tomorrow!
“Are you kidding me? I would love to go to Greece!” I shriek, and the look of happiness on his face is to die for.
“I’m going to Greece! I’m going to Greece!” I dance around our table, my arms raised above my head. The patrons all smile and clap, though I doubt any of them understand a word I’m saying.
My eyes land on Logan, as he watches me, and I know there’s no way I can hold back my feelings forever.