And why am I on the bad side of it?
Logan ignores me.
I shift to the right angle to see him sitting at a metal desk at the other end of the hallway, his feet propped up as he bites into a jelly donut.
Need to peeso bad. And also find fresh air, and lots of it. “The only reason Daphne never told the captain about your little indiscretion at the lake was because I was dating your brother. No reason for her to not spill the beans now.”
He snorts as a glop of red jelly squeezes out of his donut on his second bite and drops onto his navy-blue uniform shirt, along with a spray of powdered sugar knocked off the donut by his snort. “No one believes anything Daphne says.”
“Your mother does.”
Ironic, but true.
The take-no-bullshit, should-see-a-proctologist-about-how-far-that-stick-is-wedged-up-her-ass Mrs. Camille loves my bestfriend and roommate and fawns over her every time they cross paths.
Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know Daphne’s been disinherited from her hotel-chain family and Mrs. Camille is hoping to get a slice of the family pie, which honestly seems unlikely because Daph hardly keeps that information private.
Maybe it’s because Mrs. Camille secretly wants to get tattoos and mermaid-inspired dye jobs.
I think it’s most likely that Mrs. Camille wants Daphne to costar in one of the local theater productions so that her name brings in a bigger audience, but my brothers and Daph all laugh whenever I say it.
But also, see again, half the community thinks the Camilles are wonderful, and I think a good part of the rest don’t have an opinion.
“One phone call, and Daph will spill the beans,” I say.
Logan eyes me.
I stare back without blinking while trying to not let him see how fast I’m breathing.
He realizes I’m not blinking, and he straightens and stares back at me harder.
Dammmmmmit.
Now?
Seriously, a staring contestnow? With a guy who’s almost a decade older than I am?
When I have a hundred pounds of fish in danger of rotting outside in my food truck and I have to pee and I’m barely holding off a panic attack?
He rises and saunters down the hallway, eyes glued to mine.
Yep.
Apparently we’re doing this now.
“I could file a complaint against you for unnecessary force and harassment,” I threaten.
He keeps chewing on his donut and doesn’t answer.
“C’mon, Logan. I gave you all of the documentation. I was supposed to be there.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“I had every reason to believe I was.”Don’t let him see you squeeze your legs together, Bea. Donotlet him see you squeeze your legs together.
He stops on the other side of the bars. “You know what I think? I think you set up the fake email account and booked thepartyyourself.”
If I weren’t staving off a panic attack, I’d roll my eyes at the idiotic suggestion that I booked a fake party so I could try to invade Athena’s Rest’s famous new resident’s estate.
