Which, in New York at that time of year, was guaranteed to beafterNew Year's. In other words, we had over two weeks ahead of us where I would have to pretend, full-time, that I was the girls' mother and madly in love with a man I currently despised.
The homeowners went in first, inviting us to follow and make ourselves comfortable. But Logan stopped us the moment we stepped out of the elevator, his voice low.
"Everyone remembers the plan, right?"
"I'm hungry," Anna replied.
Beside her, Aurora signed,'Me too.'
I had to admire those girls. They knew how to keep their priorities straight.
"Focus," Logan insisted. "This is important. So, tell me, what do you call Evelyn?"
Anna let out an exasperated huff and crossed her arms. Aurora mirrored the gesture, though she just looked tired.
"Mom," Anna muttered.
Logan looked at Aurora, who uncrossed her arms and made a hand sign. He then turned to me for translation.
"Yeah, she said 'mommy,' too."
"Very good. And what do you call me?"
He stared at Anna. She stared back, her irritation mounting.
"Silly," she snapped.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Even as a childish insult, I knew it carried weight for a five-year-old, and I felt a spark of vindication. After all, I couldn't curse out Logan Turner with the wordsIhad in mind.
"Anna, you need to take this seriously," he said, his own irritation rising. "You know what I am to you, don't you? That's what you should call me."
He kept his eyes locked on her until she finally relented.
"Father."
"'Daddy' would be more affectionate, but 'father' will do." He turned to Aurora. After a pause, she nodded. Logan looked at me for another translation.
"Yeah, she said 'daddy.'"
"Good. You see, Anna? Your sister is much better behaved than you."
"I'mhungry," she repeated, making it abundantly clear she didn't care what he thought.
"Fine, let's go find you something to eat."
The girls grabbed each other's hands and scampered into the apartment. I moved to follow, but Logan stepped in front of me.
"And you? You know what to call me, right?"
I gave him a smile dripping with sarcasm. "What's your preference? 'Honey'? 'Sweetheart'? 'My love'?"
"None of the above. I'm a serious man. You can just call me Logan. You simply need to act like we're together. Discreetly."
"Let me see if I understand... I should lie, but not lietoomuch?"
"I'm not the kind of man who has a cheesy romance with cutesy nicknames."
"And what kind of romance does Logan Turner have?" I mused. "Oh, I know... the kind where he just puts his clothes on and leaves in the morning."
