“Hi,” I reply, turning to Mackie just as she launches into an overly dramatic greeting, like we’re best friends who haven’t seen each other since roll call.
Logan cuts in. “Has the desk been set up?”
“Yes, sir,” she says quickly. “I had them set it up just like you said.”
I follow Logan into his office.
There’s a chair shoved into the corner. Next to it sits what can only be described as a stool masquerading as a table.
My smile freezes.
Logan does too.
“What the hell is this?” he says flatly. “I said a desk. Not… this.”
Before I can say anything, he grabs the chair by the back and drags it toward his own desk. He pushes his chair aside and slides mine in right next to him.
Then he steps back and studies it.
“I like it,” he declares.
I smirk.
When I look back, Mackie is still standing in the doorway looking like a deer in headlights.
“The phone,” I say.
She jumps, finally noticing the device buzzing in her hand. “Sorry,” she mutters before hurrying back to her desk.
Logan steps beside me and murmurs, “See? Needs direction on everything.”
I laugh softly. “I think it’s real.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I thought the helplessness was a flirty thing. But she’s actually just like that.”
He goes quiet.
I turn toward him. “What?”
His expression looks… wounded.
“You thought she was flirting with me?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Obviously.”
He tilts his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
My mouth opens. Then closes. Because that’s something I would’ve brought upbefore.
I shrug.
“Right,” he says quietly, nodding to himself. “Of course.”
He clears his throat. “I’ve got some calls to make. Why don’t you start going through the reports.”
He opens the door, pauses like he wants to say something else, but walks out without another word.
