Simply Scandalous (Simply Series Book 2) by Carly Phillips (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📗

files and paperwork that ought to keep him busy straight through next year. He muttered a curse. Add to that Tuesday night calendar where he represented whatever case came onto the docket and the result had been no time to himself.

Zero time to sleep… or to get in touch with Cat. After the closeness they’d shared, what he had to say couldn’t be summed up in a brief text or a short voicemail, and that was all the time he’d had, considering he’d been handed this case cold on Monday morning.

The burning desire to see her again was all-encompassing. Everything about her appealed to him. Her allure… her uncertainty.

He’d promised to call her “soon.” That was Saturday. He’d dropped her off on Sunday. And here it was Tuesday night. “Son of a bitch.” She was going to write him off and think he’d blown her off.

A firm hand smacked him on the side of the head. “Didn’t I bring you up better than to curse like that?” his grandmother asked.

He stared at the open door she’d barged through without warning. “And don’t manners dictate you knock?”

“Why should I? Door’s open.”

He placed the phone on the desk, rose, and walked around to his grandmother. “Good to see you, Gran. You’re always welcome. You know that.” He kissed her weathered cheek, wondering why she would show up at his office at this hour of the night.

“Of course, I do. But it wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t. We need to talk.” The gleam in her eyes intrigued him as much as it disturbed. She was up to something again.

“How’d you get here?” he asked.

She let out a long-suffering sigh. “I let Ralph drive me. Though I still say that DMV person was wrong and I am not a hazard on the road.” She sniffed.

He’d never let her know that after she’d backed over her prized roses in the driveway, he’d pulled strings to make sure she had an eye exam and didn’t get her license renewed. He wanted her to live as long as possible. “Well, I’m glad you were prudent, anyway,” he said, knowing she still snuck a drive or two when she could get away with it.

“Like I had a choice. Your father would call the cops on me. His own mother. Imagine that.”

“Imagine.” He grinned. “I have to call Cat first and then we can talk.”

She glanced warily at his cell. “Talk to me first. Call later,” she said, sounding panicked. “I haven’t eaten. Let’s go to that fancy place downstairs.”

“That fancy place is a bar.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go.” She yanked his arm. For a frail-looking woman, she had almost superhuman strength. Although he could argue with her, he had no desire to make his first call to Catherine with an audience present and he knew damn well he’d never get Emma to wait outside. Better to feed her and send her on her way. Then he’d call Catherine and leave a message if he had to.

He managed to grab his folders and stuff them into his briefcase before Emma herded him out the door. Five minutes later, he and his grandmother were seated in a sports bar in the same building as his office.

“Want to see a menu?” he asked her, calling the server over at the same time.

She shook her head. Not a strand of white hair fell from her perfect bun. She hadn’t changed since he was a kid. And he loved her for it, even if there were times—like now—when she confounded him.

“Whatever you’re having is fine with me,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “Beer, and I thought you hadn’t eaten.”

She fidgeted in her seat. “I lost my appetite.”

“Two beers,” he said to the server.

“Be right back.”

Logan leaned back in his seat and glanced around the crowded bar. “Okay, you’ve got me in a public place where I can’t make a scene. What’s going on?”

“You are good.”

The server returned and placed two bottles and their glasses down onto the table.

“I’ll take mine straight up,” Emma said.

He swallowed a laugh.

“You might want to do the same,” she said without cracking a smile.

His urge to laugh ceased as he digested her warning. He handed her one bottle, grabbed the other for himself, and took a large gulp, refusing to comment when she did the same. The sight was absurd but no doubt that was her intention. Get him in a public place, keep him off guard, and drop her bomb, whatever it was.

The cold, wet brew didn’t ease the dryness in his mouth. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“What? I can’t stop by to visit my favorite grandson?”

“I’m your only grandson. Now talk.”

She sighed. “You’re working hard?” she asked.

“It’s been a hectic week.”

“And it’s barely begun. No time for play?” she asked.

“You keeping tabs on me, Gran?”

“I have to hunt you down at your office at ten o’clock… it speaks for itself.” She tilted her head to the side. “The women in your life can’t be too understanding if you’re so out of touch.”

There are no women in my life, he almost said. It was his standard response to Emma’s not-so-subtle prying. But he caught himself because they both knew this time, it would be a lie.

As much as he valued his privacy, he wouldn’t mind unloading on his grandmother. She understood him better than anyone else and already knew he was interested in Cat. More importantly, she liked Cat, too.

He leaned forward. “I’m not sure how she feels about me right now. I haven’t had a minute’s free time to get in touch.”

Emma made a chiding, clucking sound with her tongue. “You know what they say about all work and no play. You ought to go find Catherine and have a good time with her. Relieve some of that tension you’re carrying around with you.”

He had no patience for her prying or the way she spoke of Cat as if she meant nothing more to him than a good time in bed. He shook his head. “You