12. Logan

"We're very sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. McDonald," the voice on the phone said. It was the last thing I wanted to hear.

"Yeah, I got that," I snapped. I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing myself to breathe through the ever-increasing frustration.

When a well-regarded local magazine had gotten in touch with me, hoping to schedule an interview they'd run alongside a full-page photo of me in their next edition focusing on business owners in their twenties and thirties, I'd ignored my hesitations about getting my photo taken and jumped at the chance to talk about my new business venture. Forge could use all the publicity it could get if I was hoping to expand. And the timing of it was perfect, what with our grand re-opening just around the corner, getting closer each day.

But now they were telling me the photographer had some kind of an emergency and couldn"t come today. I'd specifically rescheduled my life around this happening this afternoon, and when they suggested they could push the piece back to their next issue, which wouldn't go to print until after the event at Forge, I simply snapped.

"That's absolutely unacceptable," I practically bellowed into my phone. "How badly do we need a photo? Can't you just run the piece without it?"

"Sir, it would really be better if?—"

"Or what about another photographer? I'm sure there are other people who can work a goddamn camera in this town."

"Do you know a photographer who would be available on such short notice, Mr. McDonald?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked with a snide smugness that made me want to throw my phone against the wall. But within another moment, I had an idea. I was nothing if not resourceful. It was what had gotten me this far in my career in the first place.

"I can find one," I said curtly. There was a tiny inkling of an idea forming in my mind, at least, and I was sure of my own competence more than I was sure about just about anything else in this world. "I'm sure of it. If I can get someone to take the photo and send it to your offices today, can the piece still run next week?"

A short, disbelieving pause greeted me. Then, clearly done with my shit, the person from the magazine sighed and said, "Yes, sir. Let us know if you're able to get that done today, and we'll let you know what format we need it sent over in."

Once I hung up, I allowed myself a quick moment to let out a string of swear words before I dialed my brother.

Nate picked up on the second ring, his relaxed tone greeting me with a, "Hey, big bro, how's it hangin'?"

"Not well. The magazine shoot has hit a snag."

Nate knew about this plan to promote our shared business, and he cared about it just as much as I did, though not enough to have been open to the idea I'd had originally of his photo being the one we ran with the article. When I explained the situation about the MIA photographer, he let out a puff of breath into the phone receiver, accepting defeat.

"You're a creative type, though," I cut in before he could say some defeatist bullshit. "You must know a photographer we can threaten or bribe into helping me out today. The magazine says they'll run the piece on time if we get someone else to take the photo."

I could picture Nate's scrunched-up thinking face filling the space between our words. I didn't have to wait very long, though, before he finally let out a laugh. "Uh, yeah, I do know a photographer, actually. And so do you, as a matter of fact. Our new stepsister, Carly."

Oh, fuck. Even the sound of her name elicited a disproportionate reaction from me, from my body that wanted her more each time she showed that defiant, authoritative spirit I admired so much. I shifted on my feet, blew out a breath in a hope to calm down my slowly-stirring cock, and focused on business. That was always the best strategy for success. "Fucking hell. Fine. Do you have her information? Is she even good?"

"Oh, she's brilliant," Nate assured me breezily. "I'll text you her number."

I actually really hated talking on the phone, so having to wait through another series of rings as I held my smart phone up to my ear for the third time today wasn't exactly pleasant. But when Carly's warm, husky voice answered with a friendly, "Hello?" I was over it almost instantly.

Christ, had I ever been this instantly attracted to a woman before?

"Uh, hello," I started, clearly smooth as fuck. I cleared my throat and started again with a slightly more normal, "This is Logan. Nate gave me your number. I hope that's alright."

"Oh. Hey, Logan," she responded, and she sounded as confused about this call as I felt. "What's up?"

"I've found myself in need of a photographer, and Nate tells me you're brilliant. Are you available to come take my photo this afternoon? I'll pay you for your time, of course."

"Oh," she said again, and the way all the breath rushed out of her lungs made me briefly wonder what kind of breathy sounds she made in bed. "That's… that was nice of Nate."

"Yeah, he's like that," I said with a bored tone that made her laugh. I cracked a grin, too, glad she couldn't see it.

"And you need this today? Like?—"

"Now-ish, if possible," I clarified, and cringed a little. "I'm sorry for the short notice. I was supposed to have my photo taken for an article about the restaurant, but there was a… complication. So, I'm on a bit of a tight timeline. But if you're not available, I understand."

"No, I can do it," she hurried to agree, and the way my heart lifted with some kind of stupid, airy hope could be studied by scientists at the Museum of Idiocy.

"Great. I really, really appreciate it. I know you must be busy."

"Hey, what's family for?" she joked, and it was a nice change of pace, laughing with her.

"We certainly need to stick together," I joked back.

Once I'd given Carly the address and we hung up the phone, it finally sank in that she'd be in my apartment soon. I was grateful for her willingness to help me, of course, but a bigger, harder part of me was worried about losing any tenuous grip I still had on my self-control the second she and I were alone.

At least I knew she could handle it if I did.