Confidential: Expecting! by Jackie Braun Page B

This evening, however, the only person she found herself curious about was Logan…and it had nothing to do with a story.
    He looked incredible. No surprise there, of course. The man not only could afford to wear Armani, his broad shoulders and lean, muscular build did the suit justice. But there was more to Logan than Hollywood good looks. She’d never doubted his intelligence, but he was deeper and far more complex than she’d first realized.
    He fascinated her not because she was a reporter, but because she was a woman.
    Gorgeous? Did he really think so? And those manners of his, opening doors, helping her with hershawl. He made her feel as if she’d just fallen into a fairy tale.
    “Mallory?”
    She blinked, becoming aware that the man in question had been speaking to her while she’d been gazing at him. She could only hope she wasn’t wearing some sappy expression on her face.
    “Sorry. My mind strayed.”
    “And here I thought you were hanging on my every word,” he teased. “I was just saying that the seating isn’t assigned. Do you have a preference?”
    She glanced around. At this point all of the tables had at least two or more occupants, which meant introductions would be necessary, small talk, too. Usually she enjoyed meeting new people. As for small talk, Mallory was good at it, and even better at getting folks to open up about themselves. But suddenly she didn’t want to socialize or chat or look for possible stories. She wanted to be alone with Logan, picking up where they’d left off in her foyer.
    “Would you mind sitting at a table near the back of the ballroom?” she asked.
    His brows notched up at the suggestion. “So we can leave early without causing much of a disturbance?”
    “Exactly.”
    When he smiled, it caused another sort of disturbance, especially when he asked Mallory, “Am I to assume you have something in mind for us later?”
    “Maybe,” she allowed.
    What was she getting herself into? She didn’t know. She didn’t care, which was totally unlike her.
    She was off her game completely, she realized a moment later when she failed to notice Sandra Hutchens until it was too late to avoid her.
    “Hello, Mallory. I wondered who was here for the Herald.”
    The other woman’s gloating snarl turned to bewilderment, however, the moment she recognized Mallory’s escort.
    “You’re…aren’t you…?”
    “Yes.” Logan took the hand Sandra was pointing in his direction and shook it politely. “I’m Logan Bartholomew. And you are?”
    “A pain in my butt,” Mallory muttered at the same time Sandra gave her name.
    “Mallory and I work together.”
    “Are you here covering the benefit?” Logan asked, unaware—or was he?—of how insulting the senior reporter found the question.
    “No. I have a beat that allows me to write actual news stories.” Sandra sniffed. Her gaze shifted to Mallory then, and the malicious triumph in her expression was impossible to miss. “I’m here tonight as the guest of Larry Byram. You remember him, don’t you Mallory.”
    Oh, she remembered Larry, all right. Her teeth clenched. Larry was one of the mayor’s top aides and the weasel who’d fed Mallory the bogus story and quotes that ultimately had led to her demise.
    “How is Larry?” she asked sweetly.
    “He’s good. And enjoying a promotion.”
    No doubt he was also enjoying Mallory’s demotion. “How nice for him,” she managed.
    “I’ll tell him you said hello,” Sandra offered with ill-concealed delight.
    “Yes, please do.”
    “Would you excuse us for just a moment?” Sandra said to Logan. She grabbed Mallory’s arm and dragged her a couple of feet away without waiting for his reply. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Stevens,” she hissed the moment they were out of earshot.
    “Up to?”
    “Don’t play games with me. You’re with Logan Bartholomew.”
    “I know.”
    “Why?”
    “I should think that’s obvious.”
    “Not in your case,” Sandra snapped.