short and a jaw that could rival Logan’s. His arms swell with muscles that barely hold a candle to Logan’s, but physique aside, the difference between the two men couldn’t be more clear than night and day. There’s a welcoming, definitely playful, side to this man that a satellite from space could pick up on. It could just be the cheesy grin on his face, or it could be the way he genuinely sounds apologetic for interrupting us.
“You’re not intruding. Give me five and I’ll be right with you, Travis.”
Travis excuses himself with a polite nod but Logan’s tense jaw is back. Oh goodie.
“I have some things to tend to today, but we could start with your questions this afternoon. Like I said, make yourself at home, but if you’re going to be outside at all, make sure that you wear jeans and sturdy shoes. There’s a gym down the hall opposite yours, this floor. Upstairs is off limits. I’ve written down the info for wifi, it’s on the island. Please just don’t make any big messes and we’ll get along just fine.”
Logan knocks back the rest of his disgusting smoothie and stands without another word. Seeing that switch flip from laid back, almost flirty Logan to uptight, don’t-get-up-in-my-business Logan shocks me so much that all I can do is watch him leave while I struggle to get down a mouthful of eggs.
***
The warm sun feels glorious on my bare arms and legs as I let the steady beats of my 90s pop cardio station set my pace. I know Logan said that I should wear jeans out, but since my plan is to stick to a few of laps up and down the paved driveway, I figure I should be fine. Between yesterday’s literal whirlwind, every piece of me has been begging to let off some steam, so a run in the mid-morning sun should do the trick.
It takes me longer to reach the end of the driveway than I anticipated, the black pavement getting the brunt of my pent up nerves. Logan’s emotional pendulum just won’t stay still for anything and I don’t know who I’ll get when we finally sit down for our second interview tonight. The idea that I could get detached, taciturn Logan makes me pick up my pace and want to sprint back toward the house. But then the man, in the flesh, perched upon his trusty steed, comes into sight waving at me.
Actually waving.
Slowing, I wave back and watch as he rides my direction. My thoughts shift, realizing I could also get the slightly more charming and somewhat easy-going Logan who seems to have a hospitable, almost caring side. That thought makes me smile and wonder what kinds of things we could—
A loud booming sound that has nothing to do with the Black Eyed Peas blaring in my ear reverberates in my chest, drawing my attention back the man on the horse, now lowering a long-barreled gun from his shoulder. Coming to an abrupt halt, I yank the earbuds out of my ears and start to veer toward the fence closest to where Logan is slowly approaching.
“Don’t move,” he yells across the thirty yards between us, staring at some space in front of me. My gaze follows his and I’m no longer able to move. Something long, dirty brown, and looking very much like a snake lays across the pavement about twenty, maybe twenty-five yards in front of me. It doesn’t seem to be moving and I know for a fact, it wasn’t there a few minutes ago, but I was about to run straight at it.
Now I can add valiant snake killer to the many faces of Logan Lassiter.
My heart will not slow down for anything as Logan approaches the lazy animal. When he gets off his horse and aims the gun back at the snake again, my heart rate picks up to life threatening speeds. The last thing I need is for the object of my latest assignment to be bitten by a poisonous snake. I don’t think that America will find it very ironic that the animal that gives Logan his fatal blow is none other than a real-life version of his team’s mascot.
He lowers the gun and climbs the wooden fence separating the pasture from the
“You’re not intruding. Give me five and I’ll be right with you, Travis.”
Travis excuses himself with a polite nod but Logan’s tense jaw is back. Oh goodie.
“I have some things to tend to today, but we could start with your questions this afternoon. Like I said, make yourself at home, but if you’re going to be outside at all, make sure that you wear jeans and sturdy shoes. There’s a gym down the hall opposite yours, this floor. Upstairs is off limits. I’ve written down the info for wifi, it’s on the island. Please just don’t make any big messes and we’ll get along just fine.”
Logan knocks back the rest of his disgusting smoothie and stands without another word. Seeing that switch flip from laid back, almost flirty Logan to uptight, don’t-get-up-in-my-business Logan shocks me so much that all I can do is watch him leave while I struggle to get down a mouthful of eggs.
***
The warm sun feels glorious on my bare arms and legs as I let the steady beats of my 90s pop cardio station set my pace. I know Logan said that I should wear jeans out, but since my plan is to stick to a few of laps up and down the paved driveway, I figure I should be fine. Between yesterday’s literal whirlwind, every piece of me has been begging to let off some steam, so a run in the mid-morning sun should do the trick.
It takes me longer to reach the end of the driveway than I anticipated, the black pavement getting the brunt of my pent up nerves. Logan’s emotional pendulum just won’t stay still for anything and I don’t know who I’ll get when we finally sit down for our second interview tonight. The idea that I could get detached, taciturn Logan makes me pick up my pace and want to sprint back toward the house. But then the man, in the flesh, perched upon his trusty steed, comes into sight waving at me.
Actually waving.
Slowing, I wave back and watch as he rides my direction. My thoughts shift, realizing I could also get the slightly more charming and somewhat easy-going Logan who seems to have a hospitable, almost caring side. That thought makes me smile and wonder what kinds of things we could—
A loud booming sound that has nothing to do with the Black Eyed Peas blaring in my ear reverberates in my chest, drawing my attention back the man on the horse, now lowering a long-barreled gun from his shoulder. Coming to an abrupt halt, I yank the earbuds out of my ears and start to veer toward the fence closest to where Logan is slowly approaching.
“Don’t move,” he yells across the thirty yards between us, staring at some space in front of me. My gaze follows his and I’m no longer able to move. Something long, dirty brown, and looking very much like a snake lays across the pavement about twenty, maybe twenty-five yards in front of me. It doesn’t seem to be moving and I know for a fact, it wasn’t there a few minutes ago, but I was about to run straight at it.
Now I can add valiant snake killer to the many faces of Logan Lassiter.
My heart will not slow down for anything as Logan approaches the lazy animal. When he gets off his horse and aims the gun back at the snake again, my heart rate picks up to life threatening speeds. The last thing I need is for the object of my latest assignment to be bitten by a poisonous snake. I don’t think that America will find it very ironic that the animal that gives Logan his fatal blow is none other than a real-life version of his team’s mascot.
He lowers the gun and climbs the wooden fence separating the pasture from the
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