"We need to talk."
"How did I know this was coming?" The hot liquid trickled down her throat and warmed her belly.
"You can't keep this type of schedule. Linda told me you doubled your class load, and you're busy from six in the morning to late at night. You don't eat. You don't sleep. And Linda caught you the other day chugging down coffee when you thought no one was looking. You're falling apart and the main reason is Logan Grant."
Chandler winced at the sound of his name. Three weeks. Somehow it seemed like another lifetime, but at the same time, it felt like just last night she had woken up in his arms, snuggled against his warm body. Then she reminded herself sharply that she'd made the right decision. She'd been strong, and now she needed to rebuild her life.
The Yoga and Arts Center had become her most important goal. Knowing she needed to come up with a drastic plan in order to make up for the capital and time she lost, she dedicated herself to forming as many new classes as she could handle, while she and Linda worked around the clock to survive. Ironically, she was becoming a workaholic and the type of person she normally counseled about reducing stress. She reminded herself it was only for a temporary period, until she got her school back on profitable footing.
And, of course, until she exorcised the ghost of Logan Grant.
"Harry, I don't have a choice right now. We're sinking fast and I have to do everything possible to make sure it doesn't happen."
"Linda said Logan wants to hire you on a permanent contract with his company." He studied her face. "You refused to even consider it. Two other corporations have contacted you about setting up a workshop, and you haven't even pursued a meeting. That would save the Yoga and Arts Center without putting you in an early grave."
"I don't need his charity." Temper surged within her. "The only reason he wants to finish this contract is because he feels sorry for me and guilty for everything he's done. He's probably contacted those other companies for the same reason. I can do this on my own."
Harry didn't say anything for a while. "Hmmm, interesting. Besides giving up your health you've acquired the trait of pride, which you always told me was a sin. You used to always say that accepting help from other people is sometimes the greatest form of strength."
Chandler glowered at him. "I don't need Logan Grant's help."
"I think he's in love with you."
Her mouth dropped open at her friend's stark words. "That's crazy. It was all a big game to him, he never loved me."
"I think he messed up by not telling you about the meeting with your father and obviously regrets it. I think he's the type of man to know what and who he wants without being influenced by your father's money and power. I also think you're terrified of believing him, because then you wouldn't have an easy out of the relationship. I think you're running away from love."
"You think a lot, don't you, Harry?" she muttered under her breath. Chandler buried her face in her mug. "Anyway, what about Richard? He's still waiting for my answer to his marriage proposal. Don't you think we're better suited?"
Harry shook his head. "I think Thorne is lying and I think you know it. Believing Thorne is a lot easier. Cast Logan in the role of the villain, and you don't have to deal with your feelings for him."
"Did you two bond over a beer or something?"
Harry smiled. "Have you talked to your father?"
"No. I refuse to take his calls or see him."
"Your father would be able to tell you the truth. If you're ready to know the truth."
"Why are you on Logan's side?" she demanded. "My whole nightmare came true all over again. It was a replay of four years ago."
He sat beside her and spoke in a gentle voice. "I know you went through hell. But Logan isn't Michael, and I think you could get past it if you wanted to. Unless of course, you're not in love with him. Are you?"
Did she still breathe and think and feel? Every part of her body ached for him. She had focused all her energy into work and hoped to drive away the urgent need to go to him. Even after everything he'd done, she still loved him. Nothing could take that away, not even working herself into the ground. A tiny part deep inside wondered if Harry could be right. Maybe Logan had decided to decline the contract. Maybe he had never lied when he spoke about his feelings.
Maybe she had made a terrible mistake and misjudged him.
Her mind went over the time they spent together. In the beginning, she had felt like it was all a game, but then something had connected them. She'd glimpsed a tenderness such an isolated man who was commonly called the "man of steel" should never have shown. He had made love to her and sworn his body wouldn't lie. He'd sworn she could trust him.
He'd tried to convince her he told the truth, but she was so caught up in her own emotions, she hadn't listened. And she hadn't believed him.
Her mind swirled with a dizzying flow of thoughts. "Do you love him?" Harry asked again.
She nodded.
"Then what are you going to do about it?"
She turned to face her friend in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"You've always fought for what you wanted. When you make a mistake you apologize, fix it, and keep going. If you want him back you have to take the first step."
"What if I judged him wrong?" she asked. Her lower lip trembled slightly.
Harry smiled. "What have you got to lose?"
A life of loneliness. Years of regrets. Nights spent alone in bed, wondering if she had made a mistake for giving up so easily. Suddenly, a blinding flash of realization coursed through her. She had to give it a shot. She needed to talk to her father about what happened. She had already wasted three weeks of self pity while she mourned her unhappy, unlucky existence.
She was damn tired of it.
She sprang up from the sofa and slammed the mug down. "Will you call Linda for me and have her take over my next class? I'm going to see my father."
"Sure, no problem." He watched her race out the door. After a moment, she peeked her head back in.
"Thanks, Harry."
He laughed. "Anytime, buddy. Anytime."
The modern high-rise building centered in the heart of Manhattan thrust toward the sky in rivalry with newer skyscrapers. Tracing the path she had followed since her youth, she waited patiently for the elevator to stop at the top floor, then walked through a long hallway filled with a string of secretaries. Her father had trained them well, as they all questioned her destination, and she'd been almost tackled by the older woman standing by the water fountain. The woman's voice dripped icicles, and her eyes gazed behind thick, gray glasses. She liked Connie at Logan's office much better, Chandler thought to herself absently.
The inside of his office was the same. The thick oriental carpet set off the rich wood paneling and cherry wood desk. Ceiling to wall windows tempted the onlooker to dream of money and power as he gazed over the city. Plush chairs scattered around heavily carved tables to relax clients, and a fully stocked bar took up one side of the room. The smell of cigar smoke still drifted in the air, and stacks of paperwork filled the room, bursting from every spare inch of space.
Alexander Santell looked amazed to see Chandler storm into his office. She hadn't bothered to change, thinking her old sweat pants, faded t-shirt declaring the Yoga and Arts Center, and a pair of worn Reeboks represented her true identity best. She'd caught up her honey brown hair in a pony tail high on her head, and she knew her eyes shone with exhaustion. But a determined spark flamed within her and she directed it against him.
"Good God, daughter, what have you done with yourself?" He dropped a leather binder back on his desk.
Chandler looked around the office as the memories rushed back. Four years ago she had stood in front of her father in his own personal kingdom, an office where she grew up. Now, it didn't seem to be as intimidating as she remembered.
Neither did her father.
He stood behind his desk. His figure emanated waves of raw energy. His silver hair was still thick and
distinguished, marking him as an experienced adversary to the younger generation.
But something felt different. For the first time, she saw her father for who he really was. A human being who had lost his wife and only daughter. A man still fighting a losing battle to get what he wanted. Funny how she never really noticed before.
Alexander Santell was lonely.
She settled herself down on the smooth leather chair opposite his desk. "I want to know everything that happened between you and Logan Grant." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
He puffed on his cigar while he studied her. "Why do you always insist on wearing those old clothes?" he asked gruffly. "You always looked so nice in those wool business suits."
"I'm allergic to wool, father. And I happen to like my old clothes, they're more conductive to teaching yoga."
"Ah, yes, yoga. I thought you had lost your mind when you started teaching those courses, but I have to admit you may have started a new craze in the business world. I saw the figures from Logan's report. Besides having every employee up in arms about your departure, you were able to show some results. Employee satisfaction increased. Quality of work improved. And morale went through the roof. Therefore, you made the company money. Nice job."
Her mouth fell open. Chandler wondered if she was hallucinating. "You spoke with Logan about my program?"
"Sure. Maybe you can do your old man a favor and start classes here. I always like to be ahead of the competition, even though there's no way in hell I'll roll around the floor to relieve stress."
Chandler laughed. They studied each other for a few moments. "Tell me what happened with Logan."
Alexander gave a deep sigh. "I was worried about you. Pushing thirty and still no grandchildren. I heard you started working with Grant and you seemed to get along. I decided I'd give him a little incentive by offering him the business. He was perfect for you."
"You thought Michael was perfect for me."
He snorted. "Big mistake. He was a wimp. Logan has character. He passed the real test."
"What real test?" Chandler asked suspiciously.
Her father laughed. "He told me to go to hell. Said he needed no help with you, he had everything under control. Said he had enough power with the Weatherall contract and didn't need my company. Then he gave me a lecture on the way I treated you."
Chandler watched him in disbelief. "He didn't want the contract, didn't want your company?"
He shook his head. "Wanted no part of it. So naturally I got pissed because he was disobeying a direct order from his future father-in-law, so I started yelling. Then you walked in."
"I didn't believe him." Her heart filled with horror. "Oh God, I told him to get out and that I wanted nothing more to do with him."
"Hmmm, figured you did. You always were stubborn." He ignored his daughter's glare and puffed furiously. "But you had your reasons. The man is completely crazy about you. Smart business man, too. You did well, girl."
"What about Richard Thorne?"
A thunderous expression crossed her father's face. "He wanted the money. I approached him before Logan, thought the kid might have some character. A little competition is good for the soul."
She shook her head in disgust. "You wanted them both fighting over me like some sort of prize?"
"No. I wanted to see which one would choose you. And I got my answer. Now stop back talking. Did it for your own good."
Despair shot through her at his confirmation. Logan was innocent. The entire time Richard had been playing a game, and she'd believed him over Logan. Chandler squeezed her eyes shut. Somehow, she had to find a way to make it up to Logan.
"I have to fix it." Her chin tilted upward in determination. "I have to find a way to give Logan what he wanted. This time with no strings attached."
"What are you talking about?"
She stared at her father and felt a degree of ruthlessness surge in her. Her father looked at her warily. "You're going to give Logan your company. With no conditions. He doesn't have to marry me, he never has to see me again if he doesn't want to. But he can have his contract."
"Are you crazy?" he shouted. His voice rumbled and crashed through the office. He stood up from the desk and waved his hands in the air. A ferocious frown marred his features. Chandler never moved, never blinked, knowing this was part of her father's normal temper tantrum when he couldn't control the situation. "There's no way in hell I'm going to give my company away lock, stock, and barrel with no guarantee it will be kept in the family! That yoga and meditation has warped your mind, girl!"
She fought a smile and eased back in the chair. "Oh, yes, Dad, you will do this. I never wanted the company to begin with. At least Logan will take good care of it and make sure your profits skyrocket. You can't do much better. But there's one more reason you're going to get Logan to sign those contracts."
"And what's that?" he bellowed ominously.
Chandler smiled. "Because you owe me."
Silence descended. Alexander cursed fluently under his breath. His fingers raked back the silver strands of his hair. He glared at her with glittering green eyes that matched her own.
"Oh, hell."
"Do we have a deal?"
He reached again for his cigar and drew the smoke into his mouth. "Do I have a choice?"
"No."
"Then we have a deal."
She rose from the chair. "Pleasure doing business with you, Dad. Oh, by the way, don't tell him I had anything to do with this. I don't want him coming back to me out of a misplaced feeling of guilt. I can handle my own personal life."
"Then where are my grandchildren?"
She ignored his last remark and walked toward the door. When she turned to face him again there was a softness in her tone and in her eyes she had not felt since the day she walked out of his office. "You weren't to blame for Mom's death. I never thought that. She just got sick."
His eyes echoed a deep grief he rarely expressed. Slowly, he nodded. "I loved her. I loved you both."
Their eyes met and locked, and she felt a frisson of understanding connecting them, a start for something that could be more in the future.
Now all she had to do was get the man she loved to forgive her for not believing in him.
Logan replaced the receiver and swivelled his chair around. Darkness had settled over the city. Twinkling lights of the skyscrapers glittered against the dark moonless background.
Alexander Santell's remark played in his mind like a mantra, and the full impact of the older man's speech slammed through him.
The contract was his.
Santell was signing his company over to Logan for nothing. Zero. Nada. Logan didn't have to do a thing except sign on the dotted line.
That's when he knew Chandler was behind the whole thing.
He half closed his eyes and for the first time in three weeks, let himself really feel. After he lost her, he'd reverted to the same son of a bitch he'd been before. Except this time it was different. She had taught him how to be alive. Love. Trust. And when she walked out of his life, she taught him about real pain. Logan realized she'd changed him. He was no longer safe from emotion, and he didn't know what to do.
He knew Thorne had asked her to marry him. He knew she still believed he'd lied to her, and that Thorne was the white knight. The knowledge twisted in his gut like a knife, keeping him from eating or sleeping, driving him to cut down the pain by work. But nothing helped. She had sworn to never believe in him again. Now her father was signing over his company.
Logan's hands trembled slightly as he reached for his pen and tapped it against the arm of his chair. Santell must have told her the truth, and she had listened. This was her way of showing him she was wrong. A way to show she believed in him.
In a final light of blinding realization, Logan decided he didn't want Alexander Santell's company. He wanted Chandler. Her heart and soul. He wanted her to know he would choose her every time, no matter how many millions were at stake.
Logan made the decision, then turned to the next problem at hand. He hit the intercom buzzer and barked a few words to Connie. Minutes later, Richard Thorne walked in.
His attorney looked at ease and quite smug as he strolled into the office. Logan felt a brief flash of regret before it quickly flickered out. He'd used Chandler, lied to her, and would have happily trapped her into a loveless marriage.
So Richard Thorne would have to pay.
The two men nodded at each other. "You wanted to see me," Richard said.
"Yes."
"What's up?"
"You're fired."
Richard blinked. Then smiled. "Hmmm. Sure about that, boss? I would have thought you liked keeping your enemies close."
"Only when they have use. You've now outlived yours."
The smile turned to ice. "You lost, Grant. You lost the woman and the contract. Do you think I care about your pathetic job? I'm about to take over a company to rival yours, and I'll have the woman you want on my arm. Guess the Japanese were wrong. Too much waiting around and you lose your chance."