For Better or Worse

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry if I was rude before. I’m just not really in the market for . . . you know.”

He gave her an easy smile. “Everyone’s in the market for a friend, Alexis.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it as she realized he was right. She could use a friend. She’d spent her entire life in Boston and knew almost nobody in New York. This guy seemed nice and nonthreatening enough—what would be the harm in a little conversation over dinner? It had been too long since she’d had somebody to share a meal with.

Logan seemed to know the moment she capitulated, because he turned more fully toward her. “A recovering student, Alexis, is a recent graduate. One who hasn’t quite absorbed that there will be no more finals, no more requisite all-nighters, and no more dorm sex.”

Alexis laughed. “Undergrad, then?”

He gave her a wry look. “How young do I look, darling? MBA from Columbia. Just finished up end of last year.”

She felt a little stab of relief that he wasn’t twenty-two.

He leaned toward her slightly. “Twenty-five next month, just in case you were wondering. As a friend.”

She tried to hide her smile and failed. “Columbia, huh? You’re a long way from home.”

“Noticed that, did ya?” He winked. “I came out here for undergrad, also Columbia. Always figured I’d go back to London and maybe someday I will, but . . .” He shrugged. “Seems I have stuff to do here first.”

“Such as?” She took a sip of her wine, dismayed to see that it was half-empty.

“Well, this will probably shock you, given my vast amount of brawn, but I’m an accountant. Or at least I will be, once I get my business up and running.”

Alexis was impressed. “Your own business?”

Most twentysomethings, even those with an entrepreneurial bent, opted to get a few years of work for someone else under their belts before branching out on their own.

He nodded. “I’m working out of my flat for now, but I’m hoping to lease some office space soon, get some legitimacy. If nothing else to get my father off my back.”

“He’s not a fan of your plan?” Alexis asked.

Logan’s shoulder lifted, and for the first time he seemed a little sad. “Both parents have had it in their head that I’d come home. Run the family business in London.”

“Which is . . . ?”

He spun his beer glass idly. “Financial consulting firm. My father’s the CEO, Mum’s the COO.”

“Wow, that’s . . .”

“Scary?” Logan supplied.

“I was going to say impressive. That they work ­together—without killing each other, I mean.”

“They’re in love. It’s atrocious,” he said with a wink. “What about your folks?”

Alexis laughed. “Not in love. They divorced when I was in high school. Dad’s remarried and happy now, I think. Mom not so much.”

“And you?” he said. “Are you happy, Alexis?”

She pursed her lips, surprised and yet not entirely unsettled by the personal question. “It’s been a while since anyone asked me that. Since I even thought about it, really.”

“Think it out. I’ll wait,” he said with a wink.

She didn’t have to think that long. “I’m almost happy.”

“You sound quite confident on that.”

She shrugged. “Let’s just say that I need a few things to fall into place in my professional life, but once that happens . . . yeah, I’ll be happy.”

She’d make sure of it.

“You’re starting your own business.”

Her head whipped around. “How’d you know that?”

Logan reached over and tapped her laptop. “I can spot an Excel spreadsheet from a mile away.”

“Is that why you came over here?”

“No, darling. That would be your smile.”

“I don’t remember smiling.”

He burst out laughing. “You’re unusual. I like that. And you did smile. At the bartender, when you ordered your wine.”

“You were watching me,” Alexis said, eyebrows lifting. “Rather creepy for a friend.”

Instead of acknowledging her comment, he nodded his chin at her laptop. “What are you working on, if you don’t mind my asking? Dare I hold out hope you’re also an ­accountant and we can have darling, glasses-wearing babies together?”