Logan refreshed his emails for about the tenth time since he arrived in front of the restaurant Callum had told him to meet. This was the right address and sported the same name as the one from his last email, but it looked too casual of a restaurant for someone like Callum to frequent. Aside from the renovated entrance and what looked like fancy lights past the front door, the exterior looked worse for wear. From the chipped paint and the lightbulb out for the letter P in the neon sign, Logan couldn't imagine Callum visiting here of his own free will.
But everything Callum did, was quite a surprise to Logan, so maybe this was the right place after all?
Callum hadn't sent another email, and it had already been ten minutes past the time he said to meet, but Logan figured this was normal for a CEO, being late to events. He couldn't complain; he had been late to work the first time they met.
Like the first time they met, Logan heard the familiar screech of tires behind him, the same sleek car pulling up the curb. It wasn't a parking stall and remained in the bike lane, but Callum stepped out, motioning the driver to pull away. Logan was surprised to see him in a less business-like attire; he still had the shiny shoes and slacks but donned a casual fleece jacket over a plain t-shirt. Logan wondered if he looked too formal for the occasion, still wearing the same clothes from work.
"Sorry I'm late," he rushed out before pointing to the black car. "Trouble finding parking. Were you waiting long?"
Had this been Chris, he would've said yes; Logan's social and generalized anxiety meant waiting a few minutes felt like a decade. Chris was notorious for being late to their dates or lunch meet-ups, sometimes leaving Logan to wait for an hour. But Callum was not Chris, and neither was this a date nor anything more than what they had agreed upon: a simple dinner to pay each other back. Besides, Callum was a CEO; to decide on a dinner with a mere employee wasn't something Logan could fault his tardiness for.
"Not at all." Logan waved a hand between them. "Did you make a reservation? I wasn't sure if I should've grabbed a table or not."
"I haven't. They're usually pretty empty during the week."
Logan nodded, glancing over at the hostess at the front, the same one he had made eye contact with a couple of times as he checked his emails. He was sure she was judging him on the inside, especially with how nervous Logan was standing on the sidewalk.
Callum had already stepped under the eave of the restaurant's roof. "You coming?"
Logan's legs finally listened and moved, following Callum into the building. He avoided eye contact with the hostess, and instead, stared at her name badge. Kara, it read, with two pink hearts.
She straightened her back, reaching for the menus on her right. "You together?"
"What—no," Callum sputtered, stepping away from Logan. "For work."
The hostess let out a nervous laugh. "I meant are you dining together. Party of two?"
"Right." Callum gulped. "Yeah."
Logan bit his lip to stop from laughing along with the hostess. She picked up two menus before motioning to a window seat. "Right this way."
"Thank you," Logan told her as they sat down in a quieter part of the restaurant.
Callum watched her walk away before leaning forward in his seat. "That was embarrassing."
"You probably have to correct yourself a lot when you eat out with coworkers."
Callum tilted his head, grimacing. "I don't normally eat out with anyone from work. Aside from Charlotte."
"And the flings?"
Callum blinked. "No, I haven't. Not to this place, anyway."
Logan bit his lip, regretting bringing it up. He held the menu up to block his view of Callum, staring at the different options, surprised to see that these were pretty affordable prices. "Um, what do you recommend?"
"Anything from the pasta section. Their steak and lobster are the best if you're feeling fancy," Callum said quickly. "But order whatever you like. My treat, remember?"
Logan set the menu down enough to see Callum's face. "I should be treating."
"I thought you said you were covering the drinks. You said nothing about the food."
Logan scoffed. "I could pay for both with how cheap they are."
A smirk danced on Callum's face. "It's fine. Just order whatever. I recommend the browned butter and mizithra pasta; it's probably my favorite."
Logan browsed through the other options that caught his eye before settling on the one Callum recommended.
"I'll take two of these," Callum told the waiter when she arrived, pointing to the pasta. "And a water for me."
"Coke," Logan told him. He waited for the waiter to walk out of earshot. "No alcohol?"
Callum laughed. "I'm a lightweight. You didn't choose alcohol either."
Logan's brows raised. "Well, probably not professional to drink with your boss."
"Well, other employees love to drink during working dinners or team outings. It's not that entirely unprofessional."
"This isn't a work dinner, is it?"
Callum shrugged. "It could be, but talking about work over delicious food would be a crime. Our work dinners are usually at a pub, where people go more for appetizers."
"And I'm not a lightweight, for the record," Logan mused.
"Then you'd have to attend one," Callum teased. "After all, you are the marketing lead."
Logan didn't get a chance to respond as the waiter arrived with their pasta and drinks. They thanked him, and Logan resisted the urge to dig in right then and there. It was a lot of pasta for the price, and the presentation was as pristine as any four or five-star restaurant. Before he could reach for his fork and knife, his phone chimed.
From Chris, of course. Logan's breath lodged in his throat as he let the image of the plane ticket sink in. His stomach dropped, and he wondered if time had stopped or slowed. This couldn't be real.
"Shit," Logan found himself saying, staring at the image he sent.
"Wh-What is it?" Callum asked. Logan widened his eyes, watching as Callum looked around them, then glanced down at their food. "Is something wrong with the order?"
"What? No." Logan set his phone down. "I—Uh, got a text."
"Oh." Callum nodded, glancing down at the phone.
"From my ex," Logan explained. "Chris."
"Ah."
Logan hated the silence. "He sent a picture of a plane ticket."
Callum nodded before the realization hit and his fork clacked against the plate. "To here, I'm assuming?"
"Yeah."
"Well, shit."
Logan couldn't help but laugh, despite how much he was freaking out inside. How did he know Logan was here? What was his plan on coming down here and finding him? Would he somehow track him down?
Callum cleared his throat. "Is the picture legit?"
"Yeah. It says tonight. His name, all the information is right." Logan wished it had been faked. That it was forged or photoshopped to look like a legitimate plane ticket.
"Does he know where you live or work?"
"I hope not. I didn't mention to anyone up there where I was headed. Besides my parents, nobody knew I was leaving for Los Angeles. And they wouldn't tell him. There's no way."
Callum sighed. "Well, it's a big city. The chances are—if he does show up—he won't run into you. He wouldn't be able to enter the office without a badge or permission from the higher-ups or me."
"He could run into me anywhere. From a store, coffee shop, even at my house if he somehow managed to find me."
Callum pursed his lips. "Would there be a way to get him off your back? A threat or something to hold over him?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know." Callum picked at his food before looking out the window. "Faking a boyfriend?"
"I doubt that would work." Logan rubbed his temples. "Probably would only make him angrier. He can get really persistent. I don't think there's a way to convince him not to fly down here. Especially when he's already bought a ticket."
"I could try to talk to him. Tell him to back off, threaten to call the cops?"
"No," Logan's response was quick. "I don't want this to be a big thing. Besides, it's not like he's physically done anything. There's not much the cops could do without anything solid."
Callum frowned. "Still, seems more like a threat. Especially with the intent on finding you."
"He'll probably just yell at me." Logan waved a hand in between them. "He doesn't get violent or anything. It's not like that at all."
"I didn't mean to assume," Callum trailed. "It just seems extreme to book a plane ticket. Especially to just yell at you."
"It's not like it's your business to worry about, anyway." Logan cleared his throat. "Plus, you're my boss, and this is personal. I mean, I shouldn't even be out eating a meal with you, let alone spilling my drama to you."
"Right," Callum said after a few seconds, his eyes trailing down to the food before them as he leaned back into his seat as if he had lost a chess match. "Of course."
Logan sighed. "I shouldn't have even brought him up."
Callum shook his head. "It's fine. Just a bit concerning to hear an employee of mine is dealing with something like a stalking ex. Something I quite relate to and wouldn't want anyone to deal with—shouldn't be something anyone should deal with."
Logan gulped, glancing up at Callum before focusing on the barely touched meal in front of him. Upon seeing the picture, he lost his appetite and hardly got a few forkfuls of food down. It appeared Callum wasn't all that hungry either. "Thanks for the concern. But I'll figure it out myself."
Callum nodded. "If you'd like help, I could call a few people. I know a few people from the police station, and the legal team should know some contacts."
"I can handle it," Logan said decisively. "I'm sure of it."
Callum didn't look convinced but nodded along. "Of course. I should probably ask for the check unless you'd like to order something else."
"You hardly ate."
"Neither did you. Would you like a to-go box?"
Logan shook his head as the waiter walked over with a tray of empty glasses. Callum asked for the check before glancing back at Logan. "You sure you didn't want to order anything else?"
"I'm good. Did you ask for separate checks?"
Callum blinked as if he didn't hear the question. The waiter swiftly set the bill down, collecting a few plates from the empty tables behind him. Logan struggled to pry his wallet from his pocket while Callum slid the same black card onto the receipt. Logan noticed it as he tried to slide his card out.
"Hey, I was supposed to pay." The waiter hesitated, but Callum shooed him away before Logan could slide his card out from his wallet.
"It's alright. It's easier that way."
"I'm supposed to pay you back, not the other way around."
Callum shrugged. "And I said it was fine. It's not about the money or paying me back. I just—never mind. "
He cleared his throat as if he had said too much. He took a long swig of his water before glancing anywhere but in Logan's direction.
"You what?"
"Nothing," Callum interjected, reassuringly smiling, just as the waiter returned with the receipt and card. "I do believe it's getting late. Shall we?"
Logan nodded slowly, watching as Callum fumbled, putting his card away. There was a foreign look on Callum's face, akin to unease, as he pushed his seat back, motioning to the front of the restaurant. It was a look that Logan wasn't sure how to react to; was there something wrong? Had he said something offensive at all to Callum?
Callum didn't say anything as they headed out of the restaurant; the hostess and a couple of other waiters thanked them on the way out. The air was colder than when they had first arrived, nearly as cold as Callum's words at the end. Bringing his jacket closer to his side, Logan watched as Callum fiddled with his phone, looking around for his driver presumably.
With the silence filling between them, Logan glanced at his phone, checking the time and looking back at the picture Chris had sent. He wondered if maybe it was a dream and that the dates and information were all wrong and it was a fake plane ticket Chris decided to send instead. Even as he zoomed in, the numbers and names were clear and accurate.
A car honked in the distance, the same sleek black car that Logan had seen in the parking garage, just as it pulled up to the curb. He wondered if everything Callum owned happened to be as black and sleek as this. Maybe his house and furniture were all black like some modern houses he'd seen on a home makeover show or in an architectural magazine.
Callum cleared his throat just as Logan imagined the black subway tiles, cabinets, and countertops that Callum probably had in his kitchen.
"Sorry, what were you saying?"
"I... I'd offer you a ride," Callum tilted his head in the car's direction out front. "But that's probably not the best idea, considering I've already overstepped tonight. I could pay for a taxi home if you'd like. Or I could—"
"You haven't," Logan interrupted. "Overstepped, that is. And it's fine, you've already paid for more than one meal. I was supposed to pay you back, remember?"
Callum gave him a half-smile. "That was until I made things awkward and uncomfortable for you again."
There was that word again, uncomfortable, Logan noted. Was he uncomfortable? It wasn't like he didn't feel safe or inclined to avoid the CEO. Awkward, of course; Callum was his boss still.
Logan let out a nervous laugh. "Right, well, I can pay for my taxi. Thanks for the meal, or meals in this case. We've still got work tomorrow, so we should probably get going. It's getting late and—"
"I've wasted enough of your time already, so I'll leave first if you don't mind," Callum said, his tone even and cold like when they had first met in the elevators. A tone that made Logan tilt his head. "Good night, Mr. Corbett."
Comments (8)
See all