In my excitement over Elena getting the immediate boot, I had almost forgotten about the shit storm that was my life. But Elena’s questions made it all come rushing back to me.

“My personal life is not up for discussion,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re so damn preoccupied with men and gossip, no wonder your professional skills haven’t improved.” I turned on my heels and quickly left the room before she could spout off anything else to me.

I walked down the hallway and straight to Maria’s desk. “Snacks,” I said when I reached her. “I need ‘em.”

Without a word she got up and walked with me to the pantry. She knew when I said I needed snacks that I was not in the mood for conversation. When we walked through the pantry door, I let out a surprised gasp.

The normally empty pantry was all abuzz. Several women stood around, talking to each other, flipping ferociously through magazines, scrolling quickly on their phones.

“What is happening?” I said to Maria, who shrugged.

I pushed my way through the crowd of women to the shelf that held the chocolate bars. As I did, I caught snippets of conversations:

“…I heard he’s really into blondes…”

“…I bet he only dates socialites, there’s no way he would ever date anyone from this company…”

“…he has his own private jet? I’d kill for a man with a jet…”

“…oh, if only I could find a man half as rich and sexy as he is!”

I grabbed my favorite caramel-filled bar off the shelf and snuck a glance at the nearest open magazine. It was an article all about the lavish lifestyle of our new CEO. I couldn’t help but laugh. These women were dying for a shot with Logan. They were going to be devastated to learn that he was married.

Maria and I slipped back out of the pantry. As soon as its occupants were out of earshot, I shook my head at her. “Did you hear all that? Everyone’s going crazy over this new CEO.”

Maria shrugged, a grin forming over her lips. “I mean…can you blame them?”

“Oh Maria, not you too!”

She laughed. “Are you telling me you don’t find him attractive?”

“No, I’m not saying that. I mean sure, he is handsome but…” I looked around to make sure the coast was clear. I lowered my voice. “He’s married. And quite happily, it seems.”

“Oh,” Maria frowned. “He’s so young, isn’t he? I’m surprised someone as young and wealthy as him got married so soon in his life.”

I shrugged. “I wonder what she’s like? She must be pretty amazing to make him give up the bachelor lifestyle I hear he’s so well-known for. And speaking of surprising things…”

As we started walking back towards my desk, I told Maria all about Elena’s immediate elimination as candidate for Logan’s assistant. By the time we reached my desk, Maria was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face.

“Add ‘expert at spotting gold diggers’ to Logan’s resume,” she laughed.

“I was surprised he could spot anything past the amount of cleavage she brought in with her,” I said as I sat at my desk. I pulled my purse from the bottom drawer and took out my phone to check for messages. I frowned when I saw the only one was a missed call from my mother.

“What’s wrong?” Maria asked. I showed her the phone. She frowned. “Oof. That’s a mood killer. Good luck.” She gave me a sympathetic smile, then turned and walked back towards her desk.

I sighed and pushed the button to return her call. Might as well get it over with.

“Hazel, where have you been?”

“Well gee mom, I have this little thing I like to do every day called work.”

As usual, she ignored my sarcasm. “I need you to go to the airport and pick up Natalie. She’s getting in at 6:00 from her guest role in that TV series you love so much.”

I inwardly groaned. “Yeah, mom, I know where she’s been.” Mom just loved throwing in digs whenever she could, to remind me that Natalie was successful in all the ways I wanted to, but couldn’t, be.

“So you’ll pick her up?”

“I don’t think I really have a choice.”

“Thank you dear, see you at home.” She hung up without waiting for a good-bye.

I rubbed my temples. God I wanted a place of my own. Ever since I had to move back in with my parents and Natalie they all treated me like their personal assistant. But rent was so damn high, I didn’t really have any other options.

I opened the top drawer of my desk to grab a pen and sticky note. I froze when I saw the mystery ring that I had thrown in there after my Vegas trip. In the roller coaster that today had been, I had forgotten all about it. It had to be a toy…but where did I get it from?

“I guess what happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas,” I muttered to myself, sneaking the ring into my purse. The last thing I needed was for someone in the office to find it and start more rumors about me.

My irritation grew as I sat waiting for Natalie at arrivals. I’d been waiting for nearly an hour at this point. I already didn’t want to be there, and now I was giving up my entire night off waiting for the last person on earth I wanted to see.

The flash of the fake ring in my purse caught my eye. I pulled it out and popped it into my glove compartment. I wasn’t quite sure why I wanted to keep something that came from the Vegas trip from hell, but I was weirdly attached to it. It did come from my one night of rebellion, sleeping with a mystery man. Maybe I kind of liked that I had that in me.

Natalie finally burst through the doors of the airport. I hated how amazing she looked after such a long flight. She looked around, her hair falling perfectly in place with every turn of her head. I honked my horn to get her attention.

I popped my trunk as she came closer with her cart full of luggage. I could see her standing at the back of my car, waiting for me to get out and help her with it, but I certainly would not be doing that. Finally some guys spotted her and ran over to help, because of course they would.

She got into the passenger’s seat, and I pulled out without a word to her. We hadn’t spoken since the Vegas trip. I both had too much and nothing to say to her. It was ten very awkward minutes before either of us spoke.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask me about my trip?” She asked.

I shook my head and laughed. The audacity of this woman. “Oh, forgive me for being so rude. How was your trip? Steal any more men from anyone?”

She smirked. “Oh, this again.”

“Yeah, sorry that I’m not over what you did to me in Vegas. You stole my boyfriend, Natalie. You are always taking things from me. Why do you do that? Do you like torturing me?” My irritation turned to fury.

Natalie rolled her eyes at me. “You should have been more accommodating to me on that trip. You are my sister after all.” She picked at her nails, seemingly annoyed that we were even having this conversation. “Besides. This is an issue with you. You should ask yourself what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you more deserving of your boyfriend proposing to you? I get proposals all the time. It is not that hard.”

My eyes almost popped out of my head. Did she really just say those words to me?

“I need a tissue,” Natalie said and popped open my glove box. Both of our eyes went straight to the ring I had just put in there. She gasped.

“This must be at least ten carets!” She pulled it out. “Where did this come from?”

My heart sank. Looked like Natalie just found the next thing she was going to take from me.

I sat in annoyed, stunned silence. My one memento from my crazy Vegas night. Why didn’t I hide it better from her?

“Hellooooo? Earth to Hazel?” Natalie poked me in the arm.

“It’s…it’s just a toy,” I said, trying to will her to put it back in the glove compartment and drop the whole subject.

Her eyes grew wide, a look of revelation crossing her face. “Oh my god. Did you buy yourself a ring because you didn’t get the one you wanted from your man? Hazel, this is a new low, even for you. This sad desperation is exactly why you are in the position you are in.”

I stared hard at the road ahead of me, silently fuming. She put the ring on her own left hand ring finger and held it out in front of her, admiring it.

“It is beautiful, even though it was a pathetic purchase on your part. I think I’ll keep it, use it for some of the promotional photoshoots I have coming up.”

Called that one. I shook my head. No use trying to plead with her to leave it behind. Satan himself has more empathy than my sister does.

“Oh, I have to tell Rachel about this, she’s going to die,” she pulled out her phone and called her best friend, the same one who got to witness the fatal Vegas proposal. “Rachel, you are not going to believe the pathetic thing Hazel’s done now.”

I tried to tune her out as she mercilessly mocked me for buying a toy ring. I wanted to tell her I didn’t buy it, but not knowing its actual origin story would have made me just sound like I was lying. Hot tears welled in the corner of my eyes.

“Oh my god, now she’s crying!” Natalie laughed as she updated her friend.

I pulled into my parents’ neighborhood and parked at the bottom of our driveway. I wordlessly got out, pulled her luggage from the trunk, and set it on the ground. Natalie had also gotten out of the car, but in her true fashion, just talked on the phone while I did all the work.

“I know,” she said into the phone. “She’s so sad.” She looked right at me.

I looked up at the house. I couldn’t bear the thought of going in. Of dragging the tons of luggage up the driveway and into her room, then sitting down to a dinner where surely more mocking would ensue once my parents heard about the fake ring Natalie had found.

“Well?” Natalie pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to scold me. “Are you going to bring that up or just stand there with that blank dumb stare?”

My mind was made up in that moment. No way I could go into that house right now.

“I have to go back to work. I have some things I need to get done,” I said, leaving her and her luggage where they stood and getting back into the car.

As I drove away, I looked at her in the rearview mirror. I smirked.

Who has the blank dumb stare now?

My first stop at work was the pantry. I needed to grab the magazines everyone had earlier that contained interviews and articles about Logan, but more importantly, I needed chocolate fuel for the night ahead.

I had resolved on my drive in that I would throw myself into my work to stay as far away from my family as possible. Maybe if I nailed these assessments and got the new position, I’d get a bigger paycheck and could finally move out on my own again.

And tonight, that meant planning the perfect date for Logan and his wife.

Several hours later, I awoke with a start.

My face was stuck to the magazine that laid open on my desk. I sat up and groggily ripped the magazine off my cheek. The video player on my computer was still going, playing the very long speech I had found that Logan gave at a seminar the year before. It must have been what knocked me out.

I felt very underprepared for the next day, despite the hours of research I had put in. It wasn’t for a lack of material on him - quite the opposite. There was tons to be learned about the man online, between all the interviews and articles and gossip columns about him, and in the scores of magazines the women in the office had purchased. But nothing that gave me any real clear ideas on what kind of date he would enjoy taking his wife on. He seemed to be a workaholic alpha male with very little emotion or personality in that hot, hot bod of his.

He also seemed to be quite the ladies man, with a different woman (or women…) cozied up to him in every picture I found. I hated to agree with Elena, but she was right. It was hard to believe that he was a married man.

I yawned as I entered the conference room the next day. The other candidates were already there, to my surprise. I was 30 minutes early myself, how long had everyone else been here?

“Good morning,” I said as I sat down with them at the table. They all greeted me in return.

“Did everyone come up with a date idea?” Ethan asked the group.

“Uh, yeah, I have some ideas,” I said, putting my purse on the table in front of me and setting my notebook and pen beside it.

“Just some simple, average date things,” my coworker Joan said.

Gary nodded in agreement. “Yeah, same here. I just have a few basic ideas I’ll pitch to him.”

Ethan turned a slight shade of green. I’d never seen him look so nervous.

“I’m going to grab something from the pantry,” I said, standing. “Anyone want anything?”

Everyone shook their head no and I headed to the pantry. Just minutes after I entered and began making myself a cup of coffee, Ethan came in breathless, like he had run to catch up to me.

“Ethan, are you okay?”

“I need your help. I’m no good with the dating thing, I have zero ideas for Logan. Do you have any tips for me?”

Ethan was normally a fairly confident individual, it was hard seeing him look so pitiful and desperate. I felt for him.

“Well. I feel like Logan would prefer a private setting in a cozy environment. Maybe an art gallery or a museum would suit him well,” I said, giving the best advice I could from the hours of unhelpful material I had studied.

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you, Hazel! You are a life saver,” he said, hugging me before he left.

Later that day, Logan gathered his four candidates into the conference room to hear our date ideas.

I had walked in the room feeling okay with my idea until I saw that all three of my competitors had prepared formal presentations. My heart skipped a beat. That morning they all made it sound as though they just had some ideas rattling around in their brains that they would pitch, not whole-ass presentations.

I sat down and closed my eyes. Oh my god, I have already blown it.

Ethan got up first to present his date idea. “Logan, as a man that is very much in the public eye, I felt you would prefer a more private setting for your dates.”

I sat up straighter in my seat. Did he just say what I thought he said?

“My plan for your evening,” Ethan continued, “is a date at the local art museum, after hours, so you can enjoy the exhibits in an intimate setting with your lovely wife.”

I shot daggers at Ethan. My tips were meant to inspire him, not to be stolen completely by him. My anger turned to panic when I realized I needed to change my pitch. I didn’t want Logan to think I had taken Ethan’s idea.

But how was I going to come up with a brand new date idea in less than ten minutes when the first one took me an entire night?

Ethan continued his pitch - my pitch, actually - but I couldn’t bear to listen to any more of it. I forced myself to tune him out so I could try and come up with something else before my turn.

I cast a curious eye over at Logan. He had raised an eyebrow and seemed pretty interested in the date Ethan was pitching. I furrowed my brows and crossed my arms. I knew I had stumbled onto a good date idea. I couldn’t believe the nerve of Ethan, stealing my idea when I was trying to help him.

Gary stood next to give his date idea proposal. He had everything one needed for the perfect pitch: slideshow, one of those fancy pointer sticks, trifold display board with photographs, he even dropped rose petals on the ground in front of him and turned on some soft romantic music to set the mood.

Damn it, Gary was good. I felt like I should excuse myself from the running as Logan’s assistant right then and there. These pitches were so over the top and I had absolutely nothing.

Gary started his slideshow. “Picture it: you, your wife, and your private jet.” He clicked to the next slide. “You take her for a romantic flight, and at the end you can both watch a drone show from the comfort of your jet.” The slideshow ended with a demonstration of what the drone show would look like.

Logan didn’t say a word. He looked at Joan.

“Oh, but I’m not done…” Gary started.

Logan just raised a brow at him and pointed to Gary’s empty seat. He hung his head and began packing up his display.

Man Logan was just as cold as his demeanor indicated. If he didn’t even like that well-planned pitch, I didn’t stand a chance.

Joan took Gary’s place at the front of the room. She set up her display board on the stand and set up props around it: a jar of sand, seashells, candles. “What is more romantic than an evening at the beach?” She pointed to a photo of the beach on her board. “My idea is for you to rent out the entire nearby Lake Kent beachfront. You throw your wife a lavish party to celebrate your first official date, then you whisk her away to another part of the beach, where the two of you enjoy a nice, candlelit dinner.”

Logan’s brows furrowed at that suggestion. He discreetly glanced at his watch. He was hard to read, with his permanent cold demeanor, but I got the feeling he was not too interested in either of those ideas.

Joan smiled at Logan at the end of her pitch. He ignored her.

“Ethan,” he said, turning to him. “Your art museum idea. Is there anything else it entails?”

Joan’s shoulders slumped forward, disappointed that she didn’t get any sort of reaction from Logan.

“Oh! Uh…” Ethan looked at me, but I shot him a “don’t even” glare and shook my head. His face turned beet red, and he floundered and stammered for a moment. “Perhaps also the museum director could give you a personal tour?”

Logan’s face fell at that suggestion. It was clear that he was not into any of the extravagant, over-the-top date ideas my colleagues had presented.

“Hazel?” Logan turned to me.

My heart pounded in my chest. I slowly moved to stand in front of the room. Joan was still in the process of removing her props and board. “You’ll have to forgive me sir, I did not prepare a formal pitch like everyone else. But I do have some ideas.”

“The floor is yours,” Logan said.

“Well sir, I did quite a bit of research on you last night,” I was stalling, hoping that my rambling would help me come up with an amazing date idea. “What I read lead me to believe that you would prefer a more private, cozy date setting.”

He gave a small nod, and that was all the encouragement I needed to ramble on.

“I also read that you love to listen to and play ‘The Streets of Dublin,’ a song that is often played in small taverns, and that you draw strength from the melody of this song.”

A lightbulb finally turned on in my brain. “I believe the perfect first date with your wife would be to take her to your favorite local tavern, Flannigan’s. Since you frequent it, according to the article I read in The Business of Business magazine, the bartender already knows you and exactly what you like.

Logan’s face began to soften, giving me the courage to go on. “You wouldn’t even have to exchange a word. He would bring you and your lovely wife drinks and you would feel like you had the whole place to yourselves.”

As I described the date, I found myself imagining that I was the woman in the scenario. Was I describing his perfect date or mine?

I continued, suddenly remembering another pastime he said he loved but rarely got to do: play piano for others while they dance and sing. “Then, after a few drinks, you could get on the piano and play that song you love, to introduce your wife to it. Perhaps she could even dance along while you play.”

I paused, searching for the perfect words to sum up who I imagined Logan might be underneath that cold, playboy exterior. “Because, sir, the most important thing about the first date isn’t the formality, it’s the ‘heart’ of it.”

Everyone in the room became so silent and still, you could hear a pin drop. All eyes were frozen on me.

Logan’s cold expression disappeared, and in its place was one that was teasing and flirty. My heart leapt and my cheeks flushed - a reaction that completely took me by surprise.

But before he could respond to my pitch, Logan’s cell phone rang.

“Jeffrey, hi,” he answered. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper as he crossed to a corner of the room. I strained to eavesdrop, as I’m sure everyone in the room was doing. “Do you have a lead on Vegas?” Logan asked. My heart skipped a beat at the word Vegas.

“Yes, we found the ring,” the voice was faint, but I could still make out what was being said on the other end of the phone call from where I stood. “It’s exactly the same. Looks like we found her.”

Found her? Who was “her?” Everything I learned about Logan was a really strange mystery to me.

“Great work,” Logan said. “I’ll come confirm it with you in a moment.” He smiled and hung up the phone. An actual smile. I wished he hadn’t, it made him a million times more attractive.

He walked over and stood close to me, staring hard into my eyes. He clutched my shoulders with his hands and gave me that smiley, flirty look again. My heart began to beat fast and hard and my palms began to sweat.

Why did I suddenly feel like a shy, nerdy high schooler who was being hit on by the out-of-my-league prom king?