She could practically hear the seconds ticking by—each one as crushing as the nail driving deeper into the fragile wall of self-preservation that stood between her and complete mental free fall—as she waited for Logan to show up. His cryptic, maddening text had already upended her morning, amplifying the anxiety that had kept her tossing through the night into something gnawing, insistent, chewing at her from the inside out. Her gut told her he was about to drop something outrageous in her lap. And what was more? She hadn’t built a decent plan to counter it. Not even a half-baked one. Just a plate of nerves.
The anxiety kept her incapacitated, unable to focus on anything. Even though she’d managed to drag herself to the office, she didn’t have the frame of mind to deliver the kind of life
