Chapter two

Lily's eyes widened, and a wave of panic washed over her as her surroundings came into sharp focus. This was no dream. She had actually woken up in Logan Carter's bed. A man she had admired from afar for months, who didn't even know she existed. 

The room was vast, with towering ceilings that made her feel even smaller. The air was too cold with the kind of artificial chill that came from hidden vents.

There was no way of knowing if it was still dark out or not with the thick, black curtains that were designed to block out light of any sort. Everything was sleek, modern, and oppressively expensive. Completely different from what she had ever seen, even with the glimpses she saw of the Brownsons' home.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt the heat rise to her face. How in the world had she ended up here? More importantly, how had this even happened without her remembering a single thing?

Her body ached and the more the fear raced through her veins, the more she felt the aching.

Logan, still watching her with a mixture of suspicion and disgust, pulled the blanket around himself, suddenly very aware of the implications of the situation, the movement jerked it away from her own body a little so she steadfastly held on to her side of it, sitting up starkly. His eyes were sharp, filled with anger. "What. The. Hell," he said, each word dripping with barely controlled rage. "Who are you, and what did you do?"

Lily blinked, her mouth dry. "I—I didn't do anything!" she stammered, finally finding her voice, though it wavered. "I don't even know how I got here. I swear, I didn't—"

Logan cut her off, his expression darkening further. "You expect me to believe that? That you just happened to end up in my bed?" He glared at her, as if daring her to come up with a plausible excuse.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, feeling utterly lost. She didn't have an explanation—at least not one that made sense. The last thing she remembered was attending an exclusive event with her best friend. After that, things got blurry. She rubbed her temples, trying to think.

It was obvious they had slept together, she could remember that part clearly, but how did she lose her memories of how it happened? The more she thought about it, the more the events of the night before began to appear in her mind. 

She wasn't supposed to even be at the event, after all, in the world of the wealthy and important, she was neither. Her best friend Bianca, had snuck her an invite, and got her in as usual. She hadn't wanted to go, but Bianca had been really adamant that she attended the event. 

Lily had accepted the invite, hoping she'd get a chance to glimpse at Logan, but he was nowhere to be found. Other important people were though, and her dress made it obvious she didn't belong, because while the socialite women – her best friend included – were wearing branded clothes and elegant evening gowns, she wore her best green evening gown that looked more like it belonged in dinner with the family rather than a socialist event.

Her father was there too, alongside Lucille, and they were surrounded by their friends. Smartly, Lily had avoided them, until they saw her themselves, and Henry decided it was a good idea to reduce her self-esteem to smithereens by proclaiming that she was an unemployed bastard maid who his family had helped, right in front of his friends.

She couldn't deny it, she couldn't say she was in fact employed, because for one, her job didn't match the level of the people who were supposed to be in there anyways, and secondly, he would absolutely find a way to get her fired.

All she could do was extricate herself from the murmurs to cry privately. Bianca had disappeared about halfway through, complaining of a stomach ache, so she couldn't be there to make her laugh it off.

She had gone into a private looking room and sat on one of the high comfortable chairs, putting her head on the table to cry. It was closed off and it was perfect.

"I swear, I wasn't trying to—" she started again, her voice trembling.

"You drugged me," Logan stated coldly, his eyes narrowing as if he had already made up his mind about what had happened. "That's the only explanation that makes sense."

"What? No!" Lily's shock quickly morphed into fury. How dare he accuse her of that? "I would never—are you insane?! I'm not some… some predator!" She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling more defensive by the second.

Logan's gaze flicked over her body briefly, a look of frustration flashing across his face as the blanket nearly slipped off her chest. He snapped his attention back to her face. "Then what's your explanation? Because from where I'm standing, this looks a lot like a setup."

"I don't have an explanation!" she shouted, her temper flaring. "All I remember is getting invited to that event last night and attending with my friend. I was enjoying myself alone until—" She stopped, not wanting to bring up the humiliating scene with her father. Logan didn't need to know about that.

"Until what?" Logan pressed, his tone hard.

"Until I wandered off. I needed some air and I guess I stumbled into some closed-off section. That's all I remember!" She paused, biting her lip in frustration. "But I didn't do anything to you. I wouldn't."

Logan stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers as if he were trying to read her soul. His jaw clenched tightly, muscles in his neck standing out as he processed her words. He clearly didn't trust her.

"I don't even know you, what's your family name?" he muttered, almost to himself. "We've never met before."

Lily bit her lip, feeling the painful irony of his statement. She had watched him for months, knowing more about his daily routine than she should have. He had been a constant figure in her thoughts, a distant fantasy she could never act on. And now here she was, in his bed, of all places. 

The wealthy were confusing and surprising. He asked for her family name, automatically assuming he couldn't have gone home with someone who wasn't a socialite. 

"My name is Lily, I know you," she blurted before she could stop herself, then winced. "I mean… I don't know you, but I know who you are. You're Logan Carter. My boss."

Logan's eyes narrowed even more. "Your boss? Who the hell are you?"

Lily groaned inwardly, feeling the situation spiral further out of control. "I work for Carter Industries," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes widened in fury and his expression seemed to ask exactly what job she did for Carter industries.

 "I'm… an assistant on the second floor."

The room was silent for a beat, and then Logan's face twisted into a combination of disbelief and anger. "You're one of those employees?" His voice was filled with disgust. "Great. Just great."

"Look, I didn't plan this!" Lily protested. "I didn't even know—"

"You think you can climb up a ladder that high by drugging me?", he asked, the anger and vitriol in his voice making Lily even angrier.

"For all I know you were the one that took advantage of me! Did you kidnap me and think no one would know?", Lily started, her mouth running faster than her brain could comprehend.

"Get out," Logan interrupted, his voice cold as ice. "Get out of my bed. Get out of my house. I don't care where you go, just get out."

Lily's heart dropped at his words. She scrambled out of the bed, clutching the blanket around her as she fumbled for her clothes. This wasn't how she'd imagined ever interacting with Logan. Not that she had imagined it would ever happen at all.

He didn't let go of his side of the blanket, so she couldn't get past the edge of the bed. She bit the inside of her cheek and pulled. "At least fucking let go", she exclaimed. She could feel the beginning of tears threatening to pool in her eyes and she refused to let anyone see her cry. It was a vow she had made after many years of nothing else to do except crying.

Logan glared at her and reached over the bedside table, turning off the little elegant yellow lamps with a single switch, coating the room in darkness. The blanket felt lax now, clearly he wanted to pull on his own clothes too.

She patted across the floor for her clothes, not feeling anything, until she felt the material against the large desk at the side of the room.

As she pulled on her dress, still shaking from the confrontation, she shut her eyes tightly. Why did her life have to be terrible things happening one after another without even a little break? She pulled on her shoes and then a bright white light was turned on abruptly, hurting her eyes terribly.

She stood up straight and chanced a look at Logan as she picked up her purse, there was anger and frustration and something more personal in his eyes. He was in an emerald green shirt with rolled up sleeves and black slacks, completely dressed already. He was also glaring at her chest and she looked down to see that there was a rip in her dress. A rip was too generous a name to call it. It was more like something had savagely torn it. 

Embarassed, she lifted her purse to cover it. Logan scoffed and opened the door to what seemed like a closet, except it was chocked full of the coats he liked wearing on cold mornings. He threw one at her uncaringly and Lily caught it, both humiliated and grateful, before walking out of the room, her breath coming out shallow and her heart pounding in her ears.

She didn't even know the layout of the house but she would rather be anywhere else except in the same room with Logan again right then. Walking came uneasily to her but she bore the soreness and the ordeal of nodding and keeping her head down as people in butler suits and housekeeper wear kept bowing, possibly thinking she was an important guest.

This nightmare of a morning wasn't over yet, and she had a feeling things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.