Amy suddenly decides to join the rest of the world and finally acknowledges my existence. Not, of course, in any civilized manner. “Oh my God! What happened to your face? You look terrible.” Her words are as fake as her blonde hair and pathetic personality.
My embarrassment is palpable as I look desperately around for any excuse to leave their table. I find nothing and abruptly give a bizarre nod of my head before turning heel and heading back to the kitchen. Sometimes I just can’t act normal to save my life.
I realize, as I’m halfway down the corridor to the kitchen, Logan is behind me. I keep moving, suddenly sure I have some sort of food stuck to my butt and completely unsure what to do next. He makes that decision for me by catching up to me, taking me by the elbow, and pulling me into a small side hallway.
“She didn’t mean anything by that, Row,” he starts as he turns me to face him.
I open my mouth to object but then think better of the decision. He’s done a lot for me and insulting his girlfriend isn’t the best way to make it up to him. Besides, disagreeing with him will only put him in a position to make a choice between us. He will either support the mega bitch or me. He doesn’t owe me any allegiance, and why should I care anyway? It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. If he wants to be enamored with the blonde bombshell, so be it. Oh, who am I kidding? I do care, and I’m not at all sure I want to know how he would choose. I settle on the non-response, resorting to staring at the ground. I sense him staring at me, waiting patiently for my response.
“Why did you come here?”
“I wanted to make sure you got here okay.”
“Well, you can see that I did. Will you please leave now? The food here sucks and…”
“Why are you trying to get us to leave? We just got here, and I’m hungry.”
“Because, it’s … it’s humiliating being seen in this stupid outfit and having to work around you.” My eyes widen as I realize what I just blurted out.
Logan contemplates this as embarrassment burns through my cheeks. There are many long, awkward moments of silence where I know without looking at him that his eyes are trained on me.
“Well, I happen to like seeing you in this little getup, and having you serve me seems quite appropriate after the night you put me through.” And at that, he reaches his hand up to the front rim of my beret and flips it with his finger.
Looking nervously to his eyes, I see he is smirking down at me. He’s enjoying himself. I can’t help but smile back at him. He’s just so beautiful, and I wish again that I was one of the beautiful ones, too. Just once.
I manage to get them through dinner without dropping anything or humiliating myself further, though I can feel Logan’s eyes on me as I move through the restaurant tending to other tables. I’m sure he’s thinking, “This little girl is hardly worth my trouble.” And I can’t help but feel ashamed that he knows so many awful things about me. When they finally leave, I’m relieved to see them go. It is the first time my body hasn’t stood at attention since catching sight of him. My shoulders instantly slump, I stop sticking my pathetic mosquito bites out trying to pretend I have breasts, and I let my body relax. How pathetic am I? The rest of the evening is a blur, and I’m glad when ten o’clock finally rolls around. We finish up quickly, and I head for the door.
As I enter the back parking lot through the employee entrance door, I immediately notice my bike is not leaned up against the dumpster where I left it. I then become aware of Logan’s Cherokee parked by the other employees’ cars. He’s standing leaning against the hood of his Jeep, talking on his cell phone. When he looks up and sees me approaching, he wraps up his call.
“You ready to go?”
“Go where? I thought you were on a date.” I suddenly have posture and boobs again by the time I reach him.
“I decided to make it an early night. Besides, I felt bad about what Amy said to you earlier. She doesn’t always understand the meaning of tact, and you didn’t deserve to be put on the spot that way. Get in.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Where are we going?”
“To get you an overnight bag from your house. You’re not staying there tonight.”
“Oh, I’m not? Logan, I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. If you want my silence, then here’s the way it’s going to be. Any night, regardless of what night of the week it may be, that your father goes to the bar, you will stay at my apartment. The only exception is when you have plans to stay with Sara. No one except for us will know about this, and that includes Sara. She can’t keep her mouth shut, and the last thing I need is my parents finding out, or worse yet, the DA’s office. I have a spare bedroom that will be yours, and you can leave anything you need there so you can come over anytime, even when you can’t get home for your stuff.”
He grabs my hand without taking his eyes from mine, unfolds my fingers gently with his own, and places a key in my outstretched palm. And while I’m stunned to the point of being shocked at what he’s saying, I still note the shiver that runs through my body at his lingering touch on my skin.
“This is yours in case you are unable to get hold of me and need to get into the apartment. Oh, and here.” He hands me a cell phone. “It’s a prepaid phone, and my home and cell numbers are already programmed in. I don’t care who you give the number to, but I want you to use it anytime you need to reach me. No more payphones in the middle of the night. I’ll take care of adding minutes when you need them.”
I’m sure my mouth is gaping as he’s speaking, but this is unreal, and more than that, unacceptable. As if it’s not bad enough I’ve allowed myself to be supported by his parents, now I have Logan managing my life.
I start to protest he is doing too much when he cuts me off. “I’m sure you think this is open to negotiation, but I assure you it’s not. I’ve been considering this since you left today, and I will accept nothing else. If I’m going to risk your safety and my ethical conscience by keeping your secret, you will give me the assurances I want.” He pauses, staring at me for some seconds before continuing. “Do we have a deal?”
What reasonable choice do I have? I fumble and stutter to get the words out. “Yes. Yes … But … but I feel bad that you are doing so much. I can’t…”
“Why don’t you just say ‘thanks’ and leave it at that? Okay?” He smiles a gentle and reassuring smile at my concern.
“Thank you. I mean it, Logan. I really appreciate you doing this.”
“I know you do. Of course, I have a contract you’ll be required to sign.” He raises a brow as he rounds the front of the Jeep to the driver’s door. There, he stops and watches my slack-jawed expression with amusement before letting me off the hook. “Relax. I’m just kidding. Now get in. I’d like to be in and out of your house before he gets home.”
We head toward the Elm Crest Trailer Park and my trailer. The house is dark when we arrive, and my father’s car is missing. I’m embarrassed to let Logan see the inside of our old, dilapidated, ugly trailer, and I try to get him to wait in the car while I run in. He refuses. Awesome. We enter and go straight to my room. I collect a couple pairs of pajamas, the ones that aren’t too ugly and tattered for him to see, and clothes for the next day. He stands by looking around at the wood paneled walls, disgusting dirty carpet, and outdated decor. I can tell he’s not impressed with our decorating sense.
When we finally reach his apartment, it is late. His apartment is a renovated old brownstone in the downtown area of our little burg. When the Harringtons bought this complex five years before, it was in desperate need of renovation. Logan spent an entire summer helping his father fix up the apartment complex every evening after Marcus finished up at the law office. Even Sara and I helped with some of the work we could do. Marcus has a huge woodworking shop at their house and loves doing this type of work. The result: a beautifully restored building that has its original character blended with a contemporary style to create one of the most sought after buildings in town.