One night later, I’d jumped from one end of the dining spectrum to the other. Logan and I were at the fundraising gala, sitting in the middle of the nicest room I’d ever seen. It was as far from McDonald’s as you could get.
There were no fluorescent lights here. The ballroom was lit with crystal chandeliers hanging from gold-trimmed ceilings. The gleaming floors, not littered with fallen fries, were made from Italian marble. And the tables were covered in silk linens. I wouldn’t dare drop a blob of ketchup off my hand-painted plate.
“Would you like more champagne?” Logan asked, leaning over to speak in my ear.
“Yes, please.” Champagne made me loose-lipped, so I normally avoided it, but since I didn’t have much to say tonight, that wouldn’t be a problem.
He signaled to a waiter, who brought over a tray of champagne in crystal flutes. With my new glass in place, Logan kissed my cheek, then turned to continue his conversation with the man sitting on his other side.
We were seated at an elegant round table with a tall floral arrangement in the center. The china had delicate floral patterns and was adorned with real gold. And there were enough utensils in front of me to make one of my bird’s nests, maybe two.
I sipped my champagne, listening to the murmur of conversation.
We’d arrived a few hours ago, and I’d maybe said three sentences in all that time. Nice to meet you when I’d been introduced to a slew of people whose names I’d immediately forgotten. Thank you when I was complimented on my gown. Yes, please when I’d been offered a glass of champagne.
All through the cocktail hour, I’d forced a pleasant smile. My cheeks hurt by the time we sat down at our table and not in a good way, like when I’d been laughing for too long. After the dinner service started, I did my best to keep up with the conversation, but after thirty minutes of listening to name dropping and vacation plans to foreign countries I’d never see, I zoned out.
Logan hadn’t noticed. He was currently in a deep discussion with three men on our side of the table. For an hour, they’d been discussing some change to a stock market regulation and how it would impact the foundation’s investment strategy.
So here I was, silently drinking champagne and waiting for the next round of food to be delivered in hopes it would curb the major buzz I was working.
In this room full of people, smiling and laughing, I was alone.
It had been years since I’d felt this empty hole in my chest. The last time I’d been this lonely had been after Jackson had moved to Montana. But I knew this feeling well. It was the same one I’d had nearly every night of my childhood when I’d climbed into my tiny cot without anyone to tuck me in or wish me sweet dreams. The same feeling I’d had when another child in the orphanage would get adopted into a family and leave me behind.
By the time I’d turned seventeen, I’d been the only kid left in that home. Why I hadn’t been sent to a foster home was still a mystery, but somehow, the orphanage had stayed open. It had just been me and the director living there, though I rarely saw her emerge from her apartment in the basement.
Hazel would come in for a few hours to make me meals. She’d spend time with me after school, helping me with homework, but eventually, she’d have to go home. Jackson could only stay until dark. So after they’d leave, it would just be me roaming the halls without anything to do but read. The director could afford electricity for the entire building but not a television to keep me entertained.
I’d finally escaped the loneliness in Lark Cove.
“You hate this, don’t you?”
“Huh?” I turned to Nolan Fennessy, who was sitting on my other side. “Oh, no. Not at all,” I lied. “I’m, uh . . . just taking it all in.” I didn’t want to confess to Logan’s coworker that I’d rather be a hundred other places than in this ballroom.
He saw through my lie and grinned. “My wife hates coming to these too. She told me last year she’d approve of me finding a stand-in woman just so she could stay home in her yoga pants.”
I smiled, the first real smile of the night. “I think your wife and I could be best friends.”
“She accompanies me every once in a while, but normally I come with Logan. You stole my date.”
“Sorry.” I laughed. “You can have him back for the next one.”
“Not sticking around?”
“No, I’m leaving after the weekend.” I chased down a pang of guilt with another sip of champagne.
Leaving was the right thing to do, for all of us. Trying to fit square pegs into round holes never worked. But ever since I’d come to that realization yesterday, I’d had a miserable ache in my heart.
The ache twisted and tugged every time I tried to sort through my feelings. When it came time to end this, Logan would demand an explanation. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of one that he wouldn’t shred to pieces.
How did I tell him that I loved him, but I wouldn’t uproot my life and fit it into his?
It didn’t make sense in my head.
But it did in my heart.
I knew Logan couldn’t give up everything here to move to Montana. I wouldn’t ask him to. So for us to be together, I had to give.
It was tempting. All I had to do was change my address, but the idea of moving here made me sick. Yet so did the thought of leaving Logan.
“Where’s Charlie tonight?” Nolan asked. “You didn’t leave her with his family, did you?”
“Uh . . . no.” I gave him a sideways glance. “She’s at the penthouse with Piper. But now I’m even more nervous about meeting his parents. Thanks for that.”
Nolan chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. They’re great people. But I’m sure Charlie will have a much better night with Piper. She loves kids and has been chomping at the bit to spend time with Logan’s daughter. Charlie will have much more fun with Piper than she would at the Kendrick estate. It’s, shall we say, stuffy.”
Stuffy. As in rich. As in don’t touch the valuables. I made a mental note to talk to Charlie in private before we went to the estate tomorrow. I didn’t want her playing with anything that I couldn’t afford to replace if broken.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please have your attention.” The emcee took the stage in the middle of the dance floor and began his spiel.
Logan had told me the fundraiser was for an organization dedicated to improving the quality of life for people below the poverty line. After ten minutes of the speaker’s pitch, I’d had enough and it had just started.
On and on he droned, talking about how the poor people in the city, or “the unfortunate,” desperately needed the donations from “New York’s finest.” The irony of my entire situation ruined my appetite. I didn’t touch a bit of the salmon sashimi with olive lemon-mustard emulsion. When he began speaking about how there were people in the city going without phones or internet service, the “essentials,” I nearly choked on my mango parfait.
“Puke,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Logan asked, leaning in closer.
“Sorry.” Damn you, champagne. “I meant to say that in my head.”
Nolan must have heard me too because he chuckled. “You don’t approve of the message?”
I scoffed. “You know what ‘the unfortunate’ need? Essentials. Real essentials. Enough food so they can eat three times a day, every day. They need enough quarters to go to the laundry mat every week. They need tampons, for Christ’s sake. What they don’t need are some rich people sitting in a ballroom feeling sorry for them because they don’t have internet or cable TV.”
I ended my rant on a huff, then looked up from the spoon I’d been clutching in my fist. All eyes around the table were on me.
“Thea.” Logan put his hand on my knee.
Goddamn it. I knew this would happen. I knew I’d embarrass him. I didn’t belong here and I had no clue how to act or what to say.
The sting of tears pricked my eyes, but I couldn’t cry in front of these people.
“Excuse me,” I whispered, setting down my spoon.
Before Logan could protest, I was out of my chair, walking as quickly as I could in my uncomfortable heels to the back of the ballroom. I slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the hallway was empty.
“Don’t cry.” I looked up at the ceiling and took a long breath. Then another. When the sting in my nose eased, I clicked down the hall toward the restroom.
I opened the door and hurried through the sitting room to the actual restroom. Then I picked the middle mirror and checked my face.
Despite the sick feeling in my stomach, at least I looked pretty.
Whoever my parents were, I owed them one bit of thanks. They’d given me thick hair and flawless skin. I didn’t have to wear much makeup, usually just eyeliner and mascara. And my hair had a natural sheen most women couldn’t pay for.
Logan had offered to bring in a stylist for me tonight, but I’d opted to get ready myself. Charlie had sat on the counter in his bathroom, watching as I’d carefully applied eyeshadow, blush and lipstick. Then I’d straightened my hair into shining panels that hung down my back.
And though I’d been in such a rush to pick this dress yesterday, it was gorgeous. The top had a simple, sleeveless cut with a crew neckline. It was covered with fine lace, giving it an elegant touch. Only the front had a strip of lace missing, running from the collar down my cleavage to right above my waist, making it sexy and a little badass.
The full-length skirt flowed when I walked and had a long slit up the front. There were even hidden pockets for my lip gloss. It was made by some designer who made gowns for actresses going to award shows. This poor dress wouldn’t get much use, stuffed in the back of my closet in Lark Cove.
I didn’t belong in this fancy dress or elegant bathroom. I might not be the right woman for Logan, but I was here for tonight. I was his for tonight.
And I owed him an apology.
I reapplied some lip gloss and fixed a misplaced strand of hair, then left the restroom. I opened the door to the hallway but stopped short.
Logan was standing on the opposite wall, as handsome as ever in his tuxedo. This man could make bowties sexy.
“Hi,” I sighed. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”
He pushed off the wall, meeting me in the middle of the hallway. He came right into my space and wrapped me in his arms. “Baby, I’ve told you this before. You could never embarrass me.”
“Were you not there? Everyone at your table was looking at me funny.”
“They were looking at you because you said what we were all thinking. This gala is the biggest hypocritical joke we’ve all been to in years.”
“No fucking way.” My voice echoed in the hall. “Sorry,” I winced. “Too many champagnes mean too many f-bombs.”
He chuckled. “Yes, fucking way. Just ask Nolan. These people aren’t getting a dime from the Kendrick Foundation until they can prove it’s being used for the right things.”
“Like tampons,” I blurted.
He laughed again and nodded. “Like tampons.”
“Thank you.” I fell back into his chest, holding him close. God, I am going to miss him. Every single day. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Then stay.”
“I can’t.”
He pulled me off his chest, framing my face with both hands. “Why?”
My eyes filled with tears. Why? I wasn’t ready for that question yet. I hadn’t figured out my answer. So I gave him the one I gave to Charlie when I didn’t want to explain myself. “Just because.”
His eyebrows came together as he held my face, studying my eyes. Then the creases in his forehead went away. Gone. Poof. The worry was replaced with Logan’s signature look of confidence and determination. The same look he’d given me in my workshop when he’d asked me to come to New York and I’d said no.
“We’ll talk about it again this weekend.”
“Okay.” My answer would still be the same, but maybe I’d at least have an explanation figured out by then.
“Come on.” He let go of my face and held out a hand. “The speaker is done and I want to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I wasn’t going to miss him every single day, I’d miss him every single minute.
Hand in hand, we went back to the ballroom, where a live band had set up next to the dance floor.
I followed behind Logan as he weaved through the tables, nodding and saying hello as he passed clusters of people mingling. We’d almost made it to the dance floor when the ignorant speaker stepped in our path.
“Logan, so good to see you. Did you enjoy the presentation?”
“To be frank? No. I implore you to do some research before wasting my time or money for a table again.” Without another word, Logan pushed past the speaker and led me to the dance floor.
I glanced over my shoulder to see the speaker rooted to his spot, staring stunned at Logan’s back. When I looked forward, I smiled. “Thanks for that.”
Logan spun and swung me into his arms. “My pleasure.”
We slowly swayed to the music for a few moments, settling into the mix of other couples dancing.
“Do you want to talk about why you have such a passion for tampons?”
I shook my head. “Let’s just say I know exactly what it’s like to be one of the unfortunate. Can we leave it at that?”
“Thea—”
“Please.” I leaned back to meet his gaze. “Please, Logan. I don’t want to talk about it tonight.”
“Then when?” he asked.
“Later.” Much, much later.
He spun me in a circle, pulling me close to whisper in my ear. “I hate that I don’t know everything about you. I hate that I don’t know who your parents were or how you grew up. I hate that I don’t understand the relationship you have with Jackson. I hate that you don’t trust me enough to share.”
“Oh, Logan.” I deflated into his chest. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just the one topic I can’t talk about tonight in this fancy room. I’m doing my best to keep it all together and pretend I belong in this ballroom with you. If we drudge up all the garbage, I’ll never be able to pretend.”
He stopped dancing. “You don’t have to pretend. You do belong.”
I gave him a sad smile, not wanting to argue. “I trust you. But let’s leave my parents and childhood off the table.”
“Okay,” he agreed, moving to the music again. “Then how about Jackson? Why are you two so close?”
“We met in high school. His foster home was close to the place where I grew up. Neither of us had many friends or people we could rely on and I guess that just bonded us together. Since we didn’t have a real family, we made one up ourselves. He’s like a brother.”
“Has it ever been more?”
I smiled against his tuxedo jacket. “Never. That kiss you saw was the first time he’s ever kissed me anywhere other than the cheek. He loves me but not in a romantic way.”
Logan’s frame relaxed and he twirled us around. Had I known that my relationship with Jackson had caused him worry, I would have explained it all in more detail weeks ago, like he had with his ex, Emmeline.
“What about you?” I asked. “Should I be worried about seeing any of your exes here tonight?”
“After Emmeline, I saw a woman briefly but that ended months ago. I had a girlfriend in college who is now happily married to a good friend. But that’s it. You’re all caught up.”
I rested my cheek against his chest. “Good. And since I went on the mother of all dry spells between our escapades, you’re all caught up too.”
“What?” He stopped moving. “Say that again.”
“Say what again?”
“That part about a dry spell between our escapades.”
“Oh.” I blushed. This fancy ballroom probably wasn’t the place to announce to Logan that I hadn’t slept with anyone but him in the last six-something years. Goddamn you, champagne. “Well, there was you. Then I had Charlie and was kind of busy being a mom. Then there was you again.”
“Damn it.” His face softened and he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. “I wish I had come back to that hotel sooner.”
I stood on my toes, brushing my lips to his without a reply.
A part of me wished that too, but the other was glad for how things had turned out. As much as I hated that he’d missed those years with Charlie, I couldn’t regret leaving for Montana.
The band started a new song, this one faster than the one we’d been swaying to a moment ago, and a wave of panic hit me. I’d never danced like this before. The only dancing I’d done was at clubs or in my living room with Charlie. My high school hadn’t organized formal dances because so few of the students could afford to rent tuxes or buy dresses.
“I don’t know how to dance to this,” I whispered.
“But I do.” Logan pulled me closer. “Hold on to me and I’ll take it from there. Don’t let me go, Thea.”
The passion in his voice and the intensity of his gaze nearly broke me.
Because his plea had nothing to do with dancing.
