Ororo bit savagely into a thin, rolled-up piece of turkey. It was her second trip through the buffet line, even though the food was tasteless. She had nothing better to do.
Except eavesdrop. And glare.
“So how have you been?” Scott was good-natured, as usual, but Ororo had a hard time holding up her end of the conversation.
“Not too bad.”
“How’s the weather in New York?”
“Not too bad.” It was unwitting lie. It was ten degrees.
“What color is they sky on Mars?”
“Not too…wait. What?”
“That’s what I thought.” Scott cracked open his Sprite and took a thirsty gulp. “You’re a little distracted.”
“That bad?”
“I’ve been having a conversation with the side of your head since you got here.”
“I’m sorry.” Ororo looked contrite. Scott patted her shoulder.
“Stress?”
“I guess.”
“It’s a hard time of year. I get a little SAD.”
“Cheer up,” Ororo said. “It’s not that bad.”
“No, not sad. SAD. Seasonal affective disorder.” Ororo snickered and rolled her eyes.
“Ah. Cabin fever? Psychosis from having to scrape your car and thaw it for twenty minutes before you go anywhere?”
“Now you’re listening to me,” Scott said. His grin created tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“I just hate business travel this time of year. Scratch that. I hate business travel, period.”
“It’s nice to network,” Scott pointed out.
“I guess.”
“Ever think about working out of one of our sister sites?”
“I like New York.”
“It wasn’t bad when we went for that training,” Scott allowed. “But I like the old history of Boston. I don’t know why. And I’m just used to it. I like riding the trains and looking out over the harbor. Seeing the old statues. Going to Quincy Market.”
“I’ll give you that,” Ororo said. “I loved Quincy Market the last time we went.”
“Have you been to the aquarium?”
“Not yet.”
“Put it in your planner for the next time you come out this way. When it’s warm.” Ororo laughed.
“Fair enough. Then it’s your turn. Off-Broadway show?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Ororo’s gaze drifted off again, and this time Scott followed her eyes across the room.
Logan was engaged in shop talk “ more or less “ with Madelyne over by the large window that had a view of the street.
“I’ve really been pushing flexible spending. The clients seem to like adding it to their out of area plans.”
“It’s the future of health care. More out of pocket cost for the member, sure, but they have more options of where they can go.”
“Nobody wants a gatekeeper HMO anymore,” she agreed. “But the customer’s always right.”
The customer’s always right… Ororo mimicked Madelyne’s words in her head, giving her a nasal falsetto with a New England accent for good measure.
“Are you gonna eat that?” Scott eyed Ororo’s plate.
“Huh?”
“Want your ham roll?”
“Knock yourself out. Actually, I’m full…”
“Waste not, want not. Saves me a trip to the table.”
Ororo listened to Scott with half an ear. Madelyne was getting too familiar, picking lint off of Logan’s blazer and occasionally laying her hand on his shoulder as she laughed at what he said.
Frequently.
Heifer.
Asshole… What’d Summers think he was playing at?
Logan found himself staring at the space between Maddie’s perfectly waxed red brows whenever she spoke, but whenever he found a moment, his eyes found Ororo, smiling charmingly at Scott.
He longed to knock him upside the back of the head.
Their conversation looked safe enough. Scott was standing too close for Logan’s comfort, but he was being a good boy and keeping his hands to himself. Except for the random trips his fingers made to her plate to steal an occasional cookie or tidbit of lunch meat. Had Logan watched Ororo while she was in the buffet line? Heck, yeah. Had he watched her eat?
Now that was a dumb question.
He liked watching her eat. There was something about that full, lush pink mouth, watching her push small morsels between her lips and lick her fingers clean before reaching for her napkin. Damn.
“…and I was thinking, after this 1/1 push plays out and things are a little less hectic, what do you think about driving down to Miami?”
“Huh?”
“You know,” Madelyne smiled, “get some sun and fresh air, see different sights than all this dirty snow.”
“That’s, uh, nice. I, uh, don’t know when I’ll get the time-“
“Let’s set a date.” She was already fishing in her purse for her Blackberry. Logan cursed to himself.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I’ve got some time open in March. Pensacola’s nice, too, I have a few favorite haunts down there from the last time I met a client for their July renewal. Or we could check out Epcot?”
“Um. Maddie…here’s the thing.” He searched for that “thing” frantically. “I was thinkin’…maybe a road trip’s a little…ambitious.” Her mouth formed a small moue of disappointment.
“Oh. Well, if you don’t like spending that much time in the car…?”
“Well-“
“How about something closer? I’ve been wanting to see the Smithsonian. Only a couple of hours on the road instead of a day. The Air and Space exhibits are my favorite. Did I mention I used to fly planes?”
“No. Ya didn’t, actually.” That caught his interest, briefly. To her credit, Maddie wasn’t shallow, Logan decided, maybe even multi-faceted.
That made it hard. At best, all he wanted was a distraction. But from what?
What, really?
She went back to her day planner. Logan’s eyes flitted back toward the aisle between table sections.
Tory.
She was wearing more of that damned black, but she wore it well. This time it was a simple wrap dress beneath a long, slate gray cardigan. Nondescript silver earrings dangled from her ears, along with a silver bracelet that did little to brighten the sedate outfit. Logan wanted to rip down that damned snug bun, too. Who had hair like that and restrained it so much? What was she thinking?
The only benefit was the sight of those long calves, tapered and curving, made even more tempting by a pair of sexy black pumps. All right, he amended, she got the shoes right…
She felt his eyes on her, he told himself. She turned, angling her whole body by slow degrees like a tree reaching for sunlight.
They shared a charged look. Logan saw Ororo swallow, possibly clearing her throat. Was that a flush of pink in her cheeks?
“Sure you don’t want a cream puff?” Scott’s voice broke her trance.
“No. I couldn’t.”
“I can’t tempt you?”
Not like he can, the bastard… “I’m fine. I might just get another soda.”
“Sprite?”
“Mugg, if they have it.” Scott grinned and was off before she could get it herself. He was so sweet…
She didn’t read a “spark” from Scott, which was both a disappointment and a relief. But Ororo occasionally missed having good, old-fashioned male attention. Flirting. Quiet dinners. Phone calls and text messages on her coffee breaks. But none of the good stuff came free. The price was drama. Second-guessing and screaming matches she could do without, thank you very much.
Scott came back and they sat down again. He tucked into his dessert while she sipped her drink.
“Did you get the rates I sent out yesterday?”
“Sure did. You updated the database with the attachments?”
“Yup.”
“It’s so good to work with someone who’s actually on top of their game,” Scott mused. “Selene’s old underwriter was a piece of work. You had to practically beg her to route anything to the management team.”
“I won’t even go there.” Ororo hated to speak badly of Amara, her predecessor. She’d spent two weeks just cleaning out old hard files with out of date contacts and duplicate copies of contract revisions that had been rescinded and replaced.
“Yeah. I know. I won’t spend all day ragging on her, either, but I’m glad you stepped in. You’re a good addition to the AMT.”
“Thanks. You’re a pal.” Scott chuckled.
“Just a card-carrying member of your growing fan club.” Scott changed the subject. “So…I heard it through the grapevine that you like Mexico?”
“Huh?”
“You took a trip there this Christmas?”
“Oh. Yeah, I did.” Ororo squirmed beneath his gaze. “It’s no big deal, Scott, but do you mind my asking…where did you hear that?”
“Selene.” To Scott’s credit, he lied well. She smiled in relief. “I was just curious. I’d wondered if you went around the same time I did.”
“Possibly.”
“Did you like it?”
“I loved it. I can’t wait to go again, once things settle down and I’ve saved some disposable funds.”
“What did you like the best?”
The sunrise. Using Logan as a mattress. “Probably the beaches. And I liked this little bar where…well, I liked the local color. And the food. Had some good, authentic tacos.” Scott nodded.
“Definitely. I loved the beaches. Turned red as a lobster, though.”
“Ouch. Poor baby.”
“It was worth it. The ocean was like bath water.”
“I don’t swim much, but I like the beach itself, just walking in the sand.”
“That makes me hate being here,” Scott mused. “Present company excepted.”
“Fair enough. Likewise. It was hard to come back. I wanted to make a U-turn as soon as I walked into my apartment.”
“Is it just you? Any pets? Roommates?”
“Thank goodness, no. I’ve been alone since my separation. My, myself and I.” Scott smirked.
“Like your own company more than anyone else’s?”
“It depends on the company. Sometimes, I don’t want to deal with anyone else’s neuroses except mine.” She stirred her ice cubes with her finger. “No one else knows how to deal with them. Does that sound selfish?”
“So you think no one else would have you, or you just haven’t tried?”
“Why do I sense a psych eval coming on?”
“No. No, no. Not at all. I just feel like I’ve had this talk before with someone else before.” Scott sat back in his seat. “How long were you married?”
“About two years, if you count the months after we actually filed the paperwork to split up. Can we talk about something else?”
It was too tempting to vent and pour out feelings she’d kept under wraps for so long. Scott was coming too close to scratching the surface, and he didn’t need an earful.
It made her feel too vulnerable.
She just wanted his friendship, and he seemed to feel the same.
“How about those Red Sox?”
See, she knew she liked Scott.
“So, what do you think?”
“Hm?”
“Dinner?”
That snapped him back to attention. “What’d ya have in mind?”
“Well, you suggest something. I don’t know what you like,” Maddie pointed out. “I like just about anything.”
That didn’t help Logan much. Everyone “liked anything” when you first dated them. That was fine for the first month, maybe two.
Then, the little things crept up and bit you, just like chiggers. She might not like old Three Stooges episodes or action movies or sitting in the back row of the theater. She might hate his favorite shirt or want to sleep on his side of the bed.
That left open another relevant, more immediate question: Did Logan want Maddie in his bed?
Shit. Just look at her… Who wouldn’t? She was hot. Logan wagered that she was a screamer. Or a cuddler, possibly. He didn’t mind some combination of the two.
“Ya like anything,” Logan repeated, by rote. “What’s yer favorite?” Maddie lit up.
“Chinese.” Logan could work with that.
“I actually know a nice Szechuan place instead. They’ve got this awesome spicy beef-“
“Friday?” Out came the Blackberry again. Maddie didn’t waste any time.
“Friday. Seven.”
“Six.”
“You’re the boss.” Moments later she breezed away, but not without another hug.
From across the room, Ororo felt her scalp tighten and a flush of heat prickle over her skin.
“Scott? Could you excuse me?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll see you…well, I’ll see you.”
“Ororo?” he said softly.
“Hm?” She jerked back around, flustered.
“Don’t forget to say hi to Logan before you head back to New York.” She wanted to frown. Instead, she looked resigned.
“I’ll take that under advisement.” She turned on her heel and fled, wanting the sanctuary of the women’s room.
Her heels clacked loudly on the tile, whether it was because of the shoes themselves or because she’d resorted to stomping, she couldn’t decide.
That’s what she got for eavesdropping. She’d missed most of Madelyne’s words, only listening to Logan’s voice, for the most part, but she heard “Friday” and “Six” loud and clear.
That was all she needed to know.
It’s not like I care. So he wants to take her out to dinner. So what? She can have his ass… She got to the rest room and did what needed to be done. Ororo emerged and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. Her eyes still had that pissed-off look. She also felt a headache coming on, which she marked up to her hairpins being too tight. It was too late in the day to completely redo her hair.
She dampened a wad of paper towels and blotted her cheeks to cool them, then laid them over her eyelids to reduce the headache. Ororo dove into her bag and found the bottle of Motrin, something she’d never traveled without once she started working for Selene. She popped two blue gel tabs and swallowed them with a handful of tepid water. Then she retouched her deep, raisin lipstick, pronouncing her appearance good enough.
The air in the corridor felt cooler now that she wasn’t in a crowded conference room. She was just about to head to the temporary work station reserved for herself and Selene when a deep, raspy voice stopped her.
“What’s yer rush?” She whipped around and faced Logan, confused.
Had he followed her?
“I didn’t want anything else. I figured I’d check my messages. Selene didn’t need me for anything just yet.” Ororo didn’t even know that for sure; she saw her manager networking with Donald and a handful of his reps by the dim sum table.
“Couldn’t be bothered ta stick around and socialize, huh?”
“I thought I was. Scott was regaling me of his trip to Mexico.” Logan’s nostrils flared. Ororo felt her stomach flutter.
“He was, huh? His trip ta Mexico?”
“He said the beaches were nice this time of year.”
“Bet they were.” Logan counted the ways he could kill Scott but came up empty as to how to dispose of the body. Ororo’s posture was haughty. She stood erect and with hands on her hips.
Her lips shone with a fresh coat of lipstick. It drove Logan just a little crazy, staring at it.
It was easier to be a little pissed off, and to annoy her just a little in the process.
“You like the beach,” he pointed out. Ororo’s eyes narrowed.
“Sometimes. Depends on the time of day. Or who I’m with.”
“Hm. Sure. Sure, it does.” His look was sly.
Bastard. It wasn’t helping that he looked so good in that suit, coffee brown wool and impeccably tailored to his muscular build. She fought the urge to touch him as Madelyne had and let her palm linger on his chest. Ororo congratulated herself on her self-restraint.
“I have a few things on my plate.”
“Looked like Scott was helpin’ ya polish ‘em off a minute ago.” Her brows drew together.
“Were you watching me?”
“Pfft…no.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall indolently. “Just saw ya passing by.”
“I saw you briefly,” she admitted, “but you looked occupied.”
“I was networking. It’s good ta get ta know yer coworkers. Build up a rapport and make good business relationships.”
“Spoken like a broker.” Business relationships, my ass.
“Ya don’t like me very much, do ya?”
“It’s not that.” Ororo skirted around him. “I just don’t think we ‘network’ very well.”
“But ya network just fine with Summers?”
“I get along fine with him. He’s very helpful, and I have no complaints. We don’t suffer from gaps in communication.” Her voice was dripping with scorn. That didn’t stop him from keeping stride with her as she reached the large suite. Ororo navigated the maze of cubicles, nodding brief hello’s to faces and name tags she recognized.
“Gaps in communication,” Logan mimicked. “Ya mean those carefully worded emails of yers, huh? Or those teleconferences where butter wouldn’t melt in yer mouth?”
“I know my Netiquette,” she insisted.
“That ain’t my point. Yer uppity.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ya know what I’m talkin’ about. Bossy. Most folks say ‘I hope ta hear from ya.’ Not you, Miss High an’ Mighty Ororo. It’s always ‘I look forward ta hearing from you.’ Like yer darin’ anyone not ta reply.”
“Of course I expect them to reply,” she huffed.
“But yer bossy about yer expectations. And uppity.”
“You’re so full of it.” Full of shit…
“Only time yer not bossy is when Selene’s in on the call. Then yer all about sweetness and light. Do ya squeeze the toothpaste fer her in the morning?”
“God, you’re sick…”
“No. That’s yer mind in the gutter. I just mean do ya ever let her do anything fer herself?”
Not if she can help it… “She’s perfectly capable of handling an account when I’m not there.”
“She didn’t even let ya unpack yer bags from yer trip before she was calling ya back in ta the office, did she?”
Darn him. He’d read her mind, the jerk.
She didn’t even realize she’d walked past her desk. He’d practically chased her in a circle around a block of desks. She pretended to need a cup of coffee, stopping by a table that had a pair of guest carafes set up and steaming. Ororo filled her Styrofoam cup and dumped in two more sugars than what she usually wanted, just to give her hands something to do.
“I can’t help it if she values me, can I?”
“Course ya can’t. Ya don’t take a lot of time ta yerself, do ya?”
“And that’s your business, why?”
“Ouch. Touchy.”
“Don’t you have anything to do? Like ‘networking?’” She made quote marks with her fingers. Logan’s lips twitched.
“Sure, darlin’. I’ll just let ya get back ta yer ‘messages.’” He made quote marks back, mocking her. She grumbled to herself once he was out of earshot.
“Yeah, you do that. ‘Darlin’.”
*
Logan’s enthusiasm about his work day being over faded once he crossed the threshold of his apartment. Alone again.
He replayed his day as he rummaged through his freezer for some ground beef. As it rotated in the microwave on ‘thaw,’ he checked his mail. There were more bills, something he didn’t look forward to. Logan shucked his blazer and unknotted his tie, letting the tails dangle down his chest as he opened each envelope.
He punched the Play button on his answering machine and fixed himself a glass of orange juice.
Beep. “Where’s my boy? It’s Pop. John’s heading up this weekend. Wanted ta just check on ya and see if we could count on ya fer dinner on Saturday. It’s Vic’s birthday.” Logan lightly rapped his forehead with his fist. Shit. He’d forgotten. Logan saw a trip to Toys R Us in his future.
Then he remembered. He had dinner with Maddie on Friday. Screw it. There was his excuse not to cancel, just to cut things short, if he begged off with having to leave early in the morning.
The next two calls were hang-ups with blocked numbers.
Beep. “Logan, it’s Sara. Could you call me?”
Logan sighed. There went his peaceful night.
He wanted to call on a full stomach, but his phone rang before his spaghetti noodles reached al dente. Logan juggled the phone and the frying pan as he drained the fat.
“H’lo?”
“Logan? Hi. How’ve you been?”
“Hey, darlin’,” he answered, trying to infuse his voice with happiness he didn’t feel.
Sara. Her voice was so much like Jean’s, so many of the same inflections and ways that she pronounced the same words.
“I just thought about you and wanted to see how you’ve been. The kids have been asking about their uncle Jimmy.”
“Uncle Jimmy’s doin’ all right. They around? They wanna say hi?”
“They’re out with their dad.” Sara was in the thick of an ugly divorce. Logan didn’t want to touch that subject with a ten-foot pole, but he let her vent when she called.
“He takin’ ‘em somewhere special?”
“No. But he had some vacation time and wanted to give me a break. Nice of him, huh? I’m fixing a few things around the house and having the carpet cleaned in the meantime. Less foot traffic.”
“Sounds like a plan. Glad ya have a break.” Logan paused a moment. “Ya can always send ‘em my way if ya want. Maybe during their spring break. I don’t mind.”
“That’s sweet of you.” Sara cleared her throat. “I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing. Logan…I was looking online at this support group…”
Oh, no. There she went again…
“…it’s bereavement counseling for people who have lost a spouse.”
“It is, huh?”
“I know that it’s been a while since she’s been gone, but, maybe you’d get something out of it.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t keep the note of skepticism out of his voice, wanting to bring bitterness with it.
“It’s up to you. But here, I found this link…” She read it off to him slowly, wanting him to write it down, obviously. He didn’t make a move to grab a Post-It from the cube on his counter, or the pen he had Velcro-ed to the fridge. “I just…I went through a lot after she died, Logan. I know you don’t…” Her voice began to break, but she sniffled, clearing her throat before she continued. “I know you don’t need me to unload on you, you have enough on your mind and in your heart.”
“That don’t mean ya can’t talk ta me, Sara. Yeah, I know, well, let’s say there is a limit ta how much I can deal with about how she died-“
“That’s what’s helpful about a group!” Sara’s voice brightened slightly, even though it was still full of unshed tears.
“I know ya think so, and it was thoughtful of ya ta think of me, darlin’. I appreciate it. I know some folks don’t always get along with their wives’ families, but yer a peach. Ya’ve been a good sister-in-law, and that didn’t end because I lost Jeannie.” His voice faltered on his last syllables, and he had a hard time holding the phone to his ear. He cradled it against his pounding heart and took several ragged breaths. Cold prickles bathed his flesh and he rubbed his palm over his closed eyes.
“Logan? Are you there?” Sara sounded worried. “Logan? Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he muttered before lifting the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, darlin’, I’m okay. Peachy keen.” He heard her sigh.
“Okay. I believe you.” He gave a hollow little laugh. She echoed it. “God. It’s just good to hear your voice. But anyway, I was talking to my therapist, and she’s been helping me lately. I dream about Jean, sometimes.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you?”
“Not as much anymore.” It was a lie.
His dreams were merciless. Either so cold and empty he thought he was dying, or so red-hot with rage that waking up felt like an escape from hell.
“Wow. Is that…good, do you think?”
“I don’t know. That doesn’t mean fer a minute that I don’t think about her, kiddo.”
“I know.” She sounded indignant; maybe he was imagining it. “I didn’t say you haven’t been.”
“Glad ya got someone ta talk to.”
“It might help you, too.”
“I’m doin’ all right, Sara. I’m workin’. Things are goin’ all right. Scott’s been like a friggin’ mother hen.”
“He came to one of your parties once, right? The nice one with dark hair, kind of tall? Nice looking?”
“I ain’t a good judge of that, but yeah, that sounds like him. Boy Scout.”
“Yes!” she chuckled. “Definitely.”
“Just went ta lunch with him a few days ago. He’s doin’ fine.” Logan forced a smile into his voice. “He’s still single, FYI.”
“Oh! Silly! No, that’s nice to know, but I’ll pass.”
“All right. Just thought I’d lay that out on the table.”
“Okay.” There was a heavy silence that she broke with another sigh. “Logan…”
“I’m managin’ just fine, Sara. I promise.”
“It’s just…she was taken away from us too young! It wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it was supposed to happen…” Sara ran on autopilot, working her way back into the verbal breakdown that characterized so many of their earlier talks. “She loved you so much, Logan.”
Logan’s grip on the counter white-knuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed. The spaghetti sauce in the skillet began to spatter his range top, but he didn’t care.
“I know things were rocky between you two.”
“That doesn’t matter. Once ya’ve lost someone, Sara, ya kinda see things in a different light.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t be sorry. Ya meant well. Ya’ve always meant well. Sara? Do me a favor. Don’t be sad. Not fer me. There’s gonna be days where yer gonna wanna cry, and I’m always here if ya wanna talk. But don’t be sad fer me. I have you and the kids and my dad, brother, his wife and kids. I have family. That means more ta me than anything else. I loved Jeannie, but I also love everyone she left behind.”
Except himself. That dangled unspoken between them. But his words had the effect he wanted.
“You’re so strong.”
“So are you.”
“No. I’m not. I’m falling apart. She was my big sister.”
“I know. Had it been Johnny, it’d be the same fer me.”
“Okay. I’ll stop. This is getting morbid.” Sara sniffled again. He almost saw her on her end of the line, mastering herself and wiping her green eyes. “So, how’s work?”
“Work. That’s about it.”
“Getting any new sales?”
“You know it. Busy renewal. Winter’s always busy.”
“Good. I hate how dark it is at this time of year.”
“We’re gainin’ light. The sun rises earlier in the morning, lately. Makes it easier ta get outta bed.” Logan believed that, completely. He had to.
“Let’s keep thinking of how to do things for the kids’ spring break, though. Maybe you could come down and see them?”
“I could do that. I ain’t got anything on my calendar yet, at least not travel-wise.” Logan suppressed a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“This coworker of mine. Well, she works off-site. But she asked me if I wanted ta go on a road trip.”
“You’re kidding. Wow.”
“Wow? What ‘wow?’”
“Well…wow! It’s just sudden. That’s funny. How long have you known her?”
“That depends. What time is it now?”
“Sheesh!” Sara chuckled. “Eager?”
“I guess.”
“What’s she like?”
“Pretty. Pleasant.”
“Would Joey call her a hottie?” Sara’s son was already ten and getting too worldly for his own good. Logan snorted.
“Yeah. He ain’t as picky as I am, but he’d be right on the mark.”
“You’re picky, huh?” He pictured Sara rolling her eyes.
“Hey, give me some credit.”
“Uh-huh. Suuuurrre.”
“She’s all right. I’m on the fence. I suggested dinner.”
“Good.”
He wavered.
He almost wanted to ask Sara if she was okay with him seeing someone new, but he didn’t want the answer. He really didn’t. To his relief, she didn’t press him.
“I’m glad,” she insisted. “And it was really good to talk to you tonight.”
“Likewise, sis.”
“Take care.”
“Oh. By the way, I did get those boxes ya sent.”
“Did you get the chance to go through them?”
“I looked. Was that everything?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Appreciate it, darlin’.”
“Call you soon.”
“Sounds like a plan. Bye.”
“Bye.”
His stove looked like a Jackson Pollack painting. Logan turned off the thickening sauce and served himself a plate with little enthusiasm.
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