***
Logan knocked on Dylan’s front door. He wasn’t home.
For most of the day, he’d been answering phone calls from journalists from around the country. Over the years, Senator Gibson’s name had been linked to many high-profile charities and organizations. After his story hit the headlines, everyone wanted more information. They wanted to reconcile the good looking senator with the drug dealing opportunist they’d read about.
Logan sat in his truck and answered another call. This one was from a reporter in Paris. They wanted to know whether Senator Gibson was linked to any French nationals. The only connection to France Logan had found, was to a property in Aquitaine. According to the senator’s ex-wife, he’d taken his girlfriends to the rustic mansion for romantic weekends away.
It was no wonder Marcie was making every cent she could out of her life with her ex-husband. She’d already sold her story to a high-profile magazine and agreed to be interviewed on the biggest talk show in America. She was on track to make a fortune from her husband’s drug dealing life.
Marcie didn’t have any regrets about going public, but Logan wasn’t so lucky. He regretted his friendship with Tess being the catalyst to writing the story. He regretted knowing she must think he’d used her for his own gain. And he regretted what could happen next with Jilly.
Someone tapped on his passenger window. “You going to sit there all night or come inside?”
Logan had never been happier to see Dylan. He turned his phone off and jumped out of his truck. “How’s Tess?”
“She’s okay. I dropped your mom off at your house.”
“Did mom see the story?”
“She read it with Tess.”
Logan didn’t like the sound of that. “What did they say?”
“Your mom thought it was well written, balanced and thought provoking. By the end of it, she wanted to strangle the senator and put him behind bars for what he’d done.”
“What about Tess?”
Dylan hesitated. “She didn’t say much. Did you consider showing her the article before it was published?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want her to worry about it.”
“She wouldn’t have been half as worried if you’d shown her what you’d written.”
Logan followed Dylan onto his front porch. “It’s not my story I’m worried about. Jilly isn’t happy.”
“I don’t expect she is. You took what she thought was her story and published it first.”
“She’s writing another story.”
“Do you know what she wrote?”
“No.” Logan stepped inside Dylan’s home and looked around. “You still haven’t unpacked everything?” About eight boxes lined one wall of the living room. They’d been sitting there for the last six months. Logan didn’t know if Dylan hadn’t unpacked them because he didn’t have the time or if he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay.
Dylan glanced at the boxes on his way through to the kitchen. “I emptied another one last weekend. I’m not in a hurry, especially if I find somewhere to live in Bozeman.”
“A snail moves faster than you when it comes to unpacking. Even if you move, it would be good to get everything out of their boxes. Do you want me to give you a hand?”
“Does it look as though I need help?”
Logan sat on a kitchen stool and leaned against the counter. “Everyone needs help now and then.”
“If you want to be useful you can get some cans of soda out of the refrigerator. I’ll start the barbecue. You look as though you could do with a decent meal.”
“Do I look hungry?”
Dylan frowned. “You look like death warmed over. What’s going on?”
“Life.”
“Been there, done that. Care to elaborate?”
Logan hadn’t slept much over the last few days and had eaten even less. “I may have destroyed the most important thing in my life.”
“I hope you’re referring to Tess and not the beaten up truck parked outside?”
“You know I am,” Logan muttered.
“Just checking.” Dylan took two huge steaks off the counter. “When the drinks are ready, bring them outside. If I don’t get these on, we’re never going to eat.”
Dylan walked across the room and opened a set of French doors.
The best part of his home was the view. A wraparound deck overlooked the Bridger Range. They’d spent hours outside with their feet propped up against the railing and the sun setting over the mountains. Watching what nature did best was the best therapy either of them had ever had.
Logan looked in the fridge. Dylan might be a little slow at unpacking boxes, but he always had plenty of fresh food. Within a few minutes, he’d put together a huge salad.
He grabbed two cans of soda and put them on a tray with the salad. When he opened the door to the deck, he nearly choked on the smoke coming off the barbecue. “You trying to get the fire department out here?”
“Any complaints and I’m eating half your steak.” Dylan glanced at the bowl of salad in Logan’s hands. “You made that out of what’s in my fridge?”
Logan’s mouth tilted into a smile. “I’ve been helping in the café.”
“Looks like it.”
“Do you have any avocado oil? It makes a great dressing with lemon juice and black pepper.”
Dylan flipped the steaks. “You sure you’re feeling all right? You sound like Martha Stewart.”
“Scoff all you like, but the dressing will make the salad taste incredible.”
“I can’t believe I just heard you say that. Come with me.” Dylan turned the barbecue down and walked back inside. “One of my sisters sent me a fancy food basket when I moved in. There’s lots of stuff in there I’ve never used.”
“Where do your sisters live?”
“Two are in Los Angeles and one lives in San Francisco. The Army was a piece of cake after dealing with their issues. Being a big brother isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He opened a cupboard door and reached inside. “Here it is. Help yourself to whatever you need. I’ll check the steak.”
Logan started working his way through the bottles. He found avocado oil, red wine vinaigrette and a jar of lemon-garlic salad dressing. He left the avocado oil on the counter and put the rest of the dressings in Dylan’s pantry.
He squeezed the juice of a lemon into a jar, tipped in some oil, then added ground black pepper. After a quick whisk with a fork, he had the tasty dressing ready.
He balanced the dressing on top of a couple of plates with the knives and forks, and headed onto the deck. “You want to eat out here?” he asked Dylan.
“Might as well. It’s good to get some fresh air after being cooped up inside my truck for two hours with your mom and Tess.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Not really,” Dylan admitted. “Once Tess got over the fact that she was coming with us she wasn’t so bad. Things got a little heated after they read your story.”
“Where’s Tess now?”
“In her apartment.”
Logan stared at Dylan. He was supposed to have looked after her, not let her fend for herself.
Dylan picked up one of the plates and put a huge steak on it. “Before you get all high and mighty about Tess, you should know that Sally’s with her. She brought an Irish Wolfhound to stand guard. The dog’s built like the Great Wall of China. Nothing’s going to get past him.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be from the other side of town. Why don’t you go and see for yourself?”
Logan wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “She hates me.”
“Okay, so maybe I understand her reluctance to talk to you. You almost blew her new life to shreds. Not bad for someone who eats at her café all of the time. Didn’t you say you were her friend as well?”
“I am her friend.”
Dylan snorted.
“Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Don’t k
now. I’m still trying to figure out if your idiot tendencies stem from a mental deficiency or plain stupidness.” Dylan passed Logan the second steak. “Put some of that fancy salad on your plate. It might help your brain cells to multiply.”
If Tess thought today was a nightmare, Monday could be worse. “The Chronicle’s publishing the story Jilly wrote in Monday’s paper.”
“Wasn’t she your friend, too?”
Logan attacked his steak with his knife. “I didn’t steal her story. I’d already been investigating the senator and I’d spoken to his ex-wife. Jilly had no idea what would have happened if she’d gone in half prepared to fight the senator.”
“And you enlightened her?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass?”
Dylan smirked. “All the time, that’s why I’m your friend. You make me look good.”
With how he felt at the moment, Logan would make anyone look good.
Dylan opened another deck chair and sat down. “I don’t imagine Jilly took the news of your story very well.”
Logan sighed. “She screamed down the phone at me, then came into the office and tried the same thing. Security evicted her.”
Dylan, the man who never showed any emotion, burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny. She won’t tell me what’s in her story. If she says anything about Tess things could get bad around here. I’m going to be in so much trouble with Tess that she’ll never speak to me again.”
“Here’s a news flash for you. You’re in trouble now. Tess, on the other hand, doesn’t deserve any of this. You’d better hope Jilly has some kind of conscience tucked up her sleeve.”
“I’m not counting on it.” Logan didn’t know what Jilly might or might not say in her story. He was planning for the worst, and that involved suggesting Tess go back to Seattle with his mom. Tess wouldn’t listen to him, but she might listen to her friends.
“Have you seen Molly and Annie since you got back?”
Dylan narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“I want Tess to go home with mom for a few days. She won’t go if she thinks it’s my idea. I thought Molly and Annie might be able to help.”
“You sure you’re not taking your neurotic tendencies too far?”
Logan knew he wasn’t. Dylan would do the same thing if he knew what Tess had gone through three years ago. “If Jilly’s story isn’t as bad as I think it’s going to be, Tess should be okay. Otherwise, the easiest thing for her to do would be to leave town for a while.”
“Tess doesn’t strike me as wanting to take too many easy options.”
“That’s why I need Molly and Annie to help.”
Dylan shook his head. “If you want my opinion, I think you’re underestimating Tess. She’ll be okay.”
Logan went back to eating his dinner.
“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
“Nope.”
Dylan picked up his soda. “Sounds like you’ve got some fast talking to do. You’d better hope Molly and Annie are in a receptive mood.”
Logan hoped more than that. He hoped Tess actually listened to them and his mom didn’t mind a house guest. That was a lot of people to convince, but he’d been up against worst odds before.
All of Me Page 35