I laugh.
“Seriously, all that matters is that he makes you happy and from what I’ve seen tonight, he does.”
I smile and hug him tight.
“Can you promise your old man one thing?” He says as we hug.
I pull back and look into his eyes. “Sure.” I smile.
“Take it slow, sweetie. You’ve had more than enough hurt in one lifetime. You’re still so young and he seems like a great guy but you should just take it slow.”
“I will. I promise.” I say.
“Emilia, I know it might be hard to talk to me about this stuff, but I want you to know I’m here for you. I always will be.” His voice trails off as if he’s lost in his thoughts.
I feel my throat tightening and my eyes welling up with tears. “I know, Dad. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you teary. Would you like me to come in with you? It looks like kind of a rough neighborhood, maybe I should make sure it’s safe.”
I giggle. “It’s a bit rundown, isn’t it?”
He smiles. “Seriously, would you like me to walk you up?”
“No. I’m good. Thanks for tonight. It was great seeing you.” I hug him again.
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, too.” I say and I pull back from him. “I’ll see you in a few weeks for Thanksgiving.”
He affectionately smiles at me as I climb out of the Jeep. I quickly walk up the stairs to the massive front door and ring the doorbell.
In a minute, Logan opens it and pulls me into a warm embrace. Turning to my dad, I see him smile, returning my wave as he drives off in his Jeep.
“Hey, baby.” He pulls me tightly against him and kisses me deeply. “I was getting worried.” He breathes into my hair.
“Worried that I was going to show up tipsy and you’d have to carry me?” I giggle.
He pulls back and smiles at me. “Not exactly. I thought maybe you wouldn’t show up. I hope your dad wasn’t too upset?”
“Upset about what?” I ask, confused.
“Because I’m stealing you away from him.” He steps back and holds my hands.
“Oh, no. He was fine. He has to get up really early and head back tomorrow anyway.”
He pulls me into the house and swiftly throws me over his shoulder.
“Logan, please.” I whisper as I giggle and try to squirm from his grip.
“I thought you said you wanted me to carry you.” He smiles as he slowly, gently slides me down to the floor.
“Please.” I beg. Holding me tight against him, we are nose to nose and my feet are still not touching the ground.
He kisses me on the lips again and then carefully places me down.
Taking my hand as he leads me through the house, he reassuringly whispers, “Don’t worry. I’m sure my dad will adore you and you know my mom already does.”
“Your mom is here too?” I ask but before he can answer, Louise Prescott gracefully walks towards me and pulls me into a warm embrace.
“Emilia, so nice to see you again.” She steps back, holding onto my arms. “You are just as beautiful as I remembered.”
I feel my face flush as I glance at Logan.
“Thank you, Mrs. Prescott.” I smile warmly at her.
“Louise, please.” She smiles. At her side is Mr. Prescott, I assume, who is tall and handsome like Logan. His salt and pepper hair gives him a very distinguished look.
“Emilia, this is my dad, Pierce Prescott.” He offers his hand out to me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prescott.” I smile and shake his hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, too, Emilia. Please call me Pierce. I’ve heard so much about you.” His blue eyes sparkle, reminding me of Logan. Then he resumes his position by Louise and takes her hand in his.
I smile at him as Logan releases my hand and slides it around my waist.
“What can I get you two to drink?” Pierce says as he makes his way to the kitchen.
“Coffee with amaretto? Limoncello? Grappa? Brandy? Port?”
I glance at Logan, overwhelmed by all the choices. He leads me to the kitchen, following his parents.
“How about tequila?” Logan whispers so only I hear him.
“We’ll have some limoncello. Thanks, Dad.”
After the drinks our poured, we all move into the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Prescott sit in two plush chairs, near the fireplace while Logan and I sink into the couch.
I smile at them and take a sip of the drink. The drink is lemony tasting but surprisingly not sour. It has a kick to it that tastes like vodka but I’m not sure. Whatever it is, I like it.
“So, Louise tells me that you two met when you interviewed Logan for the school’s news program.” Pierce smiles towards me. Oh no, do we have to go through this again?
“We did.” I smile and glance at Logan, who has an amused look on his face.
Fortunately for me, Louise quickly changes the subject.
“You know, Tessa was really upset she couldn’t come out this weekend and meet you.” Louise says. “But Logan says you might visit us in New York over Thanksgiving Break so maybe you’ll get to meet her then?”
Glancing at Logan, I try to look unfazed by this surprising piece of news that is given to me.
“Um. I’m going to spend Thanksgiving with my dad but it would be great if I could squeeze in a trip to New York over the weekend.” I say, nonchalantly.
“We haven’t really talked about all the details.” Logan adds to the conversation as he softly strokes the nape of my neck with his thumb.
“So are you going to be in Santa Barbara for long?” I ask, trying to focus on Logan’s parents and not his distracting, enticing touch.
“Just the night. We have to head to Los Angeles tomorrow for a meeting at our hotel there. Then we’ll head back to the east coast tomorrow afternoon.” Pierce smiles towards his wife as he takes a sip of his drink.
I’m surprised by the warmth and comfort between Logan’s parents. They seem genuinely happy and not at all the distant and fractured couple that Logan has made them out to be. I can’t help but smile. Things must be better between them or else they wouldn’t even be here together. Logan insists that they are always apart and that’s what works best for them. But from what I see, they are still very much a couple and very much in love. The realization is a pleasant and welcoming one.
“We’ll get to have a girls’ day some day, Emilia.” Louise laughs, referring to our impending plans the first time we met.
“I’d love that.” I smile at her.
“I hear you are a writer.” Pierce says to me. “What are your plans after you graduate?”
Before I can answer, Logan interrupts. “I think that’s enough of the interrogation. I don’t want you two scaring her away.” He laughs.
I smile. “Oh, no. It’s okay. I’d like to be a journalist, write for a magazine.”
“Can I get you something to eat, Emilia?” Mrs. Prescott asks.
“No, thank you.” I smile.
“How about a refill?” But before I can answer, Mr. Prescott is already on his feet, moving towards the kitchen.
“If you’ll excuse me. I’m just going to make a quick trip to the bathroom. You sure I can’t get you two anything?” Mrs. Prescott says.
“No. Thank you.” We speak in unison.
Her face breaks into a wide grin as she turns to leave us alone.
“Your parents look really happy together.” I say quietly to him.
“I know. It’s been a rather weird and unexpected night.” He whispers.
“Weird as in good, though?”
“Sure. I’m just not used to it.” He shrugs.
“Well, I think they’re lovely together.” I smile at him as I take my last sip of limoncello.
“Be careful, baby. That stuff is potent. I might have to carry you yet.” He smirks.
“I should probably get going anyway. It’s getting late.”
�
�Aren’t you staying the night?” He asks, confused.
I shake my head. “No. I wouldn’t feel right staying here with your parents.”
“They don’t mind.” He breathes as he continues to stroke my neck with the delicate touch of his thumb.
“I mind. I can always call a taxi if you’d rather not drive me.” I say, softly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You want to leave now?”
I hesitate for a moment, distracted by his lingering touch. “No. In a little bit?” I whisper.
“Sure. Is something wrong?” He asks urgently.
“You’re driving me crazy. Can’t you tell?” I gaze into his eyes.
“Hmm. Yes, well, you are always driving me crazy, always looking so tempting.” He leans and kisses me on my lips.
At that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Prescott walk back in the room. Mr. Prescott carries the open bottle of limoncello and refills our glasses. They sit back in their chairs, gazing at us.
“What do you two have planned for tomorrow?” Louise asks.
Logan and I look at each other and then I reply. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Oh? For the news show?” Pierce mutters.
“No. I work at a local surf shop. Did Logan tell you he surfs now?” I smile at him.
“No more tea bagging?” He whispers.
“What’s that honey?” Louise asks kindly.
“Nothing, mom.” His lips twitch up into a smile as I scowl at him.
“So, you surf, son?” Pierce asks. His eyes are bright and interested.
“A little.”
“Have you worked at the shop long, dear?” Louise asks.
“Since freshman year. I enjoy it. The owners are really great, super sweet and very flexible with my hours.” I glance, knowingly at Logan.
“Did you grow up in California?” Pierce asks.
“Well, sort of. I was born in Virginia, but my dad and I moved to Los Angeles when I was twelve.” I say and wonder if Logan has told them about my mother.
“It’s getting late.” Logan says, gazing at me. “You ready to go, baby?”
“You aren’t staying the night?” Louise frowns.
“Emilia has to work tomorrow so she needs to go home.” He says, tactfully as he stands and holds his hand out for me.
I take his hand as he helps pull me up from the depths of the couch. Standing makes me realize I’m a bit unsteady from the limoncellos.
Logan smiles at me as he puts his hand around my waist, pulling me close. Then his parents get up and we all head towards the kitchen, carrying our glasses.
“It was so lovely to see you again,” Louise embraces me. “Take care of yourself and thank you.” She whispers.
“Great to see you too.” I hug her back. I refrain from replying to her thank you because I’m not quite sure what she’s thanking me for.
Then I turn to Logan’s dad. “Pierce, it was a pleasure.” I hesitantly say because I feel a bit odd calling him by his first name, it feels so informal with him.
He embraces me warmly and when he steps back he says, “The pleasure was all mine, Emilia. I hope we’ll see you over the Thanksgiving Break.”
Logan hugs his parents and says his goodbyes. Watching, I can’t help but notice their expressions. Pierce and Louise both gaze at Logan with such warmth and love. Logan leads me to the garage, where we slide into his Porsche.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Logan says as he turns on the engine.
“They’re really sweet together.” I glance at Logan as he puts the car in reverse and we slowly back out of the garage.
“Yes, they are. I just wish I knew what those two did with my real parents.” He laughs.
“Logan!” I scold.
He shrugs. “You don’t know what they were like before.”
“People change. You should be happy they are getting along instead of questioning it.”
“I am happy about it. It’s just weird. I’m not used to them being like that…it’s a bit unnerving.” He glances at me quickly and then focuses back on the road.
“Your dad certainly showed no animosity towards you. In fact, it looked just the opposite. I just saw pure love and affection for you.”
He shrugs. “That’s just because you were there. He obviously liked you a lot, but that’s no surprise.”
“Logan, you need to stop being so negative about your relationship with your parents. Whatever happened is in the past now. They love and care about you deeply. It’s obvious just by watching the way they look at you.”
“Are you finished, Dr. King?” He smiles as we pull to the front of my house.
“I’m serious.” I give him an exasperated look.
He turns off the engine and looks towards the dark house. There’s not one light on, it’s completely engulfed in darkness.
“It looks kind of spooky.” I say as he opens the passenger door and holds his hand out to me.
“You haven’t said a word about Thanksgiving. Do you want to come and visit me in New York?” He asks as we enter the house.
“Yes, that kind of caught me off-guard.”
“Well, would you like to?” He presses.
“Of course I’d like to. I just don’t know if that’s feasible.” I say as we enter my bedroom. The only light coming from the moon outside my window, gives the room a soft glow.
Heading to the bathroom, I grab a tank top and a pair of sweatpants. I quickly remove my dress, bra, and necklace then pull on my tank and sweats. I just finish brushing my teeth when Logan enters and stands behind me, wrapping his hands around my hips. I turn and hand him my toothbrush.
“You said you liked to share.” I smile at him.
“Hmm.” He says as he kisses my forehead and takes the toothbrush.
I’m in bed and under the sheets when Logan returns to the bedroom. I pull up the sheet and Logan slides in next to me. He pulls me close to him, wrapping his arms around me.
“You want to spend Thanksgiving with your father?” He asks.
“Yes, of course.”
“You could come to New York after the holiday. Would that be feasible?”
“It’s just a few weeks away and I’m sure air fares will be insane. I just don’t think it’ll work.”
“Don’t be silly. I’d buy you the ticket or I could see if our private jet is available.”
“Um. No. Thank you. I can’t let you buy me a plane ticket and I’m not going on your family’s private jet. That’s just not right.”
“Why not? I want to see you so if I want to buy you a ticket I should be able to buy you a ticket. And, the jet is used by all of us and I’m sure my parents would be more than happy to accommodate you.”
“But I don’t want you to buy it for me and absolutely no to the jet.” I can’t hide my exasperation.
We lie in silence for a moment. Logan’s arm is around me and he softly caresses my shoulder.
“Can I visit you then?” He asks quietly.
“Don’t you want to spend time with your family?”
“I will and then I’d like to spend time with you.”
“Maybe we need some space.” I whisper.
Logan shuffles his body and leans up on one elbow, gazing down at me.
“Do you mean you need some space?”
“Well, no, not really.” I stammer.
“Not really?” He breathes.
“I just thought since we’re taking it slow, you know?”
“No. I don’t know. We’re taking it slow so you need some sort of break?” He asks with a confused tone.
“You make it sound bad. I don’t mean it like that.” I murmur.
“Explain how you mean it.” He asks, softly.
“I think it’ll just give us both time to think about everything.”
“Everything? Are you worried about something?”
“Maybe.” I breathe.
“I thought you were okay with taking things slow?”
“I am. I just worry about how
long you’ll want to.”
“You are all I want, baby. Can’t you see that?” He asks.
I shrug. He is all I want too. I just don’t know if he’ll still feel the same about me once I tell him why I have reservations. Will I ever be able to tell him? I know for us to work I need to be completely honest with him. It’s all so overwhelming and at the same time it frightens me to think that I might lose him if I don’t share everything with him.
“Please, Emilia. I don’t want you slipping through my fingers.”
“I know. You’re all I want too. It just scares me. My feelings for you scare me.”
“I feel the same way. This is all new to me too.” He kisses me softly on the lips.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder?” I smile, slightly.
“I don’t think my heart can grow much fonder for you than it already is now. Look, it’s still a few weeks away. Why don’t we just wait and see? Are you okay with that?”
“Yes.” I breathe.
Logan leans over and kisses me on the lips as I snuggle into his chest and quickly doze off to sleep.
24
I WAKE with a pounding headache. The almost blinding bright light that fills my room only exacerbates the pain. Sunlight floods through the window and I wonder why I didn’t install blackout shades instead of almost sheer, gauzy drapes. Logan blinks his eyes open as I’m plotting my plan of escape from underneath his tight grasp. I need relief. Maybe some cold water on my face will help soothe the pain. Leaning forward, he kisses me softly on the lips.
“Good morning, baby.” He whispers and pulls me closer to him.
“Morning.” I mutter, massaging my temples with a steady, circular motion.
He props himself up on one elbow. “You okay?”
“I have a terrible migraine.” I whisper.
“Or a terrible hangover?” He smiles, slightly.
“Hmm. Either one, my head is killing and it’s far too bright in here. Could you turn off the sun?”
He smiles at me. “Stay put.” Then he clambers out of bed and heads downstairs. I can hear him moving around the kitchen and in a moment he is back by my side.
“Here drink this first. It’s Gatorade.” He says as he sits beside me on the bed.
Propping a pillow up behind me, I scoot so that I’m sitting and facing him. I sip the Gatorade until I empty the glass.
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