by James, Avery
Those five minutes seemed to pass in an instant, and soon Callie was back to worrying about Logan. At least he and Monica had returned from the back of the restaurant and were now sitting at the bar. She wondered if Monica would mention the trip out to the deck and whether that would be enough for Logan to figure out that something was up. Callie was usually good at assessing people within a few seconds of meeting them. With a little bit of research and a first impression, she knew what to expect from almost anyone, but Logan baffled her. Once enough time had passed, Callie decided her best move was to head back to the guesthouse as soon as possible.
***
Where the hell is she? Logan wondered. He scanned the room for any sign of Callie but couldn't find her. The hostess had said she was waiting at the front of the restaurant, but when he had gotten there, she was nowhere to be seen. Before he had even had a chance go looking for her, Monica had found him and pulled him over to the bar to start the interview. He wasn't even really paying attention to her, and he could tell she was getting annoyed.
"What was that?" Logan asked after missing another question.
"I said that Mike said you're heading out of town after this interview. Have anything good planned?"
"Something came up. I'll be in town a little longer than expected." As he finished his sentence, Logan spotted her. Callie was out on the deck, looking out over the harbor. He wanted to end the interview and head straight to her, but he knew he couldn't.
Monica looked over her shoulder and then made eye contact with Logan, making sure she had his full attention. “So, Logan, this is your third microbrewery in under two years. Many of our readers are familiar with your father’s work in the oil and gas industry, but this entrepreneurial spirit is new for you. What made you decide to jump into business head first?”
“Well, I was looking to build something for myself.”
“Is that why you left Wyoming? Were you looking to put a little distance between yourself and your family so you could make a name for yourself?”
Logan looked her back. “Monica, you know why I left Wyoming. You can’t really think people would want to know about that. They’re reading about a brewery, not how the owner of the brewery got embroiled in a fabricated sex scandal.”
“You’re a hot commodity Logan, and sex sells. Did you really get caught in a compromising situation with the wife of the man who bought your father’s oil company? Michael told me the story shortly after it happened, what was her name? Haven or something. She was some kind of fixer, right?”
Logan laughed and shook his head. “Off the record, I may have crossed the line with Amy Haven, but nothing happened. I showed her around town. I might have to have to reconsider how much I tell your husband about these things. On the record, I took it to heart when my father sold the company. It was a wake up call, and I realized I needed to make a few changes in my life. I decided to make something of myself, and I started with two of my strongest passions, good drinks and good conversation. It led to my first microbrewery, which surpassed my wildest expectations.”
“But how did you end up here in Newport? This is obviously a wonderful town, but so is Jackson Hole. Why did you leave, especially if you had just built a successful business? Why here? Did the ocean call to you? Did you fall in love with the quaint New England streets?” Monica asked.
Logan wondered how much of the real answer he should give. “Well, my family has had a house here for decades, and I’ve always loved the area. I left Jackson Hole because I wanted a fresh start. Aside from starting another restaurant, I wanted to leave my old ways behind me and become a better man, a more responsible, more mature version of myself.”
“And have you succeeded?” Monica asked.
Logan grinned. “The jury’s still out on me, but have a drink and you’ll see that the brewery is top notch.”
“Scandal does tend to follow you though, doesn’t it?” Monica added. She was really driving home this sex angle, wasn’t she? This was supposed to be a puff piece, not an expose. Logan tried to imagine the headline for the article, something about drinks with a handsome devil.
He’d make sure Monica didn’t print anything too revealing about him. After all, he had already decided not to mention that the inspiration for the Newport brewery had come to him while he was ducking the paparazzi after a very public fling with a pop star. Thank God she hadn’t asked about that. “It’s just one of the side effects of living well…” His words rang hollow, and he wondered if Monica really bought that line. He was playing into the picture she had started to paint of him. The playboy: come to rule over his new playground. It would be great press for the bar, not so much for him.
“The Independent, it’s an interesting name for a microbrewery. Some have even suggested that it might be more of a reference to your famously single lifestyle than anything else.”
“Well, it does lie at the end of Independence Wharf, but I’ll let our customers be the judge of that one. Either way, this place lives up to the name.”
“How so?” Monica asked.
“It’s distinctive, elegant but not fussy.” Logan ran his hand over the bar. “This bar and that accent wall over there are made of wood reclaimed from the original building that stood here. This city has withstood hurricanes and floods, fires, and every kind of human drama you could imagine, and the name is a nod to that independent spirit.” There was more that he wanted to say, more of the marketing spiel he had put together to highlight the unique flavor and quality of the beer, but he lost his train of thought. He was too busy staring out the window at Callie as she drank a glass of wine.
Monica put her pen and paper down on the bar and pushed them forward. She took a long look at Logan and turned to follow his gaze out the window, looking back to where she had been sitting earlier. She nodded her head toward Callie. ”Off the record, is she why you're so distracted? I've known you since you and Mike were in school together. He and I have been married for five years, and I think this is the first time you haven't been indecent enough to flirt with me. Is everything alright?"
Logan was still looking out toward Callie. The sun had sunk lower in the sky. It backlit her silhouette. He studied her gentle curves and wondered what kind of chance he had with her. As he thought about Callie, Monica’s words barely registered in his brain. "Um, yeah. Do you think I could have a minute, I just remembered something I have to do."
"Sure, I'll take the opportunity to go freshen up. Maybe you can clear your head. Then maybe we can finish the interview. I'm going to meet Mike for dinner in a little bit. Which way's the bathroom?"
Logan turned and pointed to the bathrooms. When he looked back out to the deck, Callie was gone. He had only looked away for a moment. Why did he care so much, and what she was doing? He scanned the room for her. Then he saw her, making her way to the door. He jumped up from his seat and walked over to her, trying to go as fast as possible without running.
As he tapped on her shoulder, Logan's mind went blank. Callie turned around and looked at him, and he stood there at a complete loss for words. He could smell the subtle lavender scent of her perfume, and he felt completely flummoxed. “Are you going so soon?" he finally blurted out. Logan wondered what he had done to scare her off so quickly.
"Yeah," she said. "I'm feeling really tired. It's been a long day. Besides, you don't need me hanging around while you're on a date."
"A date? She's a friend. Well, she's my friend's wife. She's a reporter. Why is this all coming out wrong? I'm giving an interview, and I'll be done in a few minutes. If you stick around, I can show you the restaurant, the city, whatever."
"I'd like that," Callie said, "but I think I've had enough excitement for one night. Goodnight, Logan."
As Callie headed out the door, Logan headed back to the bar.
"So that's what has you so distracted," Monica said, "or should I say who? Here I was thinking something bad had happened. Instead, it's something unprecedented. Logan Harris has a crush. So, wh
o is she?"
"A friend of the family."
"That's funny. When I showed up I thought she was the hostess. She even brought me outside to a table."
Logan squinted in disbelief. "Why would she do that?" he asked.
"Maybe she was looking to have you all to herself."
Logan laughed and signaled to the bartender for another round of the brewery’s flagship ale. "Yeah, I wish," he said.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and say she's into you."
"Alright, then let’s finish this interview so I can go find out." Logan took a pint glass from the bartender and took a long sip. It was time to find out a little bit more about Callie Haven.
Five
Callie leaned over the counter and tried to focus her eyes on the coffee maker. It was a stainless steel espresso maker with a finish so buffed that she could see her reflection. with some Italian name written in script above a maze levers and knobs. God, there were more knobs than she could count. Even if she had been fully awake, she'd never have had any idea how to operate the thing. Its complexity seemed like a cruel trick. Anyone who really needed coffee would be too tired to figure out how to use it. After ten minutes of fiddling with different settings and failing to produce anything resembling a cup of coffee, Callie gave up. She'd just walk into town and buy herself a cup of coffee. Logan probably wouldn't roll out of bed until noon, so she should have a few wonderful, peaceful hours to herself until then.
Logan. He knew that the sun would shine so brightly in the window of the master bedroom that it would wake her up early, and yet he didn't just tell her. No, he had to have the last laugh just because she wouldn't take his advice without a good reason. Callie made the trip upstairs and lugged all of her stuff down to the first floor bedroom. The room was still in shadow, and, with the blinds down, was wonderfully dark. Callie lay down on the bed and tried to fall back asleep, but she couldn't. She tossed and turned for an hour before getting up and getting ready to head into town.
The walk from the guesthouse into town wasn't an overly long one, but Callie decided to wander. The oceanfront mansions slowly gave way to green space, and soon Callie found herself in the middle of a neighborhood of small capes and colonials with vinyl siding and chain link fences. As she walked, she felt like a normal person for the first time in a long while. For once, she wasn’t surrounded by money and power.
The closer she got to the center of town, the older the houses became. Callie started to recognize the windows and porches from her previous walks around town. She had managed to walk the entire distance to town without even realizing it. The leafy streets soon gave way to busy intersections, and, before she knew it, Callie was back at the intersection of Thames Street and Americas Cup Ave. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a welcome sight — Henry and Evelyn.
They were standing in a doorway of one of the only shops open at that early hour. Henry was holding a sweatshirt up in the air and examining it. Callie could see NEWPORT written in block letters across the front. He put it down and wrapped his arm around Evelyn. Lacking anything better to do, Callie decided to follow behind to see how they were doing.
She slowly made her way down after them towards the shops off of America’s Cup Ave. She figured she’d stop as soon as she found a place to get coffee. She nearly jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun around to see another familiar face.
"What's up?" Logan asked.
Callie ran her hands through her hair and tried to straighten it. God, she wasn’t even wearing makeup. What the hell was he doing awake? Wasn’t he supposed to get up at noon everyday? “Not much, I'm just taking a walk."
"At this hour? Either you're an early bird or you slept upstairs,” Logan said. His grin gave away his pleasure at how things had worked out.
"You could have mentioned the sun thing,” Callie said.
"My father's a morning person. He liked his guests to get up early, too. The bedroom downstairs is better anyway. It's also that much closer to the water. It has that wonderful sea breeze. That room is one of my favorite places."
"You sound like you're about to move in,” she said. She made a mental note to move everything downstairs as soon as she got back to the guesthouse.
Logan laughed. "If you're offering, Blondie. So, tell me, who's the old couple?"
"What do you mean?" Callie asked. Was it weird that she was following two retirees down the street? Yes, yes it was. She knew that. Should she just play it cool or was Logan going to think she was some kind of voyeuristic weirdo?
"You've been looking over at them for the past ten minutes while keeping an equal distance behind. Either you happen to walk slower than everyone else under the age of seventy, or you're following them."
"Wait, how long have you been watching me?" Callie asked.
"I had just come to shore to get some coffee.”
"Don't you have a butler to do that for you?"
"Yeah, but he was busy shining the family coat of arms, so I figured I'd take care of it myself. Or was he stuffing my fireplace with hundred dollar bills? I can’t remember. If only my scribe were here to remind me.”
"I get it. You're being sarcastic," Callie said.
"Oh, is that what that was?" Logan asked. He gave Callie a gentle nudge with his elbow. "I do have a staff on the boat, a few people, just enough to keep it clean and afloat. Nothing over the top. I make my own coffee. Usually that means that I buy my own coffee. Come on, I’ll show you a place.”
"You're still talking about your yacht, right? That's over the top enough on its own. I’m sure you could find a place to store one bag of beans so you didn’t have to come all the way into town to get a cup of coffee”
“Well, the guesthouse has an espresso maker, and I don’t see you using it right now.”
“Point made,” Callie said.
"So you still haven't told me who the old folks are."
"Why don't you tell me?"
"Are you here on a secret assignment to keep them from causing some slow-moving scandal?"
"And if I were?" Callie asked.
"I'd tell you to let them lead their lives. They don't look like they're going to cause anyone any harm."
"They were on my flight," Callie said. "I gave up my seat so they could sit next to each other."
"How chivalrous of you."
"It was nothing," Callie said. "I hope I'm like them some day."
"Old? I mean you've already got the walking-impossibly-slow part down. Why don't you just go up to them and say hi?"
"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to interfere in their moment. Don't they look happy?"
"Yeah, I suppose they do. I don't know how anyone could be that happy about being awake at this hour."
"Aren't you?"
"Yeah, but that's different. I never went to sleep. This is just the very bright ending of a very long night."
"Oh?" Callie asked. "So your date went well?"
"Something like that," Logan replied. He flashed that smile that Callie had already grown to like so much. She wondered if he had said that solely to get a rise out of her. He seemed to enjoy her reaction more than anything else.
"Is that why you're all alone now?"
"I'm not alone. I'm with you. And soon we'll be with your grandparents over there."
"Don't!" Callie said quickly. She half shouted at him.
"Then come get some coffee with me."
"First it's coffee. Then it's dinner and drinks. Soon, everyone in Newport will think we're an item."
"I could ruffle up your hair and kiss you before we go into the coffee shop. That would probably be quicker," Logan replied.
Callie batted her eyelashes at Logan and said in her sweetest damsel-in-distress voice, "Oh, what can a poor, innocent girl like me do to resist such charm?"
"You think I'm charming?" Logan asked.
"It's called sarcasm," Callie said. She grabbed his arm and motioned to the coffee shop. "Come on, rich boy. Your coffee's on me."
"You still haven't told me why you're following the old folks," Logan said as they walked across the street and headed into the coffee shop. "Let me guess. You followed them up from DC. He looks too nice to be a politician. Maybe he's a judge, and she is his mistress. No, wait, that's too easy. I'm sure it's better than that. Maybe she's the judge, and he's her sister's husband. Am I getting close here? If you're not actually working right now, there must be something truly interesting about them to make you follow them around."
"There is," Callie said. "They're in love, truly in love, and have been for decades."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "They're in love? That's what makes them so interesting? No high-level political intrigue?"
"They both just retired. He was an accountant for the Congressional Budget Office. She worked for a law firm. Did you see way they look at each other? They're so in love. You do my job for any amount of time, and you stop believing that things can work out. It's just nice to know that they can."
"What about your sister and what's his name?" Logan asked.
"Ethan?"
"I know his name. I'm just still sore that he took my father's company."
"Ethan and Amy are in love. But they're still newlyweds. They waited so long to admit their feelings to each other, and now they're living the dream. I'm sure they'll last, but I just deal with so many clients with broken, loveless marriages. Like I said, seeing Henry and Evelyn just gives me hope. Forty five years of marriage, can you imagine? They saved up for this trip for years, the honeymoon they never had."
"Is that so?" Logan asked.
"Yeah, they got a hotel room on the waterfront down on Long Wharf. It's kind of adorable. I hope I have even a tenth of what they have." Callie stopped to order the coffee. She got her usual, a caramel cappuccino with extra foam. Logan opted for black iced coffee. He held out his credit card to pay.