Unsettled

by Ellington, S. C.

  “No, my father is many things, but being in tune with his feelings isn’t one of his strong suits.” I couldn’t miss the irony in his statement. I wondered if Logan knew how alike he and his father were in that sense. We had decided to open up to one another, but that was only after we both spent weeks reigning in our true feelings.

  “Six years ago I graduated from Cornell University, with a degree in Business Management and Accounting. When I enrolled at Cornell, my dad’s master plan was for me to finish my education as soon as possible. Cornell is my parents’ alma mater. My educational journey was preordained from an early age. As the oldest I was expected to gain admission to Cornell, graduate, and then accept a mid-level accounting position at my father’s accountancy firm in Virginia, until I was groomed enough to take over the business. From the outset, accounting was never a field I was particularly interested in. At the time though, I wasn’t strong enough to tell my father I wasn’t interested in accounting because I ultimately wanted him to be proud that he raised a productive member of society. Plus, I carried what he’d revealed to me so many years before with me daily,” he explained.

  “Ultimately, I muddled through four years at Cornell and graduated. Three months after graduation I had a cozy office in my father’s sky rise, but I was completely miserable focusing on line-item cost analysis and expenses. I stayed on at the company for two years after graduation, but the whole time I was hatching a plan to make an escape.

  “My grandparents had trusts set up for me and my siblings when we were very young. That money became available when I turned twenty-four. Unbeknownst to my parents I decided to cash out my trust fund and combine it with the money that I had saved to start my own business. I’d also reached out to some of my father’s more established business partners to pull together more backing for my business venture. Luckily a few of my father’s close associates understood my desire to move on and decided to help me out. I wanted to pursue a career that I was passionate about. I really wasn’t interested in being part of the résumé-driven society that required me to wear a suit and tie religiously; that lifestyle was never for me. I can handle it a few times a month, but no more than that.

  “The day I told my father I no longer was planning on working at the firm, he was infuriated. Once he realized that I wasn’t jumping into my business venture with my eyes closed or banking on a whim and a prayer, he eased up a bit. To her credit though, my mother played a role in chiding my father to see the up side to my venturing out on my own; she’s always been the more level-headed of the pair.”

  “I thought that when Colton Capital Management cleared a million in revenue I’d be content, but somewhere along the way my work has become my life,” he said, shrugging unapologetically and taking another sip of his drink.

  “Nature of the beast, I suppose,” he continued. “Once the business started obtaining residual revenue streams, I bought out the partners who initially invested in Colton Capital Management. Once Scott finished college, he came on as a silent partner to help grow our business.”

  “Well, you’ve managed to use your drive to steer you into positive directions. That in itself is something to be proud of,” I offered, even though I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be that same trait that would inevitably drive a wedge between us.

  “Have you ever talked to anyone about all of this?” I asked.

  “Not really into all that shrink stuff,” he said, blowing off my question. I wasn’t exactly on the therapist cheering squad, but after my miscarriage I’d found talking to one useful enough. Maybe he would come around in time.

  I decided it was probably time to switch the subject, since I knew that the issue with Logan’s father and his subsequent guilt wouldn’t get solved with one discussion—especially not if he was unwilling to face the issue head on. All I could do was hope that one day he’d come to grips with the fact that the whole situation that he’d endured was out of his hands, and he wasn’t to blame.

  “So, what were you talking about earlier when you told your dad that we have plans?” I asked as I watched the sun slip behind the horizon.

  “Yeah, about that,” he said, turning to face me. Mischief played in his eyes, and he cocked his lips into a smile.

  “Well, I have to admit that I may have lured you here under false pretense,” Logan began.

  “What do you mean?” I didn’t like the sound of his admission.

  “We do have plans tonight, but they’re with two hundred and fifty other people at a charity benefit.”

  My eyes shot back, past my hairline. “Logan! Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t bring anything to wear! They won’t let me through the front door,” I groaned, “and it’s already getting late!”

  Logan laughed at my response. “Don’t worry, your outfit is waiting upstairs,” he said breezily, flinging his arm over my shoulder. He leaned in and kissed my temple. Logan pulled me back toward the house.

  “And how exactly did you pull that off?” I asked, looking at him pointedly, grilling him with my eyes.

  “I have friends in the right places,” he teased.

  “So what you’re really saying is you enlisted the help of my dear friend Alex,” I countered. There was no way that he’d managed finding out my dress size without help from someone who was privy to that information. I sucked my lip to keep from laughing, as I attempted to stare him down as we walked back toward the house.

  “Yes, that is correct,” he laughed.

  AFTER TAKING A RATHER quick shower, where I was conveniently interrupted by a naked Logan, I entered his spacious bedroom to find that my gown for the evening had already been laid out for me. I was taken aback by the dress’s sheer and subtle beauty.

  The garment was smoky green with lace flower–embroidered rhinestone flowers on the shoulder straps. The dress was beautiful, but it wasn’t an overstated piece that it would draw attention to me. I liked how it was so me. Next to the bed was a pair of t-strap, zip-back, rhinestone-studded heels that matched perfectly. Alex hadn’t missed a beat by picking out a matching clutch, earrings, and hair comb.

  While Logan finished showering, I slipped out of his room in just a bathrobe and ventured down the hallway to another spare bedroom suite. I wanted to get dressed privately to surprise Logan. I hoped I looked as nice in the dress as he thought I would.

  After an hour of moisturizing, curling, and squeezing into shapeware that had been conveniently hidden under the gown, I slipped into my dress and was thrilled that it fit perfectly.

  I slid my feet into the heels and stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom. I had decided to wear my hair in a pinned side swoop of curls that played on my shoulders and framed my face. The empire waist and ruching along the v-neck brought just the amount of attention, necessary to make me feel elegant, but at the same time didn’t scream “Hi, I’m his whore for the evening,” which I was thankful for since sometimes Alex’s dress selections could be a bit risqué.

  When I finished picking over my appearance, I made my way back down the hall and into Logan’s room. I slid through the opening of the bedroom door.

  “You look—beautiful,” he said. He looked just as handsome in a three-piece black tuxedo. To my surprise, he was wearing a smoky green bow tie that matched my dress. I had to laugh.

  “Are we going to prom?” I joked as I stepped closer to him.

  “Nope, but there won’t be any question who you’re with,” he said, pecking me on the lips. “Shall we?” he asked.

  “Let’s do it before my feet fall off,” I said, eyeing my heels and smiling. Logan gave me a knowing smile and escorted me out of his bedroom. “While you look beautiful in that dress, I’m having a hard time not thinking about how long it will be before I can unzip you out of it.”

  We made our way downstairs and through the kitchen, walking through a side door that led into a garage.

  Logan flipped a switch in the garage and the space instantly brightened.

  The Range Rover
sat in a designated spot in the three-bay garage. I stopped in front of the passenger door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Aren’t we taking the Range?” I asked.

  “No, c’mon,” he said, pulling me back to his side. I followed Logan past the SUV and stopped abruptly in front of a pewter-colored Mercedes that had been hidden from my view.

  “Wow, this is a nice car,” I said.

  “That it is,” he said, smirking back at me.

  “What is it?” I asked. The car looked to be vintage and I definitely hadn’t seen one on the road.

  “Get your pen and pad ready, it’s a mouthful. She is a 1954 Mercedes 300SL Gulwing, but for short I call her the Sea Gal,” he said, smiling proudly as he unlocked my door. “Step back while she spreads her wings,” he joked. He was like a proud father dotting over his daughter. I enjoyed seeing him act like a giddy schoolboy over his car.

  “Wow, fancy,” I responded, keeping up with his banter. Logan helped me get settled into the bright red leather bucket seats, then closed down the door.

  I marveled at all the little knobs and the wood grain steering wheel.

  A few seconds later Logan was sitting next to me and pulling down his driveway into the night.

  “I’ve never seen a car like this before. Where did you get it?” I asked, adjusting my seat belt so that I didn’t wrinkle my dress.

  “It was my grandfather’s,” he responded. “I guess he knew how much I liked it, so he left it to me in his will,” he said somberly.

  I didn’t know how to respond to his comment, so I just stayed quiet and we pulled through the gate and onto the street.

  21

  Twenty minutes later, Logan pulled the Mercedes into the valet area underneath a brown concrete building. I quickly pulled down the sun visor and checked my makeup before I got out of the car. I was a little nervous. Two hours earlier, I had no plans of rubbing elbows with benefactors at a charity event. I definitely looked the part of a savvy socialite, now I had to play the part. That was a role I wasn’t very comfortable with.

  “Good evening Mr. Colton,” the valet porter greeted as he took Logan’s keys. The valet runner stepped to my side of the car and helped me out of the coupe. The valet staff knew Logan? He must come here often.

  “Thank you,” I said, standing and adjusting the bottom of my gown. I walked to Logan and inserted my arm through his.

  We walked through a glass enclosure that housed plush cherry blossom trees and up a series of marbled stairs. When we reached the lobby, Logan steered us toward a guest table near the entrance of a ballroom door.

  “Good evening sir, this way please,” the table attendant said as she walked us to our seats. Annual L.L.A.P. Benefit, Ballroom Four, the sign read as we crossed the threshold into an opulent dining room, with a dance floor perfectly centered under a chandelier. I wondered what L.L.A.P. stood for, but figured I would find out soon enough.

  We were escorted to a table at the front of the ballroom, and immediately my blood spiked.

  “Your family is here?” I asked, slightly shocked. Logan’s father was sitting at the table we were headed toward. Now knowing why Logan disliked his father, I had a hard time being impartial.

  “Yes, they are. Why wouldn’t they be?” he asked. He seemed confused by my question.

  “Oh—I just didn’t know this was a family affair,” I responded smoothly.

  As we approached our table, a man stood to greet us. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Hey man, nice to see you.” He obviously knew Logan, and they had a slight resemblance. “I didn’t know you were bringing a date,” he finished.

  “Scott, this is Brooklyn. Brooklyn, meet Scott, my brother.” Scott. He’d been in the meeting of the minds that day.

  Scott shook my hand platonically, and I returned the gesture, smiling amiably.

  “Nice to meet you,” Scott said. “Can’t say I’ve heard much about you, but then again, if you know Logan well, you know he isn’t a huge talker.”

  “Are you kidding me, I can’t get him to be quiet,” I joked.

  Scott laughed. It was the response I was looking for, something to keep the mood lighter than the way I felt being in the same proximity with a man who made his child feel reviled.

  “Brooklyn, you’ve already met my father, but this lovely woman is my mother, Olivia,” Logan said, gesturing in his mother’s direction.

  “Nice to see you again, Brooklyn,” Logan Sr. said, standing from his seat to greet me. I shook Logan Sr.’s hand and forced myself to plaster a smile onto my face.

  Logan’s mother stood, and I found myself wondering if I looked appropriate enough to be meeting his mother. I didn’t have much experience trying to impress a significant other’s parents, being that Damon’s parents took to me right away and his mother treated me more like a daughter than anything. I hadn’t planned on meeting any other members of Logan’s immediate family, and found myself feeling slightly self-conscious.

  Mrs. Colton stood from her seat and offered her dainty hand, which donned a beautiful smoky quartz ring. It matched her cream-colored chiffon evening dress. Mrs. Colton was the epitome of elegance. Not one brown ringlet was out of place.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Brooklyn. I love your dress,” Olivia remarked, smiling warmly. Her comment put me at ease immediately.

  “Thank you. I love your outfit, too,” I complimented.

  Logan interrupted our conversation, “And this is Laura, my sister, her husband, Jonathan, and Scott’s girlfriend, Alisa,” he said, rounding out the introductions. Laura was a spitting image of Logan, green eyes and all. I greeted the rest of the table and then took my seat, admiring the tall cream and yellow rose pomander centerpieces. Logan took his seat next to me.

  “Should I be expecting to meet any more of your family?” I asked, motioning to the two empty chairs across from me.

  “No, that’s all of them.”

  As we sat and politely mingled and waited for the evening to begin, I saw a flicker of purple out of the corner of my eye.

  “Hey girlie,” a familiar voice whispered behind me.

  “Alex?” I said, turning all the way in my seat. Alex and Jay were standing behind me in full evening attire. Alex was in a mid-length lilac formal dress and shimmering dangle earrings, with Jay looking handsome in a black tuxedo and slim tie.

  “You clean up nicely, B,” Jay said, nodding his head in approval of my appearance.

  I stood to give them both hugs. “What are you guys doing here?” I asked, astonished.

  “Alex, Jay, glad you two could make it. Please have a seat. Let me introduce you to my family,” Logan said, now standing beside me. Apparently I was the only one left out of his masterful plan.

  “You look smashing in that dress by the way,” Alex whispered in my ear.

  “Yeah, you have quite a bit of explaining to do, young lady.” Alex smirked and made her way to the other side of the table, opposite me.

  “So, you’re in cahoots with my friends, I see,” I said impassively, sipping from the glass of water that was in front of me.

  “I figured you’d feel out of place not knowing anyone, and I wanted you to escort me. I thought you’d like to have your best friend around,” he murmured.

  Before I had the opportunity to respond to Logan’s sneakiness, a man’s voice boomed through the speakers near the stage.

  “If I may please have your attention, we’d like to get started,” he continued. “As most of you may know, my name is Alan Colton, and I will be your master of ceremonies this evening. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to the seventh annual Living Life After Prosthesis gala. On behalf of myself and the rest of the members of the Colton family, we hope that you enjoy yourself and find it in your hearts to support our worthy cause. Before we begin the festivities, I would like to invite my cousin and founder of L.L.A.P. to say a few words. Please join me in welcoming Logan Colton to the stage,” he finish
ed.

  My eyes balked and I peered in Logan’s direction. Why hadn’t he told me that he was the reason behind this function? Something that I was learning very quickly about Logan was that he played things pretty close to his chest. It was now painfully obvious to me that Logan’s confessions about being obsessed with work were really about him being racked with guilt.

  Logan didn’t respond to my slight glare, he just smiled uneasily and stood from his seat to head toward the stage near the back of the ballroom. I think he may have saw the flickering light bulbs in my head.

  My thoughts were momentarily jarred as I watched Logan on stage. I couldn’t help but admire how dapper he looked with the long cream drapes serving as his backdrop. His eyes matched the green tie that was fastened around his neck, which I found to be irresistible. The frostiness I’d felt a few seconds earlier was melted when his voice filtered through the microphone.

  “Thank you all for coming to our seventh annual Living Life After Prosthesis gala. As most of you are aware, this charity holds a special place in my heart—my brother Scott is an amputee who has not let his disability hamper him in any way. He enjoys living life to the fullest, and I for one endeavor to be more like him every day.” His words touched a place deep in my heart. On some level I felt pity for Logan. It seemed like he was living his life as a constant reminder of what he’d lost and what once was. Logan’s voice drifted back into my ears, pulling me back from my internal quandaries.

  “I am thrilled and honored that you all have decided to participate in such a great cause. As a reminder, all donations can be made out directly to L.L.A.P. and dropped into the secure donation boxes around the room. All proceeds will be divvied between various organizations throughout our nation and abroad. Once again, thank you for attending and wanting to make a difference.”

  Logan swiftly stepped back from the microphone and made his way back to our table.

  As I watched him head back toward me he was stopped by a few attendees. Alex stole my attention away from looking at Logan.