A/N: So I really meant to get this up earlier today, but that clearly didn't happen. Anyway, thank you all for your wonderful reviews and taking the time to read this. I know many of you were upset with Veronica's current situation. Don't worry, all will be explained. Just not in this chapter. This is a Logan chapter. For the next couple of chapters, I will alternate between Logan and Veronica. So, Chapter Four will be a Veronica chapter. Also, super thanks to my wonderful betas. I know I would never be able to catch all of my mistakes on my own.
A long week passed by slowly consisting of scrapped pages and binge drinking in a desperate attempt to have conversations with Katarina. Logan finally finished his novel, though he was certainly much worse for the wear. The sun was beginning to peek into the living room by the time he again passed out on the couch. Katarina was the last image he saw before allowing his heavy eyelids succumb to sleep; he could have sworn she was smiling.
"Mr. Echolls? Mr. Echolls!" Marcus Johnson, Logan's assistant, called as he let himself into the house, frantically hitting redial on his cell phone. Marcus hadn't been able to reach him all morning and was growing concerned. He was the publishing company's response to Logan's record of unreliable behavior. It was his responsibility to deliver a presentable, and on time, Logan to all of his appointments, since Logan could not be trusted to do either on his own.
As an ex-military man, Marcus had seen far worse than the juvenile party-boy ways of his client. He moved about the house, trying to juggle the tray of coffees and Logan's dry cleaning in one hand, the newspaper, Logan's mail and his day planner in the other, while balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear. His frustration grew as he heard Logan's "inspirational message" for the seventh time this morning.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Marcus placed everything on the kitchen counter before pressing the "end call" button on his cell phone. "Mr. Echolls?" he called out again, trying to determine a direction to begin looking for him.
Unfortunately, the only response came from the over energetic dog that Logan insisted upon keeping around, despite his ability to make a box of rocks appear intelligent. Dick barreled into the kitchen, running at top speed, ready to jump at his master's stressed assistant. However, having seen this maneuver before, Marcus sidestepped the dog with an annoyed sigh and waited as the dog sped past him, lost his footing and then slid head first into the sliding glass door.
Knowing that the dog rarely left Logan's side, Marcus ventured off in the direction that the dog had come from, checking his watch for the umpteenth time that morning. "Mr. Echolls?" he called again as he rounded the corner. "Mr. Echolls, your meeting with the publisher is in an hour," he reminded, knocking on the door of the den, which had been left ajar.
After waiting a moment, he pushed the door open and entered the room. Passed out on the couch was Logan. Judging by the scene spread out in front of him, Marcus knew Logan had too much to drink again. He shook his head, picking up an overturned empty bottle and setting it upright on the bar as he entered. Next he knelt down to pick up another discarded glass, this one next to the sleeping man, making a note to have the maid take care of the stain on the rug.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he said softly into Logan's ear, holding back a grin, knowing that the peaceful wakeup call would not work. Instead, he banged the glass down on the bar beside him and watched as Logan startled awake. "Good, you're up," Marcus held his grin as he checked his watch, "Your first meeting this morning is in less than an hour and…"
Logan cut him off, "Can't you reschedule it for… later?" he mumbled, shoving his face back into the couch.
Marcus shook his head, "You must have forgotten that the reason I am here is because you asked me to do that last week.. Now get up."
Again, Logan mumbled something into the couch but made no effort to move. With a sigh, Marcus moved closer to him and threw the grown man over his shoulder, carrying him out of the living room. The sad truth of the matter was that this was not the first time he had done this and it probably wouldn't be the last.
A flight of stairs later, Marcus deposited Logan into the shower, fully clothed, and turned the cold water on full blast. "Your clothes will be waiting on the bed," Marcus informed, "and if you are not out of that shower and dressed in fifteen minutes, you will be attending this meeting naked."
It took Logan a moment as he stood and fumbled with the knobs in the shower, trying to warm it up. He slipped twice, before finally grabbing on to them and turning up the heat. Grumbling, he stripped his clothes off, throwing them into a sopping pile outside of the shower, before grabbing the bottle of body wash from the ledge.
His shower was far from productive. There was a high probability that there was still shampoo in his hair and for some reason he smelled like flowers instead of musk. Marcus, however, looked thrilled when Logan finally joined him in the kitchen, "Don't we look nice?" he commented, clearly amused,, and handing Logan the cup of coffee he had brought.
Logan brought the cup to his lips and confirmed his suspicions: lukewarm. Making a face, he tossed the cup into the basket before digging into the pastry bag on the counter. "We're stopping for fresh coffee on the way," he informed, pulling a muffin from the bag.
Marcus threw his hands up in defeat as he ushered Logan out the front door, stopping to grab his day planner and cell phone on his way outbefore joining Logan in the car waiting in the driveway. "Mr. Echolls," Marcus began, trying to get Logan's attention away from the driver and back on him.
"Mr. Echolls!" he repeated, pressing the button to roll up the divider between them.
Logan let out a breath and sat back in his seat, "I've told you, call me Logan."
Marcus nodded, "Logan," he said, uneasily, "I need to go over your calendar with you. Next week, the art director, Mr. Henshley, would like to go over prospective book covers with you. I told him that you have an opening on Tuesday morning."
"Can we push it to the afternoon? I think I'm going to be hung over that morning. Actually, from now on, can we push all of my meetings to the afternoon? That would be great," Logan said, trying to get comfortable and go back to sleep.
Again, Marcus pushed, "No, you cannot do it in the afternoon. Tuesday afternoon you have a preliminary meeting with your director to discuss the movie. We've gone over this, Logan. You're the one who wanted to be included, remember?"
Logan waved his hand at Marcus as he continued talking, "Mister Richard Casablancas II requests your presence at Rachel Kelly Casablancas' first birthday party on the twentieth at their home on the vineyard. Mr. Casablancas asked that you be reminded that you are Rachel's godfather and your attendance is mandatory. Shall I pick her up a gift or can you be trusted to do that yourself?"
Again, Logan acted like a child, rolling his eyes at Dick's self-imposed importance, "Tell Dick I'll be there."
He stood in front of the mirror, attempting to tie the bowtie that Dick had insisted all of the groomsmen wear. What was wrong with a regular tie? "Dick, do you even know how to tie a bowtie?" Logan complained, pulling the thing from his neck.
"I told you, it's Richard now," he insisted, slipping in his cufflinks, "Clover thinks the name Dick is vulgar."
Logan shook his head and tried to hold back a laugh, "Dick is vulgar. I'm sure Richard doesn't behave any better. What kind of name is Clover anyway?"
"Will you shut up? You're just mad that I'm getting married first," Dick responded, reaching for his own tie and turning to Logan, "I'm sorry that your plan didn't work out but what you need to do is sell the damn ring and actually move on with your life because let's face it man, Ronnie is never coming back. Besides, you're with Ashley now, so be with Ashley. Or don't be with Ashley. Clover's got some pretty hot friends, you know."
He shook his head and turned away from him, clenching his hand into a fist and then letting it go, shaking it out. It was Dick's wedding day, after all, he was allowed to be a jerk. Taking an uneasy breath, he picked up the bowtie again and left the room.
"Great," Marcus said with feigned enthusiasm as he went down his list, "I scheduled your headshots with Mr. DiMarco for the 22nd at noon. You'll want to look your best, so no drinking the night before. Understood?" Marcus paused for a response.
Logan closed his eyes and began ignoring Marcus. In reality, it didn't matter what he said, Marcus would schedule the meetings and harass him about attendance until he was sitting in the meeting anyway. What difference did it make if he voiced an opinion about his schedule?
When Marcus received no response, he continued "The National Rifle Association would love for your to speak at their benefit on the—"
Logan cut him off with a short but firm, "No."
"What? Mr. Echolls, you write about people using guns all the time, the association would…" again he was cut off and growing increasingly frustrated.
Logan slumped further in his seat, "No guns. That's final. I will not be some poster boy telling people it is okay to own a gun."
"But," Marcus argued, "Attending a charitable event would look good for your career, great publicity for your new book and your movie."
"So find me something else," Logan grumbled back, "No guns. What about kid's cancer? Or AIDS? Those are still things, right? Get me into a benefit for one of those if you want one so badly. Where is my coffee?"
Marcus didn't say another word as he scribbled a note into his planner and watched the scenery pass in the window, hoping that the office had somehow moved itself twenty minutes closer.
By the time the car pulled into the office park, Logan was fast asleep and Marcus was busy searching for a Logan-approved charitable event on his cell phone. With a heavy sigh, he pressed the button to lower the partition, glancing over to Logan and back to the building before meeting the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror.
The driver nodded with a smile and laid on the horn, causing Logan to jump. His look of alarm was quickly replaced by a scowl as he got out of the car, "It wasn't funny last week when you did that and it isn't funny today," Logan grumbled as he passed by Marcus on his way into the building.
"I thought it was hilarious," Marcus smirked, easily catching up to Logan and grabbing the door for him. Logan stormed past him into the lobby and Marcus could tell that the morning's meeting was going to be anything but productive.
Once everyone was seated in the conference room, Miss Jacobs, Logan's editor, began to speak. "First, I would like to say that we were delighted to receive your final chapters this morning, only a week after your deadline, Mr. Echolls. Congratulations. It seems that Mr. Johnson was a wise investment. However, we weren't thrilled with the ending," she began, shuffling through the printed pages of his novel in front of her.
"Who is this 'we' you speak of?" Logan asked defensively.
Miss Jacobs stopped shuffling, "As I have expressed in the past six meetings, 'we' is the team of editors looking over your draft. I don't do everything myself, Mr. Echolls." She placed her glasses on the table and rubbed her temples.
Logan leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table, "Well maybe you should. It sounds like your 'team' couldn't tell good writing from their own over-paid asses ."
The woman sent a pleading look to Marcus, before looking back to Logan. "Mr. Echolls, you set everyone on fire. I'm not sure how this gets justice for Katrina."
"Kat-AH-rina," Logan corrected, standing from his seat, "If you read it, you'd know her name is Katarina."
"Mr. Echolls," Marcus warned.
He ran his hand through his hair, "For the hundredth time, it's Logan. Jesus Christ, does anybody in this room pay attention to names?" He slammed his fist down on the table and looked between the pair.
"Excuse me," Miss Jacobs said, standing and rubbing the bridge of her nose, "I need aspirin." She quickly exited the room.
Marcus stared at Logan with a disapproving glare. "You set everyone on fire?" he questioned.
Logan shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, again. Old habits die hard. "I don't remember. I was drunk. You saw me this morning." Had he really ended his novel by killing off an entire town of people to avenge Katarina's death? He must have had a good reason for it last night.
Before Logan could sit back down, Miss Jacobs had returned, ready for round two. "Here's what we're going to do," she began, turning to Logan, "You are going to write a new ending for this novel that does not involve a horrific fire by the next time we meet. In return, we are going to pretend that this ending never existed. If you don't we will have to let both of you go and we will hire another writer to finish your novel, since the contract that you signed grants us the right to do that and you will get nothing. Do you understand?"
Logan opened his mouth to argue, but Marcus stepped in instead. "He understands. Believe me, he understands," the larger man confirmed, "He will have a new, flameless ending for you by next week; I guarantee it."
Miss Jacobs nodded and began straightening her papers, "Thank you. Otherwise, the novel was wonderful. We haven't seen writing like this in decades. Truly inspirational work, Mr. Echolls, I would hate for this to be taken away from you."
Marcus nodded and led Logan out of the room before Miss Jacobs inflated his ego so large that he wouldn't fit.
A/N: I would love you guys forever and three days if you hit the little button down there and left a review. They mean the world to me and keep me writing. Also, super thanks to all of you guys who are following and favorited this story/me. I love to when my inbox is full of sweet things from my Marshmallows. Thank you!
