Chapter 10 Protect and Serve

"I want to drive." Veronica said as they came out of Maynard's. "Let me saddle up that bronc." Without a word, Logan tossed her the keys.

Fifteen minutes later, he looked at her with a smirk on his face and said "FYI; when you're in a bright yellow Ferrari, going twenty five over the limit, you're gonna get stopped. It's Newton's fourth law of motion."

"Inertia says I was gonna keep going faster until I got stopped." Veronica looked at him as she pulled off the shoulder. "What; no worries! I flashed him my 'Get out of Speeding Ticket Free' card."

"Yeah, I'm sure the bureau will be happy your credentials have been put to such good use."

"Quit bringing me down. When did you become Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes?"

"I don't know." He said, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Man. This is a machine!" Veronica said. "We gotta get this thing out on the road; open her up!"

"Too bad there's no autobahn in the states."

"I'll say. There is, however, the great state of Montana. They only have a speed limit because the fascist feds forced 'em to establish one. Hundreds of miles of interstate with no traffic and no troopers."

"Are you allowed to talk about the feds that way, now that you are one?"

"I'm off duty. So how about it? Montana; might be worth the trip."

"You do know that Montana is clear on the other side of North Dakota, right?"

"God, we really are in the middle of the country, aren't we?"

"My people have always referred to this as 'fly-over country'."

"How dismissive." She frowned.

"My people are assholes."

Soon they had reached Lake Calhoun, the turn to Dean Parkway and home. The temperature had dropped with the sun and it was now a beautiful, comfortable night under a starry, summer sky.

"Should we crack open that bottle Candy brought us?" Logan asked as they strolled through the back yard to the house.

"Mmmm. Yes. That sounds delightful." Veronica said. "Bring it out here?"

"As you wish." He went into the kitchen to open the wine. Veronica dropped into a chair on the patio. Almost immediately, she was attacked by mosquitoes. She jumped up and ran to the kitchen, where she almost crashed into Logan, coming back out with the wine and a pair of glasses.

"I was comin' back." he assured her.

"Bugs!" she shook her head.

"Plan B." He nodded. "Sun room."

In the sunroom, Veronica held the door while he brought in two of the chairs off the patio. The breeze cooled the night enough so that they turned off the air conditioning and opened all the windows in the sun room. With the lights off, it was as good as being outside. Better, if one factored in the mosquitoes.

"We need some furniture in here." Veronica said, accepting a glass from Logan. "This will be such a great room to hang out in."

"Yep." He poured wine into her glass, then raised his own. "To my muse."

"And her adorable husband." Veronica added, raising her own glass.

She was alone on the roof of the Neptune Grand. It was night and she was crying. She could see the lights of a tiny plane in the western sky.

"Nothing happened, Honey." She heard her father's voice and she turned. Keith was standing near the door to the stairway. "It's okay." He assured her.

"LOGAN!" She screamed, pointing at the approaching plane just as it exploded in the sky over Neptune.

She awoke with a sob, her heart hammering, still gripped by the horror of her dream and disoriented by a bedroom full of noise and flash. She flinched in confusion with the next explosion of sound. What seemed like a gale force wind was blowing through the open bedroom windows, filling the sheers like spinnakers. She was on the verge of panic and then he was there, wrapping himself around her.

"Shh." He whispered, folding her up in his arms. "It's just a storm."

"Oh!" she gasped. The solid warmth of him dispelled the nightmare as she turned her face into his neck and inhaled deeply of his scent. She snaked her arm around him in relief, clutching him tightly as another impossibly loud crash shook the house.

"Hey, it's okay." He breathed into her ear. "It's nothing. Just thunder."

"I had a nightmare." She shook her head. "you…"

"It's over." He stroked her hair. "I'm here."

She nodded and sighed. Slowly, her heart rate decelerated and she was able to relax but she couldn't let go of him.

She opened her eyes in the morning to bright sunshine streaming in through the Eastern windows again. She was in the middle of the bed and Logan was half on top of her, one arm curled around her head. Even in his sleep, his attitude was one of possession and protection. She smiled, nuzzling him briefly, wishing she didn't have to get up so soon. Gently, she lifted his arm off of her and rolled to the edge of the bed.

He walked into the bathroom just as she was stepping out of the shower.

"Good morning," she said, reaching for a towel.

"Holy cow." He stopped and stared as she dried herself off. "You've ruined me for bathrooms forever."

"Finding a naked woman in your shower is one of the many perks of being married." She informed him as she hung the towel and reached for her robe.

"Aw, you ruined me for bathrooms a long time ago." He grabbed her as she tried to walk by, spun her around and sat her on the vanity, inserting himself between her knees and sliding his hands into her robe.

"We don't have time for this!" she protested, giggling, as he attacked her throat.

"Yeah, we do." He growled, pulling her tightly against him.

He was right.

When she got downstairs, all smoothed down and professional looking, he was at the table on the patio with a cup of coffee and the paper, his feet propped up on the chair next to him. She poured herself a cup and joined him, looking enviously at his bare feet and chest while she was zipped and buttoned into another business like suit. Clad only in pajama pants, his hair standing straight up, he looked good enough to eat…again. She looked out at the lawn, the grass lush, green and wet.

"So it really did rain last night." She said, sitting down. "I thought I'd dreamt it all."

"I know. If it weren't for the puddles and some tree debris, you'd never know."

"That was wild. Looks like it's gonna be a gorgeous day." She sipped her coffee. "Are you going to the lake?"

"Yeah, at least for a couple hours." He opened up the metro section of the paper.

"Lucky dog."

"Come with me." He looked at her over the paper.

"You know I can't."

"Your call." He turned back to the paper. "I swear this whole 'work' thing really cuts into our fun time."

"My fun time. Your time seems to be all in one piece." She grumbled.

"It's always more fun with you."

"Good to know. But I think our time apart makes the time together better."

"So you won't be eating your heart out with envy that I'm at the lake and you're at the office?"

"I love my work but...yeah, sometimes."

"Just so we're clear; we can get by without your income."

"Also good to know." She took another sip of coffee and shrugged. "I'm just not the 'lounging around at the beach having fun all day' sort of girl."

"I know. You're more a 'find the missing coed' sort of girl." He frowned at the newspaper.

"Well, that's fairly specific. What are you reading?"

"College student, 19 years old, last seen downtown…a week ago. Why do I read this stuff? It's such a downer."

"Well, yeah. Usually you just stick to the Wall Street Journal."

"Eh. Talk about a downer."

"'Eh'?"

"I'm learning to speak Minnesotan."

"Not 'ey'?"

"Minnesotan, not Canadian. It's a subtle difference, like 'recession' and 'depression'."

"Oh? My income may come in handy, yet."

"You betcha. Actually, Kane Software is up. Sales of the fiend's dvd's are still up. We're good."

"You spend the day at the beach and every night when you come home, you're worth more. God Bless America!"

"Every day we're worth more. We'll have hot dogs and apple pie for dinner tonight."

"That sounds awesome. Gotta go." She finished her coffee and stood. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"It wasnt' my fault; I didn't start it." He said automatically.

"You never do," she said, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head.

"Morning, Veronica," Agent Tuski said, standing next to the coffee machine with Agent Sheppard.

"Good morning." Veronica smiled serenly as she floated past. Tuski rolled her eyes at Shep.

"I can't wait to meet that girl's husband." she said.

Veronica sat at her desk, stowed her bag in the bottom drawer and shook herself, trying to get into a more businesslike frame of mind. Her cell buzzed and she picked it up, saying brusquely "Mars."

"Veronica?" a female voice asked.

"Marla!" Veronica's voice changed instantly. "Sorry about the FBI greeting; I'm at the office. How are you?"

"I'm great. I got your message about the wine and I just had to call-"

"Oh, I know; you didn't send it. Logan told me Candy put your name on it and used it as an excuse to drop by. Poor guy wanted Logan's help with something and didn't think he could just ask."

"Candy? Did you hear he quit? Bruce is heartbroken. Called and accused me of wooing away his office help. I don't think he believes I didn't offer the boy a job. I'm not surprised he finally left; Bruce never could keep his hands to himself. Maybe Logan can show Candy how to belt that fat fuck in the face. Oh. Sorry. Bruce brings out the worst in me."

"Really? I could not tell. I think that's exactly what Candy was hoping Logan could help him with. Fortunately, Logan gets a kick out of him. Say, Marla; I was thinking of calling you anyway. I love the house so much! We've begun to furnish it but...I need some help."

"Oh! I know a few decorators, would you like me to recommend someone?"

"No...Could I buy you lunch today and explain what I think I need?"

"Of course! Is Elliot invited? He'll mope all day if he's not."

"Of course Elliot is invited!" Veronica laughed. "But if Bruce shows up, I'm having him arrested."

"Oh, Bruce wouldn't be caught dead in any of the places I like to lunch."

It was another hot, windy day at Lake Calhoun. Logan had no idea what was normal for Minnesota but the weather since he'd moved to town had been a wind surfer's dream. The water was choppy but warm, the sun was hot, the air humid and the wind refreshing. Although he was new to the sport, its mysteries were familiar to him; his core strength and balance were excellent and his knowledge of sailing extensive. Simply put, it was a combination of two of his favorite past times and he picked it up easily, having a blast, flying the length and breadth of the city lake like a pro. If there was such a thing as golf on a sail board, he'd only come off the water to eat and see Veronica. He liked to spend a few hours each morning on the water before cloistering himself in the library and working all afternoon. Frequently, if he felt the need, he would head back to the lake for an hour or so before Veronica got home from work.

Like surfing, sail boarding provided him with peace and quiet. He had originally fallen for the sport because out on the water his father could neither join him nor reach him. You could go surfing with a large group and on the beach it would be a party but when you caught a wave, you were alone, no matter how many others rode the same swell.

Eventually he discovered that solitude had many rewards. It was out on the waves that he had solved many of his problems and come up with some of his best ideas. How to get Weevil reinstated in high school; using Hannah to force her dad to recant his perjury and throwing a replacement prom had all presented themselves on the water. The opportunity to go deep inside his own head as much as the pure physical exhilaration of it is what attracted him to the sport.

After the storm the night before, the lake was high and the wind monstrous. It was too strong for sailboats but the wind surfers were a crazy bunch and they were out in force. After a few hours, Logan was exhausted, hungry and full of ideas. He parked his board and sail near the grass and walked down the sand toward the gyroscope at the far end of the beach. It looked like fun.

He was halfway across the beach when he passed a young man in swim shorts going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Logan." The other said.

"Hey, Josh." Logan automatically answered. They each went another step or two before they wheeled around in surprise and stared at each other, stunned.

"What are you doing here?" they asked, simultaneously.

Up in the parking lot, JR had arrived with the Range Rover. He had just gotten out of the car and saw Logan spin around in surprise. He frowned to see Logan stiffen in shock. As the stranger on the beach spoke to him, JR saw Logan run his hand nervously through his hair. JR hustled down toward the water's edge.

"I'm here whenever I'm not working." Josh laughed. "I live right there." He nodded at the Calhoun Beach Club, an old brownstone high rise on the other side of Lake Street. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm…uh…" Logan started to laugh. "I'm hiding out. I never thought I'd run into anyone I knew here."

"Excuse me." JR inserted himself between Logan and the other young man. "Sir," he said to Logan "Your car is ready."

"No, no! Its okay, JR." Logan waved his henchman off. "He's okay. It's—"

"We're old friends." Josh put up a hand to cut Logan off, clearly not wanting his name spoken aloud.

"You can pack up my board," Logan said to JR. "It's over there."

"Very good, sir." JR nodded and threw one cold look up and down the interloper before heading across the beach for the equipment.

"Sorry about that." Logan said, running his hand through his hair again. "He's kind of a mother hen."

"Nah, it's okay. That's what's so great about this place; we're completely out of context. Nobody sees what they're not looking for."

"That's what I'm hoping." Logan admitted. "You're famous. I'm only infamous. It's worse."

"You'll get used to the fact that this isn't LA. " Josh laughed. "I, uh…I've thought about you a few times since…well…"

"Yeah. The past few years have been a lot better."

"Must have been tough. I always thought your dad was…"

Logan stiffened, instinctively. He hated it when industry people tried to him how great his dad was.

"…a fucking tool. I know there are people who gave you crap after that King interview…"

"They tried," Logan corrected him with a smirk. "I declined delivery."

"That's what I always liked about you, kid; you never took shit from anybody." Josh laughed. "Not even your old man. Sorry I didn't…"

"There's an occassion Hallmark doesn't make a card for. Yet. Fuck it. Seriously, dude; how'd you find this place? We are in the middle of nowhere."

Josh spread his arms wide, embracing the lake, the shore and the sky, saying "I grew up here! This is my home town. My whole family is here."

"Really?" Logan experienced an emotion he felt before but rarely recognized; envy. "Why'd you leave?"

"I wanted to be an actor! And it was winter." Josh grinned. "But I come back every chance I get."

"I'm never leaving."

"Dude." Josh said seriously. "It's August. Wait a few months."

"That's what I keep hearing. How bad can it get?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Up in the lot, JR finished putting away the board and sails. He stood by the car, watching Logan and Josh, suspiciously. He knew he'd seen the guy before but for the life of him couldn't remember where.

"JR." Logan said as they approached the car. "We're gonna grab some lunch. Josh will drop me off, so you can take the rover home."

"Of course." JR nodded."I'll see you at the house later, sir."

"Didn't you have some stuff to do today at noon?" Logan asked him. "Over at the sailing dock?"

"Oh. Yeah." JR grinned. "Later." He started for the Tin Fish as Logan and Josh headed for the cross walk and the sidewalk café; The View, on the first floor of the Calhoun Beach Club.

Veronica followed Marla's directions to the Longfellow Grill. On the Minneapolis side of the river, it seemed like a good halfway point from their separate offices. Veronica walked into the old style diner and saw Marla and Elliot sitting in a booth near the windows. She bypassed the hostess and wound her way past the formica tables and vinyl boothes toward them. Marla saw her coming and waved her over.

"Hey." Veronica said, sliding into the booth next to Elliot. "It's good to see you again."

"You look adorable." Elliot said. "Much too pretty for a cop and much too put together for government work. How is, uh...how's Mr. Mars?"

"Oh, he's fine." Veronica tucked her bag behind her in the booth and missed Elliot mouth the words "So Fine" to Marla or the frown Marla shot back at him. "He's completely in love with the lakes. We've been exploring the bike paths on my days off and he spends every minute he can on a sail board. Last night, we went out to Lake Minne...tatonka? for dinner."

"Minnetonka. Lots of great places out there." Elliot nodded. "Where did you eat?"

"Maynards." Veronica said. "It was gorgeous. We ate on the deck and stayed out there till the sun went down. Logan was drooling over the Cabin Cruisers."

"And I'm sure the cruisers were drooling over him." Elliot said.

"That's what I said!" Veronica nodded. "He didn't want to hear it."

"They never do."

"I love Excelsior." Marla said, declining to enter the discussion on who was drooling over what. "I have a friend who lives just off Water street. Her garage blew over in a storm a few years ago."

"How about that storm last night?" Veronica said, shaking her head. "There wasn't a cloud in the sky when we got home around 11:00, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking that my house was exploding and then this morning, I thought I'd dreamt the whole thing; blue skies from horizon to horizon!"

"Oh," Elliot said, sympathetically, "we have a word for that kind of weather phenomenon here in Minnesota; normal."

"So I should expect more of that?" Veronica laughed, picking up her menu. "What's good here?"

"Everything." Marla shrugged. "Although Elliot and I usually split a large grill salad."

"Yes," Elliot said. "We always fight over whether to get it with chicken, steak or sans meat. It depends on whether I'm having a vegetarian day."

"You have vegetarian days?" Veronica lifted an eyebrow.

"I try. But if God really hadn't wanted me to eat animals, He wouldn't have made them so delicious."

"I'll drink to that." Veronica decided on the Tennessee BBQ sandwich.

"So." Marla said, looking critically at Veronica after the waitress took their orders. "The house. How's it coming?"

"Well, I love it more every day. We've got a few pieces of furniture; enough to be able to use the place but here's the thing; I don't want to just go to some furniture store and buy rooms full of stuff. I want to take my time and only get things I really love but I have no idea where to start. We did find some gorgeous pieces at some antique stores. We bought a partner's desk for Logan to use in the library that's a work of art. I thought you might have some suggestions as to where I could look."

"Well, in additon to having some fabulous restaurants, Excelsior also has some great antique stores, if that's what you like." Elliot said. "Although, I must admit I'm surprised. I had you two pegged as contemporary, all the way."

"I don't think we're anything all the way." Veronica shrugged. "And while it would be easy to just hire someone, the very idea of allowing someone else to furnish my home just seems wrong."

"What?" Elliot gasped.

"Oh, calm down," Marla patted his arm. "She just means she wants to do it herself. It's a very personal thing."

"I don't have a problem with telling someone how many chairs I need or what colors I like but the idea of someone else filling my shelves with accessories, or choosing the art on the walls...it would be like living in a hotel and Logan already did that."

"Yes, he mentioned that." Marla said. "He lived in a hotel for how long?"

"Five years." Veronica said. "His parents...died and his house burned down when we were in high school, so-"

"Oh my God! How awful!" Elliot frowned.

"Mmmm." Veronica nodded. Awful doesn't begin to describe it. "The house he grew up in was decorated to the hilt. I don't know if a single thing in it meant anything to him at all. I want our place to be different. I want it to be...us."

"That's going to take time." Marla said. "For starters, you have to know what that even means."

"Yes." Elliot nodded sagely. "You could find out that you're all antique partner's desks and he's naugahyde recliners."

"I think it's a better bet that he's antique desks and I'm naugahyde." Veronica admitted.

"Darling, you couldn't be naugahyde if you tried." Elliot assured her. "You are hand-tanned calf skin or I'll start wearing loafers without socks."

"Clearly, you've never seen my Dad's apartment." Veronica chuckled.

"Miss Mars," Elliot said firmly "Anyone can tell that a rose growing in the middle of a weed patch is still a rose! Look at Marla, here; even sitting in this quitchy diner, she just screams 'Beauty Queen'."

"I'm not the one in this booth screaming 'queen', Elliot, so that's enough of that!" Marla said severely. She turned to Veronica "Estate sales. That's where you need to look."

"My dad bought me a ten dollar water bed at an estate sale once." Veronica cocked her head to one side. "Aren't they just glorified garage sales?"

Marla and Elliot looked at each other. "NO." they said in unison.

"A good estate sale is to a garage sale like a Broadway production is to a preschool sing along." Elliot said, seriously. "You can find absolutely anything. I've met so many-Well. Never mind."

"You really can find anything." Marla agreed. "The trick is knowing which neighborhoods are good for what. You did good coming to us, Mars. We know neighborhoods."

"I'll get us a newspaper," Elliot slid out of the booth.

"Different neighborhoods are good, depending on what you want." Marla explained. "If you want buried treasure and are willing to refinish, old blue collar neighborhoods like the Northeast side or the Nokomis areas are great. If you want ready to use, high quality furniture, Edina, Wayzata, Kenwood is where you need to go. If you want modern designer, I'd stick to Edina or Lake Minnetonka. Linden Hills, East Harriet, Uptown, all good for high quality, well taken care of, older stuff. Kitchen ware, stemware, barware; you can find that anywhere. A friend of mine just bought an entire china service for forty bucks only to look it up online and discover that she could get twenty bucks a plate for the same pattern.
You said Logan's got a partners desk? Don't you find it exciting to think of who else may have used that peice? What papers may have been written there, what law cases settled? Aren't you fascinated by the history of old things?"

"I hadn't really given it a thought until right this moment," Veronica said, bringing her fist down on the table, "But Yes! Yes, I am!"

"Let's see what we've got this week," Elliot slipped back into the booth with a local paper, which he opened to the ads. "What day is it, Thursday? Perfect."

"Are there any in Kenwood, Lowry Hill, East Isles?" Marla asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Relax," Elliot said "I know what we're looking for. Get me a pen."

Marla sat back and raised her eyebrows at Veronica as she fished a marker out of her purse and handed it over.

"No, no no...yes, yes, no..." He circled three of the ads and handed Marla the page. "There you go."

"Yes..." she nodded, looking at the addresses he'd circled. "Edina; Indian Hills, good! Mount Curve and Linden Hills. This looks like as good a place to start as anywhere." she handed the paper to Veronica. "Sales usually go from Friday to Sunday, although not always. Most run at least two days and the rule of thumb is that large items like furniture, are half off on the second day. I know you don't need to look for those kinds of bargains, but believe me; it's more fun that way."

"Oh, the rush of getting an antique needlepoint chair for forty dollars because it's the second day is better than hitting your number at roulette!" Elliot nodded.

"I'm not really looking for exctiement, I just want stuff for my house."

"Do you think Mr. Mars would be interested in going with you?" Marla asked.

"Doubt it. He thought the house was done when he hooked up his game cube."

"These look like great sales and we only have the one open house this Saturday..." Marla looked hopefully at Elliot.

"Oh fine." he rolled his eyes. "I'll do all the prep but you're doing all the clean up."

"Deal!" she turned to Veronica. "Do you want to go Estate Saling with me on Saturday?"

"That sounds like fun." Veronica nodded.

"I'll pick you up at 9:00." Marla nodded. "And even if we don't find anything you want to buy, we get to root through some pretty amazing houses."

Despite the heat, JR trotted all the way to the restaurant and scanned the gathering crowd. The wind was too high for the sailing class to take the little boats out but the instructors had taken the kids down to the 32nd street beach to let them swim while also demonstrating the proper way to right a boat that had tipped.

JR looked around, knowing that Bryn would be there to pick up her brother. Just as he was beginning to worry that she wasn't going to show up, he caught sight of her, over by the sailing shack. After a momentary pang of uncertainty, he squared his shoulders and marched over to her, thinking of Logan throwing an entire Alterna-prom only to blow it with Veronica.

"She married him." JR muttered to himself. "After everything, she married him. I just want a date." He walked up to the shack and when he was a few feet from her, called out.

"Hey! Hi." He smiled nervously. She looked at him, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Then recognition dawned and she smiled.

"Well, hello there!" she said. "Got a decent table for me today?"

"No, sorry." He looked back at the restaurant. "I actually just got here. I was wondering…um…would you like to have lunch with me?"

"You mean share a table?"

"No, I mean I'd like to buy you lunch. Just you this time, not all the kids. I mean, I'll buy them lunch but they've got to find their own table. Would...um... that be okay?"

"You don't have to buy them lunch, we're not a package deal." She said. "In fact, I think they want to keep on swimming for a while. It's really too hot to get out of the water, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Especially for a Selkie."

"Yeah!" she laughed. "Especially for them."

"Will they be okay on their own?" JR looked past her down the shore. The beach the kids were swimming at was a much prettier, shadier place than the large sunny beach off of which Logan surfed. The road on this side of the lake went up so the shore was protected from traffic by a tall, thickly wooded hill. The bike and pedestrian paths ran along the foot of the hill and a wide grassy expanse lay between the paths and the beach, which boasted its own playground. A few long stairways provided access to on street parking as there was no lot dedicated to this beach.

"They're fine. They can all swim. I'm just the driver, not the baby sitter." Bryn said. "In fact, a couple weeks ago I got so mad at Finnie I took off and he had to walk home."

"Oh. So you live nearby?"

"About two miles that way." She pointed across the lake. "He's a big boy. He can walk it. He doesn't like to walk it but he can. And now he knows that I don't bluff."

"You don't bluff." JR nodded seriously. "That's good to know."

"I'm Bryn," she said, offering her hand. "I'm sorry but I don't remember if you told me your name."

"Oh! It's Jeff." He said, briefly grasping her hand. "That's a really pretty name."

"Is it?"she teased.

"What? NO. Bryn is really pretty. The name, I mean."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I don't mean you're not pretty! I just…I don't want to freak you out by coming across way too strong, too soon, you know?"

"It's just lunch, right?" She asked as they walked toward the order window.

"Yes. I love you. Too much?"

She threw back her head and laughed but said "Yes! Way too much! You gotta save something for dinner. Do you really know what a Selkie is?"

"I didn't yesterday," he said, delighted that she'd mentioned dinner. "But I Googled it as soon as I got home. So, you're like, a mermaid, only a seal?"

"No, the black Irish are descended from fishermen who married Selkies but we, ourselves are not Selkies. I'm not crazy; I don't claim to turn into a seal in the water or at night or anything." She assured him as they took their place in line.

"Be kinda cool if you did." He cocked his head and looked at her, speculatively.

"Wouldn't it? I love that kind of folk lore. In fact, it's what I'm studying in school."

"Really. Where do you go?"

"The U. I'm getting my undergrad in folk lore and anthropology."

"Well, I'm sure that will be very useful in today's market."

"In today's market, it's at least as useful as a…" she looked him over critically. "A law degree?" she guessed.

"Nope." He shook his head. "The world hardly needs another lawyer."

"So are you still in school?"

"No, I graduated last spring. Criminology and Psychology."

"Oh, how cool! So, not a lawyer; a cop. Is that what you do?"

"Nope. I'm a professional lackey." he said, proudly.

"A what?"

"I've attached myself to a rich young man and he pays me to be at his beck and call." He explained. "It's pretty cool, actually; I never know what each day will bring. Last spring I spent three weeks as the advance man for his honeymoon; I was a few days ahead of them, hopping from Hawaii to Australia and back, making sure everything was as close to perfect as possible. That was fun! Today, he's having lunch with someone he claims is an old friend but whom I think I may have to investigate later. You'd be surprised how many people try to insinuate themselves into the lives of the super rich. One of my duties is to protect him from sycophants. It's quite demanding and requires all of my considerable resources."

"Seriously?" she asked, her dark brown eyes wide.

"No." he hung his head.

"What do you really do?"

"Oh, that is what I do. But it rarely requires all my resources, which honestly aren't even that considerable."

"You're a lackey?" she giggled.

"I actually prefer 'aide de camp'. Sounds more legit, doesn't it?"

"Much. What does an aide de camp do?"

"Mostly, I clean up after him. What are you planning to do with a degree in folk lore?"

"And anthropology. I could probably teach but the more I study, the more these ideas keep popping into my head," she said, becoming quite animated, "I'm thinking I'll try my hand at writing in the fantasy genre. I'll never make the New York Times bestseller list but at least I'll be having fun."

"That sounds great." JR nodded. "Fun is important."

"Your job seems to give you a lot of time off. Does your boss always give you a long lunch?"

"It's not that I get a lot of time off, it's just that a lot of my work seems like time off. For instance, yesterday was a working lunch. Procuring the best table in the place was my immediate assignment."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the guy I was with?"

"No. I mean, I remember you were with someone but I didn't really notice him."

"You didn't?" JR was seriously surprised.

"No. Should I? Did he have a wooden leg or something?"

"No, it's just…never mind." JR had never met a girl who didn't notice Logan. He hadn't thought that one existed. "That was my boss."

"Really? And he told you to buy off my brother's table?"

"No, that was my idea. A good aide de camp never waits to be asked. You really don't remember him at all?"

"No. I'm sure there were dozens of guys here yesterday whom I don't recall. You're the guy I talked to. You're the guy who saved me a table, so you're the guy I remember."

"He's a fuckin' genius." JR mumbled.

"What?" Bryn asked but just then, the waitress called "Order up for JR!"

"That's us!" JR waved the woman over with their food. Just as she handed them their baskets, Finbar arrived from the beach.

"Hey, it's you!" he said, seeing JR. "You want me to get you a table?"

"All the tables are full," JR pointed out. "How would you do that?"

"Don't," Bryn shook her head but JR was curious.

"Easy!" Fin grinned. He turned away and wandered over to the nearest table, at which a couple were taking their time over the dregs of their lunch. Without saying a word, Fin stood at the edge of their table and began to hunch his shoulders and puff out his cheeks. Once he'd gotten the attention of the couple, he began to groan and make wretch-like noises.

"Oh, my God, are you okay?" the girl asked.

"Jeez, kid, get outta here!" the guy said, alarmed. At that moment, Fin hunched over the table, covered his mouth with one hand, made a horrible sound and let one long strand of drool drizzle from between his fingers to the table top.

"Ew! Gross! My Gawd!" the girl screamed, leaping up.

"Ugh! Kid!" the guy jumped to his feet, grabbed the baskets holding the remains of their lunch and ran after his girl. Fin turned and gave a thumbs up to Bryn and JR with a huge grin on his face.

"I warned you." Bryn said, shaking her head but picking up the baskets and heading toward the open table.

"Impressive!" JR nodded to Finbar. "You remind me of someone I know. What's your last name?"

"Malloy." Fin said. "Why?"

"For a second there, I thought it might be 'Echolls'."

To be continued...