Reaching for the Moon by ThePekingNoodle

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Chapter 22: An Evening at the Ball

After all what are a few drinks among friends…

Logan had been right. It was an extremely long night. From the moment they had walked into Ratburn's palatial estate home they had been surrounded by the crème de la crème of Seattle society. It seemed that everyone wanted to meet the mysterious European heiress who had snatched up Seattle's most eligible bachelor.

Max took it in stride, sparkling and charming even the most jaded Seattle matrons. Except for Logan's Aunt Margo. Kendra had warned him that she was on the warpath. It seemed that she felt it had been most inconsiderate of Logan to keep the heiress to himself, when her own son, Bennett could certainly have used a wife, not to mention the millions that came with Max. 

Logan succeeded in keeping Max away from her for most of the evening. Unfortunately events conspired to foil his carefully crafted plans to whisk Max away whenever Margo loomed near. The two were standing alone for a brief moment and Logan reached out to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Max's non-monetary assets, the ones that were so richly highlighted by that dress (or lack thereof) had garnered more than a few looks from his hormonally challenged friends. He was exhausted from glaring at them in silent warning to keep their distance from his innocent charge. So it was no wonder that he needed champagne to keep his strength and resolve intact.

"Logan how many glasses of that have you had?" Max looked at him askance.

"Haven't been keeping track. Oh shit. Max stay here. Don't move. I'll be right back." Logan quickly ducked behind a convenient potted palm and skulked along the wall. When Max looked to see what had spooked her so attentive escort, she saw a vision in pink descending on her.

"Why, its Max, isn't it?" Ashley cooed to her in dulcet tones. "I thought Logan was just here?"

Max smiled insincerely at Ashley, "I think he suddenly felt ill."

"Ill? I've never known Logan to get sick that easily and you know we're very, very close…friends. Intimate friends in fact." The blonde cooed.

"The color pink makes him nauseous." Max smiled at Ashley and then turned and walked away leaving the blonde choking on a mouthful of her drink.

When she turned she almost ran into a middle aged woman. She seemed faintly familiar but Max was sure she had never met her. The woman looked her up and down and gave her a frigid smile. Just then Logan miraculously reappeared at Max's side.

"Aunt Margo. I've been avoi…um looking for you all night. I wanted to introduce Max to you. She's my…" He began only to be cut off midsentence.

"I know exactly who she is." Margo responded in frigid tones. "You would think that the family might have been informed of your rather sudden marriage by you rather than by the tabloids." She pointedly looked at Max's waistline as she spoke, her implication clear. "But when one marries Euro trash, I suppose there is a certain reluctance to introduce her to one's nearest and dearest."

Max smiled sweetly at the woman, even though every instinct begged her to reach out and strangle her. Logan could have almost sworn he heard her hiss, but then she replied dulcetly, "Oh but Logan's nearest and dearest knew about the planned marriage long ago. What did you say your name was again?"

Margo spluttered and turned tail. Logan stared open mouthed at Max who gave him an innocent look. "I'm sorry .I'm just so bad with names," she apologized to him.

Just then the clock struck eleven and Logan remembered the objective of the evening. Getting those files from Ratburn's computer. He had lost track of it in making sure that Max was not left to her own amongst these ravening wolves of Seattle society. He looked around and sighed in relief when he spotted Kendra. He waved frantically to her, and she made her way over to them.

"Max you look ravishing." The two girls hugged. Kendra turned and looked at Logan. "You clean up pretty well, but you really do need to shave once in a while. Whisker burn can be extremely painful." She looked pointedly from Logan to Max and he choked on his champagne, while Max appeared to be fascinated by the unique species of silk palm she was standing next to.

"I need to go um, use the facilities. Ken, can you stay with Max?" Logan ventured. When Kendra nodded he pulled her aside and whispered, "For gods sake make sure that dress stays where it should be and do not leave her alone." With that he was off leaving a stupefied Kendra staring after him.

She turned to Max and giggled, "I think he likes your dress."

* * * *

Logan had no trouble finding Ratburn's study. The computer was in the middle of the desk, exactly where one would expect a computer to be. He walked casually over to it and reached down to flip on the switch. And fumbled. Logan Cale, computer hacker extraordinaire, actually fumbled with the on switch. This couldn't be happening to him.

Five, no six, okay maybe eight, glasses of champagne were nothing to a man with his ability to handle his liquor, he assured himself.  He gathered himself together and managed to get the damn machine to turn on.  Soon it was happily humming away and his fingers managed to key in the right commands, despite the conflicting instructions from his champagne soaked brain. Next thing he knew he was looking at the file he wanted. He stared at it for a moment and then remembered, he was supposed to copy it onto a disk. The disk. Where had he put the disk? Oh right, his inside jacket pocket.

Logan managed to pull it out and insert it in the proper place. (At least something was being inserted in its proper place. That wasn't happening too much in his life these days.) Soon he had copied what he needed. At least he hoped he had. It would certainly be unfortunate if instead of Ratburn's financial records, he had managed to get his list of fantasy baseball statistics. Logan remembered seeing a file with that information in his perusal of the computer. He had looked at it out of curiosity, and he really hoped the man was better at stealing money than he was at picking ballplayers. If he wasn't, Eyes Only's dramatic take down of him would be anti-climactic.

He had dropped the disk into his pocket and turned off the computer when the door to the room began to open. Logan looked around frantically but there was nowhere to hide. Two burly men strode in followed by none other than Harrison Ratburn himself.

* * * *

Max was getting restless. Surely it couldn't be taking Logan this long. Of course, he had drunk an awful lot of champagne. Every time one of his friends had come over to meet her, Logan had grabbed a glass of champagne and drained it. And he had a lot of friends or so it seemed.

"Kendra, I need to powder my nose." Kendra was happily ogling a fine specimen of a cocktail waiter and paid her little heed. "You don't need to come. I'll be right back."

Kendra nodded absently as she smiled up at the waiter and asked his advice on just which canapé he recommended.

Max quickly slipped into the hallway and looked around. Her keen ears heard muffled voices a little way down the hallway. She silently glided along the wall until she came to a closed door. It was dark in this part of the house and there was no one to see her, so she stood there quietly and focused in her hearing.

"What do we do with him, boss?"

"It seems our friend is a bit nosy. I doubt he's done anything but I don't believe in taking chances. Mr. Cale is about to suffer an unfortunate accident. Seems he drank a bit too much tonight and…oh well. It must run in the family."

"You won't get away with this, Ratburn." Logan's voice answered.

"Oh, but I will. And it has the added bonus of leaving your oh so lovely and so rich little wife a grieving widow. I'm sure she'll be grateful for the advice and assistance of a man of the world to assist her in her grief."

Max didn't wait to hear anymore. She reached down and turned the handle of the door. It didn't turn. It was locked. She looked down at her dress and swore to herself. An evening gown wasn't exactly the place to carry some of her more useful tools. Sighing she reached for the handle once more and after a quick glance around she gave it a hard twist. The lock popped open with a snap and Max flung open the door and stepped into an empty room.

End of Chapter Twenty-Two…TBC…