Chapter Three: Grazia

As Melissa Brown Littleton enthusiastically dragged him toward the woman in white, Logan felt his heart beating an erratic tattoo. He could feel a shimmer of hope somewhere in his heart, but he fought it down, or tried to. He swallowed thickly, tried to think of something else, anything else, but they were getting closer, and as the crowd thinned, he could see the curve of the neck, the profile of the face, and then Melissa was calling out over the noise.

"Will! Grazia!"

She turned then, as did the man next to her. Logan could have sworn his heart stopped. What the hell was she doing here? Their eyes met, and he couldn't look away. A small, secret smile played around the corners of her mouth. He knew that smile. He knew every smile. Max…

"Will, I would like to introduce you to our guest tonight, Logan Cale. Logan, this is William Lucas-Patterson III." The two men shook hands politely, as Logan forced himself to take his eyes off of Max. She was so beautiful, so very, very beautiful.

"And this," Melissa continued brightly, "is our second star of the night. Logan this is Miss Grazia de Mayo. Grazia, this is Logan Cale. Logan, I cannot tell you how much Grazia has done in the last three months. She's an angel."

While Logan had to completely agree, he was suddenly faced with a rather disturbing dilemma. Technically, they were being introduced. At this point, he was supposed to shake her hand. He glanced up at Max, not even hearing as Melissa continued to sing her praises. He held out his hand, trusting that Max wouldn't let him die, but unable to come up with any alternative. Max smiled, and reached out her own, and for a moment he thought… but then, "miraculously" she was overcome by a rather large sneeze.

"Oh dear," she laughed lightly, once the mandatory round of "bless you" was over. "I'm sorry. How terribly rude of me!"

"Don't mention it," Logan replied with equal lightness, though he felt an inexplicable wave of crushing disappointment. He retracted his hand, and searched for something to say. It was his job to lead the conversation, but he definitely couldn't say the things he really wanted to say. "I… well, thank you for all your hard work. I'm sure my mother would have appreciated it."

"Well," she shrugged, though it wasn't the same hard-ass shrug he'd become accustomed to, "not to oversimplify things, but I find I'm rather passionate about saving widows and orphans." There it was – that mocking little smile that made him want to touch her lips so badly. How on Earth had he survived the last six months without her?

"Will you excuse me? I'm just going to hop on over to the ladies room for a moment," Max smiled. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Logan."

"All mine," Logan insisted gallantly. Then, to Logan's great horror, William Lucas-Patterson III, pulled Max (Grazia) into him and kissed her on the cheek. A flame of jealousy ripped through Logan's chest as he watched, and it took all his presence of mind to not let his pasted smile leave his face. As she accepted the token of endearment, Max's eyes fluttered to the ground. She wouldn't look at him. She pulled away and made her exit without a single glance in his direction.

"So, you've come all the way from Seattle?" Will asked politely. Logan pulled his eyes away from Max's retreating figure, and, to his credit, didn't punch the snotty little rich kid in the mouth.

"Yeah," Logan replied.

"It's beautiful up there this time of year. I was up north just a few months ago – Canada – that's where I met Grazia."

"Oh, really?"

"Ski resort," the younger man added, and then he winked. He winked. Again, Logan didn't hit him, but he would have paid any amount to be able to.

"So… Patterson," Logan suddenly said, desperate to change the subject. "That name sounds so familiar."

"Patterson Electronics."

"Right…" and suddenly Logan remembered. This kid's father was a criminal! Eyes Only had looked into Patterson Electronics for transporting smart chips overseas to terrorist cells. Unfortunately, Logan hadn't been able to dig enough up. He tried to remember if he'd known Max at the time. What was she doing at a society ball with the son of a criminal?

As the chaos of questions swarmed in his mind, Logan forced himself to make small talk with Mr. Patterson and Mrs. Littleton, deftly steering the conversation away from any and all mentions of the beautiful, talented, and brilliant Miss de Mayo. He waited to see if she would return, but after ten minutes, Logan realized that she was avoiding him. He wouldn't have any chance of speaking to her unless she wanted to speak with him, and he was pretty sure she didn't.

"And so, I would just like to thank you all for your dedication to my mother's dream," Logan finished his speech. "This is more than she could have imagined."

Across the floor, he saw Max, in her angelic white gown, sitting with a group he recognized as the Patterson family. He watched her as he spoke, only occasionally moving his gaze to make eye contact with the others in the room. She watched back, listening with rapt attention, giving the situation an odd feeling of déjà vu, and an undercurrent of inappropriate intimacy. He watched her as he stepped down from the stage, as he found his seat. He could feel her eyes on the back of his neck as the second part of the evening commenced, and the charity auction opened. Sometime during the bidding, he felt her leave, and when the auction ended, and he finally looked behind him, his feeling was confirmed. She'd left.