A/N: Short chapter. So sue me. Speaking of which...
Disclaimer: I, Alexiasbooks, claim no legal authority or ownership over the characters or anything owned by James Cameron and Co.
Chapter Four: Not Panic
"Logan! There you are! Leaving already?" Melissa Littleton cornered him as he was about to leave.
"Yeah, it's been a long day," Logan conceded.
"Well, I'm glad I caught you, because I have wonderful news. Grazia de Mayo's having a little get-together tomorrow, just a small group of friends, you know, and she wanted me to promise to invite you. I tell you, she was quite adamant. She had to run, of course. She wasn't feeling well. Anyway, you will come, won't you?"
"Well, if she was adamant…"
"Absolutely! Oh she wouldn't leave until I'd given her my word. I'll send a car for you tomorrow at five o' clock in the evening. Dress is cocktail. Oh, everyone's simply abuzz. It's Grazia's first party. I can't wait to see her apartment."
Logan wished the talkative little woman a good evening and stepped into the waiting black Sedan. Max had made Melissa swear to invite him. She'd avoided him that evening, but now she was seeking him out? It didn't make any sense, but he didn't care. Tomorrow night, he would see Max again. That was what really mattered. Maybe he'd be able to corner her and get some answers.
Logan had spent quite a bit of time studying ceilings in his life, but he had to admit, the one he was currently staring at was one of the nicest. It had been painted to look similar to the Sistine Chapel, only without all the nudity. Melissa Brown-Littleton had certainly shelled out a good chunk of cash for his hotel room. It was exceptionally clean, the minibar was completely stocked, the ceiling had a mural complete with chubby, half-dressed, happy cherubs, the view from the balcony was breathtaking, and the bed was one of the softest Logan had ever felt. What a damn shame that he barely noticed any of it.
His mind was racing. He glanced wearily at the bedside clock, and let out an exhausted sigh. Four hours later, and his mind was still racing. He couldn't get the image of Max out of his mind. She'd been so dazzlingly beautiful, his breath still caught in his throat when he remembered the moment when she'd first turned around. What was she doing there?
From what he could learn, she called herself Grazia de Mayo, and Mr. Lucas-Patterson was completely enamored with her. There was talk of marriage. A wave of panic washed over him at the thought, but he decided, and quite firmly, that it wasn't panic at all. It was just surprise. Surprise and confusion was keeping him awake, nothing else. What was going on?
A/N: TBC (because a very nice reviewer brought it to my attention that I should probably put that at the end of my chapters; I'm still trying to get the hang of this place). I might have another chapter up tonight.