Chapter 8
I pulled up to the restaurant, and it was nothing like my daydream. In fact, it was quite different. There was no valet and didn't look like a typical Logan restaurant. Maybe he's trying to keep a lower profile, I thought. I went inside and it was virtually dead, aside from a handful of patrons and wait staff. I spotted Logan in the far corner of the dimly lit establishment.
He flashed a quick, soft smile. I returned his smile and walked in his direction. I felt myself getting more nervous with each step. I couldn't stop my racing pulse, and my hands were sweating so bad I thought there was a faucet in my palms. I tried taking a few deep, calming breaths before I got to the table. Get it together, Rory! It's just Logan and this is to help Richard, I reminded myself.
He stood up to greet me when I got to the table. He gave me a cheek-to-cheek kiss on either side. There was nothing warm about it, nor was it cold. It was simply a standard greeting. At this rate, I'd be obsessing over every single detail of the night.
"Ace," he said with a soft, genuine smile.
"Logan," I replied trying to cover my shaking voice.
I took a seat across from him. He pushed a menu towards me. I accepted it and quickly opened to scan my options. I hadn't even considered what I'd eat tonight, but I had no desire to eat. My nerves tied my stomach into a knot.
"I've heard the spaghetti and meatballs is the best dish on the menu," he offered.
Deja vu! I thought. "You know I'm a sucker for some Italian food."
"Care for some wine? I ordered a bottle when I got here," he said.
"Sure," I replied and he poured me a glass.
He slid the glass over to me gently. We sat in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like an eternity until the waiter finally came over. I didn't realize I had already drunk half a glass of wine, which was unlike me. I could make a glass of red last an entire meal, but I was drinking nervously. I recalled many dates with Logan, and there was rarely silence. Maybe too much time had passed, or maybe he was still angry with me for keeping Richard from him. I can't fault him for that, I wondered.
"And what can I get for you, ma'am?" our waiter asked, interrupting my train of thought.
Crap! I'd zoned out again, I thought. I felt the warmth creeping through my cheeks turning them flush with color.
"Spaghetti and meatballs, please," I replied quickly and took another drink. I could feel the buzz from the alcohol. I moved the water glass closer to me. The waiter took my menu and left us alone again.
"Slow down, Ace," he said laughing at me.
I blushed some more and noticed he was pouring himself a second glass. Although slightly embarrassed, it helped break the awkward silent pattern we'd fallen into.
"Just trying to keep up with you," I joked in return.
He blushed a little, but he's always been able to cover it better than me, and that he did with another drink followed by a flirtatious wink. Maybe he's not mad at me, or maybe the wine was affecting him the same way it was affecting me, I thought.
"Ah, but I have a driver," he retorted with a Logan smile that made his eyes crinkle.
"Well played, Huntzberger," I replied.
Silence was upon us once more. Logan looked like he wanted to say something. I didn't know what to say. He was the one who wanted to go to dinner, and now it's uncomfortable, which was new territory for us. We'd always fallen into our old routine, but now there was this ocean between us. A dark chasm spreading so far you couldn't see the other side.
"I'm not going to beat around the bush. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked directly. He didn't sound angry, but definitely firm.
Wow! That was way more blunt than I thought he'd be. I guess I was hoping for some small talk to ease into it, like in my daydream, I thought. Life isn't a daydream, Rory!
"I thought I made it clear that I didn't tell you because I didn't want to ruin the dynastic plan," I replied calmly.
"You know I wanted nothing to do with my father's plan," he said.
"I never heard you say anything of the sort."
"I didn't think it was something I had to say. It was inherent from the beginning of our relationship. Time doesn't change that," he explained.
"Why didn't you just say something?"
"Because of your stupid Vegas agreement," he said frankly.
"Now it's my stupid Vegas agreement?" I asked defensively.
"It was your suggestion. I don't know why I agreed to it in the first place."
"I certainly didn't force you!" I felt the anger starting to build. I couldn't believe he was blaming me for our Vegas arrangement.
"I felt like I had no choice!"
"Are you freaking kidding me?" I replied angrily in disbelief.
"No, I'm not," he answered. "It was the only way to have you in my life!"
"I never heard you suggest anything otherwise. You never said a damn thing to the contrary in the two years we were together," I said definitively.
"You're right, but I desperately wanted you in my life. This was the option you gave me."
"Is this why you started seeing Odette and proposed to her?" I asked candidly.
"Rory, you never gave me the option to be with you like that. It was Vegas or nothing. It was just like when we first started dating and you wanted to do the no strings attached thing. I chose Vegas because I had hoped you'd want the same with me as I wanted with you! I thought you'd come to the same realization you did before. So, I bided my time and waited," he confessed. "In the meantime, I had to play nice with my dad. I dated a few women before he found Odette for the family merger."
"And now you're telling me all of this? Why? Why didn't you say something before?" I said as my anger began to build once more.
"I thought it was obvious!"
"I thought Vegas was the only way to have you in my life. Then, I was blindsided by your engagement. Would you have kept the agreement after you got married?"
"I never really thought about that. I never imagined myself married. At least, not to someone other than you," he paused. "But, it's not like you weren't seeing other people."
He'd turned the tables on me. I was caught up in my own victimization that I had completely forgotten about Paul, which wasn't out of the ordinary. I'm just as guilty as Logan, I realized.
"No, but I was never engaged," I replied. "None of them ever really mattered."
"Then why bother in the first place?"
"I'm not sure. I think I hoped it would make you jealous and want to call off the whole Vegas thing."
The waiter came just in time with our dinner. I had already finished my second glass of wine. Now, I was drinking out of frustration and anger rather than the nerves that caused the first glass to disappear. Hopefully, the ingestion of carbs would help negate the effects.
"Can we get another bottle?" Logan asked the waiter before he left.
"Are you trying to get me drunk? As it is, I'll have to swallow my pride and call Richard for a ride home," I said with a chuckle.
He laughed and said, "I'll just make sure you get home, ok?"
"You don't have to save me, Logan," I replied in a serious tone.
"Ace..." he said in a low voice. He sounded a little disappointed.
"We'll see after dinner," I suggested with a soft smile.
We dug into our food and returned to a slightly tense silence. I knew there would be more rounds, but I hoped it would help us move beyond all of this. Out of nowhere, Logan broke the silence.
"You know I would have been there for you."
"How? You were an ocean away with a short amount of time until your nuptials with Odette. Were you going to leave her if you found out about the baby?"
"You know I would have," he confirmed my long-held theory.
"So, me alone wasn't enough for you?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all!" he replied going back on the defensive.
"I didn't want you to choose me because of the baby. I wanted you to choose me...for me," I clarified.
"I didn't think you wanted an 'us'," he said.
"You mean doing a book with Naomi Shropshire wasn't overt enough for you? My dream job was not co-writing a book with an insane, drunk woman, but getting to spend more time in London was enough motivation to take on that ill-fated project."
"I did always wonder about that. I never saw it like that, but it's blatantly obvious now," he replied.
We both paused. I could see the wheels turning in his head. There were a lot of signs both of us failed to recognize, and only now, when looking back, can we see them clearly. The reality was painfully apparent, and the missed opportunity was regrettable.
"Ok. No more about this. We are both to blame for failing to communicate," I said and took a deep breath. "Can we put this behind us and focus on what's before us now?"
"I'd like to try," he agreed quietly.
"Good, because this is something that's really important to Richard."
"Then it's imperative that I get this right," he replied with a slight smile.
"Don't put too much pressure on yourself. I'm sure you two will get along just fine. I see a lot of you in him."
"Is that a good thing?" he asked with a raised brow.
"Yes, it's a good thing. Look at his athletic ability - that certainly didn't come from me," I replied smiling.
He laughed. "Is that all?"
"No, he's got the drive and passion I saw in you from the beginning," I said. Was I flirting? Dammit, Rory! I chastised silently.
I had forgotten he'd ordered a second bottle of wine until the waiter interrupted what I thought was a moment. Logan poured us each another glass. As my inhibitions took a sabbatical, I felt the flame growing inside of me. What if this is my last shot at true happiness? I wondered.
"So, I heard he's going to Yale in the fall," he said bringing me back to reality. It still didn't shake my notion. Does he still feel the same after all these years? I asked myself. Best not to act now though.
"Yes, he's following in our footsteps and becoming an Eli."
"Richard and Emily would have been proud," he stated.
"Grandma was touched that I named him after Grandpa. They were very close, too."
"Richard is a good, strong name," he replied with a smile. "It sounds like it suits him just as it did your grandfather."
"It is, and it does," I replied with a warm smile. He knew how to dive right back into my heart. I didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, or if I was reading too much into things.
"Is he going to play tennis there?"
"He made up his mind about not going pro last summer when the opportunity was presented. He wanted to focus on school but was still considering playing at Yale. He didn't want to be committed to having to play and wants to try for a year to make sure he can handle the academic and athletic load. The coach was recruiting him heavily, but he just made up his mind this spring."
"He sounds like an amazing kid, Ace," he said.
"He certainly is, Logan, but don't think I did this alone. How my mom did it alone at sixteen, I'll never know! It made me realize what an amazing woman she is."
Logan was about to say something but took another drink instead.
"I was thinking," he blurted out as if he'd just swallowed some magic courage potion. "Maybe I could have him over for dinner this weekend."
"I think that's a great idea. I have a feeling he'd really like that, but you'll have to talk to him about it. Remind me to give you his phone number," I replied, relieved that he was interested in getting to know our son.
"Thanks," he said taking another drink and letting out an audible sigh of relief.
"Does your daughter know?" I asked curiously. I had no idea if Richard was planning on telling her.
"No, and I have no idea how to tell her. She's going to my sister's this weekend for some pampering and shopping," he answered.
"Sounds like Honor," I replied. "How is she doing?"
"Good. She lives in West Hartford. She and Josh had two boys who will be seniors at Columbia in the fall."
"Twins?" I replied a bit surprised.
"Yes, and despite the fact she desperately wanted a girl, she decided twins were enough. Now, she spoils Viv as if she were her own."
"I bet the boys drove her mad," I said with a chuckle.
"They did, but she survived," he replied with a smile. He tilted the wine bottle toward me. "One more glass?"
"I probably shouldn't. I've already had too much!"
"C'mon, Ace! Where's your sense of adventure?" he prodded.
"You can pour it, but I probably won't drink it," I said laughing. I knew he'd pour it, and I'd likely drink it, but I had to make a verbal protest. I was comfortably buzzed, and things weren't awkward.
We continued chatting through dessert. It was two old friends catching up. Despite the rocky start to our evening, things were civil and friendly. I'm sure the wine had nothing to do with our more relaxed attitudes. Logan insisted on paying the check, and it wasn't a battle I felt like fighting at this point in the night. By the time we were ready to leave, I could feel that the wine was mostly in control of me.
On the way out, I steadied myself on Logan. Even with flats, I was a bit off balance. He tried to hold back his laughter, and I saw him fighting the urge. He slid my arm through his, which helped significantly. Jolts of electricity shot through my body where we touched. He's not shying away from contact with me, I thought.
Thankfully, the car wasn't far, and Logan had made arrangements with the restaurant to leave my car overnight. I'm sure the large tip helped persuade them. He gently guided me into the car and slid next to me. He did keep a safe distance between us, so maybe I was reading too much into things and getting ahead of myself. Or, maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, I contemplated. It was probably a good idea for both of us because I know I wouldn't have said no to him tonight.
When we pulled up into my driveway, Logan started looking confused.
"Why is my Porsche in your driveway?" he wondered aloud.
"I'm not sure, but I'd wager a guess your daughter is hanging out with Richard," I replied.
The outside light turned on and there seemed to be movement by the door. I really didn't want to meet his daughter, for the first time, half-drunk. I also didn't want to have to try to think of a story to cover why we were together. My mind wasn't sober enough to think that fast!
"Thanks for the ride home. I'm really glad you want to get to know Richard. I know it means a lot," I said as I gave his hand a squeeze and slipped out of the car. I snuck around the side of the house and heard the car take off quickly. I guessed he didn't want his daughter to see him.
I slipped in through the garage door and into the kitchen. I thought I was being quiet, but Richard called out to me. "Mom, is that you?"
Seeing me answered his question before I could say anything. "I didn't know you were home. I didn't hear the garage door."
"Logan gave me a ride home because I had two glasses of wine. I didn't feel comfortable driving," I lied to him. It felt wrong not telling him the truth, but he got part of it. He didn't need to know just how drunk his mom got at dinner with his father.
"Really, Mom? Only two glasses?" he asked trying to call me out.
"Fine, it was three," I confessed half-heartedly. "I'm going to grab a shower and go to bed. I'll tell you about dinner tomorrow."
"Ok," he said sounding like he still didn't believe me. "Goodnight, Mom!"
"Goodnight, Richard," I replied and carefully made my way upstairs.
I didn't care if he believed me or not. I don't know why I said I was going to take a shower because there's no way I wouldn't drown at this point. I closed my door, took off my sweater and passed out on top of my bed.
