It's been a little while, so 'Previously in Going Left':
Logan, Philippa and Lilly's attempts to thwart the wedding have just pushed Veronica closer to Duncan, much to their dismay. Veronica and Duncan had a talk, and he was surprised that she hadn't quit her job yet. Logan and Duncan had a talk, and it didn't end well. Logan sought out Keith to get his thoughts on the matter and was surprised to learn that Keith is on Team Logan. He resumed his snooping with the help of Philippa and Lilly. Discouraged that he's missed his window with Veronica, Logan encouraged Philippa to seize the moment and pursue her growing attraction to Casey. He then found some interesting emails on Duncan's computer and printed them out, but has kept the information he discovered to himself. During a bachelorette spa day, the girls bond over cucumber water and massages. Veronica says she's going spend the evening before her rehearsal dinner on a working dinner.
Chapter 9
February 13th
"You've gone and switched up the gladrags, I see. I thought you were going with the white Tom Ford."
Philippa's voice surprised Logan. He'd heard the sound of her stilettos tap, tap, tapping across the suite's marble floors, but he'd been too distracted to register how close she'd been until now. He pulled his gaze from his own bowtie—which he'd mangled—to the mirror in front of him and saw a reflection of her standing in the doorway behind him.
"I went with the Kiton. It's February," he argued, frustratedly dropping the ends of the bow tie.
"I thought we'd agreed that it was winter white and you were trendsetting," she teased, her smirk growing. "We were going to stand out," she reminded him.
"I decided dark was better since I'm going to my own funeral," he spoke absently, taking her in.
Philippa stood out wherever she went, but she didn't need flashy clothes to do so. The simple teal dress she wore was form-fitting and hugged her curves perfectly. It was designer and therefore expensive, but it was understated. Her hair curled slightly, landing in waves just below her shoulders.
"What are you thinking?" she asked carefully, searching his face.
"I was thinking that you look amazing," he said, turning around to face her. Logan took a step forward and caught the nape of her neck, pulling her face to his until their foreheads touched. He leaned into the contact for a second and let out a long breath before continuing. "And about how much easier my life would be if I was madly in love with you."
He felt her melt into him a little bit for a moment. "If only life was a fairytale," she told him dreamily. A moment later she shook her head and pushed them back into reality. With a chuckle, she pulled back and teased him.
"Logan Echolls, what have you done to your tie?" she admonished, giving him a wry grin. She reached up and began tugging at the cloth around his neck. The force of the motion caused him to rock forward and back a little on his unsteady feet.
"My hands were shaking too much to tie the damn thing." As Logan spoke, he realized that his voice was shaky also.
Philippa finished the knot and rocked back onto her heels to appraise her handiwork. "Lovely. You look like a proper gentleman now." With a wink, she added, "I won't tell anyone the truth."
That made Logan laugh out loud. "I'm afraid that ship has sailed," he whispered. "Everyone in attendance is well aware of my true nature." He playfully reached out a shaking hand and tapped her nose with one finger.
"Pull yourself together, man," she warned after a breath. Logan didn't know if he could listen to her get emotional without losing it himself.
"I'm trying. I can't tell you how much I want a drink," he mumbled.
"After we get through this evening, we can both have one," she promised, reaching out to brush invisible dust from his shoulder. "We'll do it together."
"If I survive," he chirped with that impish smile he pulled whenever he needed to get out of something.
"Oh, I have a feeling you'll survive. We've both lived through worse than this," she reminded him. Then, without warning, Philippa caught his chin with her fingers and forced his gaze up to hers. "And no matter what happens, you know I'll be here for you, right? You won't be alone."
He almost broke again under her intense gaze, but with a swallow, he pushed past the lump in his throat and rallied in the nick of time. "Phil, I don't know if I can go through with this. If things don't…" Logan brought his hand to his temple and began massaging in circular motions. "I don't know if I can stand there and watch her marry him."
"It won't come to that," Philippa whisked his hands out of the way and massaged his whole scalp for him. He groaned as her fingers worked through knots he hadn't known were there. Her voice sounded far away when she spoke again. "You have your super secret weapon, right?" she asked. "I still feel like there's something you're not telling me."
"I told you most of it." Logan nodded against her hands. "I don't want to use it. I don't want to hurt her or her to come to me because…" He cleared his throat again.
"What does it matter as long as she's not with him?" Philippa asked.
"I want her to want me. To want to be with me." Frustrated again, he removed Philippa's hands from his head and took a step back to lean against the dresser.
"Yes, but even if she doesn't marry you, she can't marry Duncan. He hasn't been honest with her. At the very least, she deserves to know the truth, Logan." Philippa took a step toward him but must have known he wanted some space because she stopped herself. "I wish this was all happening weeks ago, but the timeline was tight from the start."
"And I wasted time on games. It was stupid. And Veronica isn't one to take someone's word. She's stubborn; she almost sabotages herself in an effort to learn lessons for herself. I don't think destroying her happiness is the answer."
"Tell her and let her decide," Philippa insisted. "Would you want me to tell you if the situation was reversed?"
"Hell, yes!" Logan groaned. At Philippa's long gaze, he relented.
"If you'd have let me tell her Saturday when I saw her," Philippa chastised. "Or Lilly—"
"I'll tell her." Logan's reply was clipped. "She didn't want to talk about me at all, remember?" He didn't want to think about how badly they'd handled everything these past few months, well before the engagement bomb had dropped even.
"Even if you have to drag her out of her own rehearsal dinner," Philippa pressed.
"Well, she wouldn't return my calls, so I don't have much of a choice," he confirmed, "now do I?"
"No choice," she echoed.
Veronica growled as she hunted for her lip gloss. She'd turned the contents of her makeup bag into the sink and it was nowhere to be found. She needed it. This white dress would wash her out without a pop of color. And that gloss was the best. It was the perfect blend of sexy but still professional. It made her feel confident but still youthful. And she was determined to wear it tonight because the makeup consultant Celeste had hired for the wedding day had hated it. But tonight, she'd insisted on doing her own hair and makeup, and she was determined to find the damned thing. Tonight was important.
Tonight she would be seeing Logan for the first time since that day on the yacht. By the grace of God, she had avoided him thus far in the hotel. She knew he was staying with Philippa in a suite that had to be close by.
Logan. As per usual, she wished she'd picked up the phone when he'd called her ad nauseam over the past week. She'd just wanted to forget about it all, but her problems hadn't disappeared. Now she was forced to face him in public. A more private forum would have been better. But now that was too late. Now she didn't want to run into him until they were at the church. He'd never approach her with some scheme there.
"Where is the damn lip gloss?" she spoke aloud to no one. Thus far this evening she'd managed to stay alone. Duncan was off discussing something-or-other with his publicist. Lilly was with Celeste getting their makeup done, and her suitemate father was out with her soon-to-be father-in-law. Veronica reveled in the quiet before the inevitable storm.
She really couldn't believe it was the eve of her wedding to Duncan Kane. Duncan. Married to Duncan Kane.
Where the fuck was that lip gloss?
She paused to think of where she could have left it, and the vision of a purse came to her mind. Yes! It was a purse she hadn't used in a while, but she was sure she'd packed it.
Veronica rifled through one of her large suitcases for the purse before moving to the next. She finally found it at the bottom of the last one she checked.
"Figures," she murmured as she pulled it out and shook its contents onto the bed. "Yay," she cheered triumphantly when a tube of her favorite gloss fell onto the bed along with several hair ties, a pack of gum, and a folded up piece of paper.
Curious, Veronica picked up the paper looked at it more closely and then gasped. Of course, she would find her list of reasons to marry Duncan after the confrontation with Logan was passed. Where had the damn list been when he'd accosted her on the yacht?
The words made her smile. So maybe Duncan and she had different ideas about her working, and maybe he wasn't passionate or a good dancer, but those things were fleeting. She had seen her parents' marriage crumble, and she wasn't willing to let that happen to her. Duncan was important where it mattered. He was dependable and hardworking. He was handsome and stable. He drank in moderation and listened to her. She thought of how he'd stood up for her with Madison and smiled again. She knew they'd had trouble lately, but Duncan had always been such an attentive listener and he was entering politics as one of the good guys. She was determined that a life with him would be long-lasting. And their friends would muddle through somehow. Or not. That would be their choice. And, on the off chance that Logan Echolls dared to contest her decision one more time, she'd be ready with more than just a sputtering description that sounded like...what had he said again? Ah yes, a poodle. Damn Logan and his eyes that knew all and made her flustered.
"Take that, Logan Echolls," she told her reflection as she applied the gloss and rubbed her lips together to spread it evenly. "We Marses can hold our own."
She heard the click of the door to the suite unlocking and then heard her father's voice call from the door. "You ready to go, honey?"
Veronica stepped back to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Not too shabby. Her bun was messy enough to be cute, but not so messy as to look sloppy. She took in another deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ready," she called out to him as she stepped into the main room.
The ride to the church was silent. Philippa had silently taken his hand when they'd pulled away from the valet kiosk at the hotel and hadn't let go the whole drive. He'd wended his way to the church slowly through the crowded Neptune streets. He'd stopped bugging Veronica about talking to him after he'd realized that she'd clearly fled the state just to avoid him. Now it was he who was avoiding her. Avoiding this confrontation. But tonight their meeting was inevitable—it was the big rehearsal dinner. If no one was going to kick him out of the wedding, he had to be there.
All this drama and commotion felt fitting for Neptune somehow. This is how he remembered life here. Now he just had to somehow come clean. He'd do what he should have done from the get-go and lay everything on the table. It was too late—much too late—but if he didn't speak to her, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.
"She deserves to know," Philippa said from the passenger seat, reading his mind as she usually did.
"Yup," he said, popping the 'P', uninterested in discussing it further.
"You're doing the right thing," she assured him for the thousandth time and squeezed his hand.
"So you keep saying," he grumbled. "Doesn't make it any easier."
He should have let Lilly and Philippa tell her days ago. It had just felt wrong—farming ruining someone's life out. But now, at the eleventh hour, he was regretting not passing the buck. He should have followed her to Seattle.
He should have done a lot of things. But hindsight was twenty-twenty.
They pulled up to the large church and Logan took a deep breath. The rehearsal was small—just the wedding party and immediate family. A few out-of-town guests would be joining them later for dinner. From the looks of the parking lot, everyone was already inside. Logan saw Duncan's Tesla parked between Lilly's Audi and Jake and Celeste's Escalade. Cars that he assumed belonged to Casey and Sheriff Mars were on the other side of the lot, near the front entrance of the church. Logan pulled his Beemer into a spot at the far end of the church's parking lot, reveling in these last few moments of peace before his world fell apart. He took his time as he went around to open the door for Philippa. He seized her hand to help her from the car and then didn't let go. He latched himself to her for comfort, for support. She was his anchor, his lifeline.
Logan noticed Veronica right away when he entered the church. She was standing in the narthex greeting Casey, Duncan by her side. She looked sweet in a white strappy dress. Her hair was up in a knot high on her head. He almost forgot she wouldn't be happy to see him. Almost.
Veronica took one look at them and her gaze slid down to his and Philippa's joined hands. Her smile faltered, but she recovered well.
"I can't do it," he whispered to Philippa.
She squeezed his hand affectionately. "You can and you will," she pressed gently. As if to prove her point, Philippa dropped his hand and proceeded over to the small group assembled. "Duncan, Casey, this church is beautiful. Show me…" The deafening thumping of Logan's heart beating in digital surround sound drowned out the rest of what Philippa said.
Logan couldn't hold back anymore. He'd done everything wrong. His next move had the potential to just make things worse, but it had to be done.
He took a quick two steps forward, catching Veronica's elbow as she turned to follow her friends and fiancé.
"Veronica," he breathed. "Please, can we talk?"
Veronica turned to face him, her smile replaced by a weary sigh. He regretted everything. And yet, he persisted.
"Please," he begged just above a whisper. "Five minutes."
Veronica rolled her eyes. "Let me guess—"
"No!" Logan interrupted. "No more snark. No passive aggression. Just you, me, and five minutes.
Her jaw jutted out a little in frustration. "I'll give you five seconds," she relented.
"That's not enough, but it's a start. I'm sorry for everything that's happened. Everything got so tangled up. Instead of talking to you, I played games. Stupid games. It made things worse." Logan wasn't sure he was making any sense. He willed his hands not to flail about too much in his nervous state, so he clenched them into fists and took a breath. "But aside from all the underhanded bullshit I've done these past few weeks, I found something serious that I feel you should know. I was snooping around, and—"
"If this is about Duncan, I don't want to hear it," she interrupted.
Logan reached out and took both of her hands in his. "I know you don't. And I know this is the worst possible timing. But it's serious. It's something you need to know about the man you're going to marry."
Veronica slid her hand from his grasp and held it up like a crossing guard. "No, Logan. Just no."
He opened his mouth to speak, but she kept going.
"There is nothing you have to say about Duncan that will change anything. And," Veronica threw a look over her shoulder. Logan followed her gaze. The minister had arrived and was standing with the Kanes. Logan watched as Celeste gave a tight smile and tilted her head toward the officiant in a clear signal for Veronica to join them. "Logan, you have to let this go. Now. If you don't, I honestly don't think our friendship can withstand it."
Logan felt as though she'd punched him in the gut. He had no breath. No air. Physical pain rushed through him from head to toe in lightning bolts of fire. But he deserved it. He deserved whatever he got.
"Veronica, don't say that. I wouldn't do this unless—"
"You know what? I think you're spending too much time going after my fiancé when maybe you should be keeping better track of your own." With that, she spun on her heel and proceeded quickly to the front of the church.
He followed behind her slowly, turning to shake his head at Philippa and Lilly who were standing near Casey to the side.
Veronica strode to the front of the church, determined not to let Logan Echolls ruin yet another aspect of this wedding. She should have kicked him out of the wedding. She hadn't wanted to. She'd thought that he'd come around. In the end, Logan always came through for her. But she meant what she'd said. Her and Logan's friendship, as far as she was concerned, was over. Maybe later—much later—they'd find a way to coexist. But not now.
She plastered a smile on her face. "Reverend Allen," she cooed, "how lovely to see you."
The rest of the rehearsal went off without a hitch. Logan had gone through the motions during the run through of the ceremony. He'd stared at her as her father had walked her down the aisle. He'd glared at Duncan and his parents. It all seemed par for the course.
Her gaze moved to Duncan. He seemed to move through the rehearsal without noticing much of anything. Not her frustration nor Logan's piercing gaze that would have filleted Duncan a thousand times over if looks could kill.
The only time Logan spoke at all was to offer to take their rings back to his hotel with him. Neither Philippa nor Lilly had had a pocket or purse large enough to hold the ring boxes, so Duncan had given them both to Logan. A fleeting thought had passed through her head that Logan would purposefully lose them before the ceremony tomorrow, but she'd let Duncan take the lead. As much as it killed her to admit it, she was done dealing with Logan Echolls.
Veronica was careful to avoid Logan after the mock ceremony. She quickly sidled up between Jake and Celeste, a place Logan was sure not to follow. She barely listened to their idle chatter with the pastor. It gave her a moment to breathe and observe. Observe Lilly teasing Duncan. Logan sulking on a pew in the corner by himself. Philippa talking to Casey Gant—standing a little too close, Veronica noticed. Philippa reached out to put her hand on Casey's chest but apparently thought the better of it and pulled back. Interesting. Not that she cared, but interesting. Thoughts of the previous night floated into her mind.
She'd seen Philippa out at dinner. Or some who looked like Philippa. She hadn't thought much of it at the time. Philippa didn't know many people in California, but her father did. She'd assumed that if it had been Philippa, she'd just had a meeting. Veronica had been busy herself with a client. But now...she supposed the man at the restaurant could have been Casey. In fact, he probably was. What was going on? Philippa wouldn't cheat on Logan, would she? A palpable protective streak struck through her like lightning. All anger toward Logan momentarily skirted away. Maybe Philippa had charmed her like she'd charmed Logan. Maybe she, Veronica, had been too quick to take Philippa into the fold. After all her talk of keeping Philippa close to watch her, Veronica had let her guard down. What an idiot she'd been.
Veronica clenched her teeth until her jaw ached. She needed to talk to Logan. Which would be hard to do when she wasn't really speaking to him. But she couldn't let it go. There wouldn't be time tomorrow, and after the wedding, things would just snowball until she and Duncan took off for the night near Santa Barbara.
Philippa glanced in her direction and paled a bit before crossing over to where Logan sat. Veronica, set jaw and all, made a move in that direction only to be swept up by Celeste.
"I've just received word that the out-of-town guests arrived at the rehearsal dinner. We'll drive you over, Veronica."
Veronica gave a distant nod, her eyes still trained on Logan and Philippa. And Casey watching them.
Interesting, indeed.
The rehearsal dinner was lovely, despite the circumstances, Philippa observed. The string quartet played Shubert quietly off on one side of the room. There were flowers absolutely everywhere. But that almost made everything worse. The ride to the restaurant with Logan had been utterly painful, but she had forced him to come. And now that she was here, everything looked in such perfect order that it was just wrong. All the beauty was on the surface, Philippa realized. That was the problem.
Philippa decided she was tired of the charade. Veronica had shot Logan down earlier, and Philippa was determined to insert herself and finish the job for him. Veronica had a right to know what the Kanes thought about her.
She saw Casey enter the private room of the restaurant and immediately felt her cheeks pinken. She fancied him, there was no denying it. She fancied Casey Gant and now she was about to break up a wedding. She wasn't one to be meek, and it was time to show it. It was best to warn Casey in advance, she decided. Philippa crossed the room toward him, but about halfway to his side, she felt a sharp tug on her arm.
"I need to talk to you," Veronica hissed in Philippa's ear, pulling her off course.
Philippa panicked for a moment. She eagerly searched the room for Logan as Veronica pulled her out the door toward the loo, but she didn't see him anywhere.
Veronica opened the door to the toilets, but there was a crowd in there. With a groan of frustration, it seemed as though Veronica gave up on privacy and led her back to a corner of the private dining room filled with her family and friends. Philippa had a sinking feeling that their private moment was about to become public; shit was about to go down.
"I can't stand there and watch you for one more minute. How could you do it?" Veronica hissed.
Philippa had readied herself to come clean about everything, Logan be damned, but now that the moment was upon her, she needed a second to regroup. She'd wanted to get Veronica alone. And now Veronica had the upper hand. Philippa wasn't even sure to what exactly Veronica was referring to at the moment. She blinked twice, desperately searching her mind for how to begin.
"Veronica, I—"
"I befriended you. I trusted you! I made you my bridesmaid," Veronica whisper-hissed loudly enough to be heard over the music and party-goers.
Well, this was going downhill quickly. Veronica's comment made Philippa huff. She wasn't stupid, after all. Public row it would be, then. "And how is that my fault? You'd known me all of maybe two minutes."
"Logan trusted you, so I trusted you."
Philippa smirked, two could play this game. "Let's cut the crap. You didn't trust me for a single second. You made me a bridesmaid to keep an eye on me."
Veronica's reply was immediate and defensive. "Of course I did, and I had good reason to. Turns out I was right."
There was a pregnant pause. Philippa searched Veronica's eyes. What did all this have to do with anything?
Philippa's voice softened. "You weren't right." She groaned in frustration and looked over her shoulder. "This all started out pretty innocently. If you'll let me just get Logan, he'll explain everything."
"You know what?" Veronica jeered, following Philippa's gaze. "I think that's an excellent idea. Go get Logan. Because you're telling him, not me."
Veronica had shouted the last part, and her tone had attracted some attention. Several Kane family members were looking their way. Philippa looked for Logan in the crowd. And Lilly. Where the hell were they?
"Let me just find Logan," she pleaded. "I don't think we're talking about the same thing."
At that moment, Philippa heard the clinking of silverware on crystal. Someone was making an announcement.
"I'm talking about you cheating on Logan with Casey. I saw you two last night!" Veronica's shout happened to be perfectly timed with the room falling silent. Her eyes went wide with embarrassment when the whole room turned toward them.
Philippa, despite herself, the situation, and the public spectacle began to chuckle.
"Cheating on me, eh?" came a response from off to her left. Out of the shadows walked Logan, a gleam in his eye that she hadn't seen in weeks. He looked chuffed and relieved. He wore a sly grin, the kind that let her know how he'd always gotten away with everything. When he reached her, he put his arm around her. "Last night?"
Honestly, the whole situation was so absurd that Philippa had to fight to not roll her eyes. "Well, I was under the mistaken impression that no one from Neptune would step foot in Riverside, so…" she let the sentence trail, unsure how to proceed.
Lilly approached their small group then. "She's right," Lilly interjected. "We did give her that impression."
Philippa turned her eyes to Veronica who looked equal parts humiliated, gutted and vexed. Philippa realized instantly that Veronica thought they were mocking her and sobered. "It's not you, Veronica. It's just the mess we've made. If you'll just let me explain—"
"Us explain," Logan interjected.
"—most of this can all be cleared up quickly and easily," Philippa continued.
"They're not engaged," Lilly supplied.
Veronica gasped. "Since when?"
"Well, I would have broken that a little more delicately, but since ever," Philippa shrugged. "It was all—"
"A trick? A joke?" Veronica huffed and crossed her arms, "On me, apparently."
"Not a joke, Veronica. More of a…" Logan trailed off, rubbing his eyes.
"A ruse," Philippa finished for him.
"A lie," Veronica growled.
"It wasn't a lie. Not really," Lilly tried to explain.
"You told me—" Veronica seethed.
"You assumed," Lily interrupted. "But we did lead you to that assumption, on purpose, and then we didn't dissuade you when you got there."
Veronica's face fell. Philippa wanted to rescue her. Once again, everything had gone to shit. "We're not explaining things properly." She reached out to take Veronica's hand in hers, but Veronica pulled away. Philippa threw a desperate look at her friends and then turned back to Veronica.
Suddenly Duncan appeared, looking furious. His tardiness made Philippa want to punch him in the face. Would he never be there for Veronica when she needed someone? Wanker!
"Can you all take this somewhere a little more private?" he snarled, keeping his voice low.
"That's what you're worried about, Duncan? Our friends lied to us!" Veronica's voice was low, dejected. "Your sister," Veronica added.
"Yes, let's take this outside," Duncan pressed, grabbing Veronica's arm and pulling her to the door.
"Take your hands off of her," Logan shouted, placing himself in between the affianced couple and driving them apart. Philippa, fearing the row would now turn physical, placed herself next to Veronica to create a little more space between her and Duncan. They needed to keep Duncan at a distance or he would sweep Veronica away.
Logan eyed Duncan for a moment and then turned slightly and spoke just to Veronica. "Veronica, can we please talk?" he begged.
Philippa could see the tears in Veronica's eyes. "Please just give him ten minutes," she pleaded to Veronica. "He will explain everything."
Oddly enough, it was Duncan who objected. "If you think I'm going to let you be alone with him, you're out of your damn mind."
At least Lilly seemed to know how to rein him in. "Duncan, you don't want a scene. Go back to the guests and give Logan and Veronica a moment."
"It's my rehearsal dinner. This is neither the time nor the place—"
Lilly beat him to it, giving Philippa a quick nod of her head to the door and pushing Duncan the other direction. "I don't ask much of you, but I'm asking you now. You know Logan won't back down until he's said his piece. You do damage control in here and let them have a minute. Go!"
Philippa was surprised once again when Duncan listened to his sister. Lilly, it appeared, knew how to work everyone, her brother included. Philippa glanced at Lilly and Duncan's retreating figures and Lilly paused for a moment and gave her a wink and a nod. Go! she mouthed silently, her eyes glancing in the direction of the door.
Philippa didn't waste any time. She reached out to grab Logan and Veronica by the hand and marched them through the main restaurant and into the chilly February night air.
When outside, she turned to Veronica and took her by the shoulders. "You, listen to him. Give him a few moments of your time. This all went to shit, but the intention was genuine; this all started out rather innocently." Then she turned to Logan. "You, be nice. She's just had quite a shock." She looked between them for a moment before adding, "Can I trust you two not to kill each other if I go back inside?"
She didn't get any sort of response from either of them, which she considered to be a good sign. With a long, warning glance at Logan, Philippa returned to the restaurant. She'd done what she could. Now it was up to them.
Once Philippa was out of sight, Veronica closed her eyes for a long moment. All she'd heard lately was that she wasn't herself and she was too meek or too passive while Celeste and Duncan maintained that she shouldn't work, should dutifully remain passive. She was pulled in two directions. Why couldn't anyone just leave her be? Why couldn't she just be Veronica? But maybe things had gotten so twisted that she didn't even know who Veronica was anymore.
And Logan...who was he? Her mind was still reeling.
"Logan," she began. "I…" she sputtered. "You're not…"
He shook his head. "I'm not engaged." He reached out toward her and then seemed to think the better of it, which was probably a good choice. Veronica wasn't ready for him to touch her.
She closed her eyes again momentarily. He wasn't engaged? He wasn't engaged. They weren't engaged! Logan and Philippa. Neither of them. Now that he'd said it, it was more real.
Flashes of conversations raced through her head as she processed what she'd just heard. It took a moment for her brain to assemble the pieces and tidbits she'd collected over the past few weeks regarding Logan and Philippa's relationship. What had been said. What she'd inferred. And she came to the conclusion that she'd come to the wrong conclusion. Clearly her friends had gone out of their way to push her in the wrong direction, but she'd gotten there all on her own. She'd began dodging Logan's phone calls long before Philippa had entered the restaurant all those weeks ago. Not so many weeks ago, really.
How could something just a few weeks ago feel like years?
How had she gotten here? Logan wasn't engaged. He wasn't engaged.
But she still was.
Duncan.
When she opened her eyes, Logan was studying her closely, his intense gaze locked on her. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his head tilted slightly forward toward her. His forehead was wrinkled in concern, yet his raised eyebrows left him looking almost sheepish. He was the little boy she'd known so long ago, waiting to be chastised. Mischief and impulsivity had always gotten Logan Echolls into trouble. And that expression had always gotten him out of it. Why would this time be any different?
But it was different. Everything was different.
But now, at least, when Veronica looked at Logan, it was obvious that this wasn't some scheme or part of a conspiracy. It was just Logan. His face held no trace of Lilly's interference or Duncan's overbearingness. Finally it was just them. Just the two of them.
Her brief respite of calm morphed into sadness. How had they gotten here?
Logan's soft voice cut through the fog. "Veronica, can we go somewhere?"
That brought her back to the present. Was he crazy? "Um...no!" Veronica shook her head vehemently. "You seriously think I'll go somewhere with you right now? After...after what you've pulled?"
Logan's eyes widened. "Just to the car," he explained, his hands again reached for her, but he didn't pull away this time so Veronica stepped back. He panicked a moment when she did. She could see it in his eyes. Desperation. It saddened her for a split second before she remembered, once again, why they were standing outside in the cold. And it really was cold. Her coat was inside. Inside...with her friends and fiancé and her whole life, really.
Veronica shivered despite herself. Even a bit of fog had rolled in off of the ocean that evening. Logan instantly shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over her shoulders.
"Just to the car," she agreed reluctantly. "And only because I'm cold."
Logan smiled for the first time that night. It was just a slight smile but it was there. A quirk of sides of his lips that would have been imperceptible to most people. But she wasn't most people. And the smile was there.
She could do this. She could talk to him. Even about Duncan. She'd listen and...well, she didn't know after that. As they approached the car, Veronica took a peek back at the restaurant and wondered what she'd be doing right now if she hadn't been hit with this bombshell. Then she turned back to the parking lot. It didn't matter.
Logan's hands shook as he opened the passenger side door for Veronica. Things were all so muddled, and he still didn't know where to start. He didn't want to leave her alone too long though, so he quickly made his way back to the driver's side and climbed in next to her.
He placed his hands on the steering wheel and drummed his fingers against it for a moment before her voice cut through.
"So," she prompted with a quick gesture to him. "Your meeting."
Logan shook his head. "So lawyerly," he said quietly. He reached out and pressed a button to turn the electricity on in the car so the heat would come on.
"If a Parisher's song comes on, I'm going to lose my shit, Logan," she warned.
Logan chuckled and adjusted the temperature and then turned to her. "Just warm air," he said. She had adjusted, despite her dress, to face him and was meeting him head-on. She seemed braced for an argument.
Where to begin…
"Listen, I'm trying to stay calm here, but you just pulled me out of my rehearsal dinner...away from my friends and family. This had better be good."
Veronica wasn't going to make this easy on him. "You pulled Philippa out first."
"That's because I saw her and Casey. I wanted to—"
"Warn me?" he surmised, finishing her sentence for her.
"Yes!" Veronica insisted, her voice getting louder and louder. "Little did I know that this was all some scheme!"
"I'm sorry!" Logan shouted before he could think. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm. "I'm sorry, Veronica," he said, looking straight into her eyes so she could see he was sincere. "My point was that you wanted to warn me. You care about me. Just like I care about you. Just like I tried to warn you. And that's why I wanted to talk to you tonight. To warn you. So will you please listen?"
Logan didn't know if it was the desperation in his voice or if he'd finally actually gotten through to her, but Veronica seemed to loosen up at that.
"Okay, Logan, I'm listening," she said, settling back into her seat.
Showtime. Stop stalling, Logan.
Logan's grip on the wheel turned vice, and the leather squeaked under his hands. "I don't know how to start."
"Start with what you wanted to tell me at the church—something about snooping," she suggested, "and then go from there."
"Look, I'm not proud of myself if that's what you think." He released the wheel and dug into his back pocket. When he pulled out the folded papers, he made sure to leave the third in his pocket. He shouldn't have brought it with him anyway. "Lilly, Phil and I kinda sorta managed to get into Duncan's computer."
Veronica's eyes went wide. "Are you twelve?"
Logan panicked. "Maybe!" He dropped the papers into his lap and buried his hands in his hair. "Look, maybe you were okay with the whole Madison thing, but I wasn't. We weren't. We thought he was keeping things from you, and it turns out we were right."
"And what did you find?" she hissed through clenched teeth.
"A list," Logan stated plainly.
"What kind of list?" she prompted.
"A list about you." Logan hedged. "About marrying you."
Veronica must have noticed the paper he'd dropped in his lap because she reached out and snapped it away from him. Logan was quick too. His fingers closed around her wrist before she could get a look at it.
"A pros and cons list for marrying you," he expounded.
"Is that all?" Veronica cackled mirthlessly. "So what? I have one too."
"You do?" Logan was surprised at how calm she seemed about this.
Veronica nodded as if it were obvious. "This isn't a big deal, Logan," she explained. "Marriage is a huge step. Of course, I have a list. I mean some people liken it to me describing a poodle—"
"All you kept saying was dependable," he countered. "And you're right, marriage is a huge step. One not to be entered into lightly. And you should know the man you're about to marry." Logan indicated the list in her hand and let go of her forearm.
Veronica rolled her eyes but remained looking at him and she began to unfold the paper. "Well, my list is much better than dependable. Duncan is many things. He's a good man. He listens…" her voice trailed off as she read the list he'd printed.
Veronica squinted at the list in her hands and then flipped on the dash light so she could see better. What the hell?
It was a pro and con list like he'd said, but it was different than hers. Her eyes jumped to the top of the page. An email between Celeste and Duncan? She saw her name and...Madison's? So she wasn't the only contender...
Madison Sinclair pros: wealthy family, political supporters, campaign help
Madison Sinclair cons: questionable moral integrity — i.e. profession
Pole dancing instructor. The last, at least, made Veronica snicker.
Veronica Mars pros: well educated, elected official father, student loans are humanizing, malleable, blue-collar background, broken home appeals to voters
Malleable? Veronica's mind reeled. They'd been right. Logan...Lilly. All of them.
Veronica Mars cons: hours invested in job, likely in love with Logan
Veronica's stomach rolled over and she fought back a wave of nausea. It just kept getting worse. She had to stop reading. She didn't realize that she was hyperventilating until she felt Logan's hand close over hers, lowering the list to her lap.
Veronica quickly scanned the second page. It was farther down the email chain that Duncan had been writing back and forth with Celeste. Apparently, Madison had been cagey. She and Duncan had been out a few times but there hadn't been a spark. Duncan hadn't particularly cared for her despite Celeste's insistence that he try. In the end, Veronica had won out. Malleable. The word kept twisting in her gut like a knife. So beyond being great for public image, they'd chosen her to control her.
"Veronica, say something," Logan spoke. "I'm so, so sorry."
Oh, God. Of all the people to have seen this...Logan. No.
"Who's seen this?" she asked him.
Logan shrugged. "Just me. I told Philippa some of it." Veronica gasped. "Lilly only knows that I found a list." Logan reached out to touch her cheek, but Veronica pulled away.
"Good." So not everyone was privy to the sham that was her life. Veronica felt tears threatening but she swallowed them back. She wouldn't cry. She'd grown up with '09ers, she knew how to hold back tears. Veronica swiveled slightly until she was facing forward in her seat.
"Please say something," Logan repeated.
"I need to think," was what came out of her mouth. She didn't remember thinking it, but she heard herself say it.
Logan took a deep breath and turned her back to face him. "Look, I know the timing is absolute crap, but—"
"You think?" Veronica accused sarcastically. She felt crazy.
"Veronica—" he pressed.
"You just dropped a huge bomb on me, Logan. Just give me a second! I need to think," Veronica yelled, reaching up to rub her temples in rapid, circular motions. Her mind began racing through every conversation she'd had with Duncan. Her eyes jumped up to the top of the papers in her hand and she read the date there. It was just after Duncan had flown out to see her for the first time in Palo Alto. Her chest was squeezed with an invisible vise. The dates on the emails continued over the next few months and corresponded to Duncan's courtship—the one she hadn't really even realized she'd been part of. It had been very strategic. But Logan and all the scheming. Everyone...no one had been straight with her.
Logan, impatient as always, couldn't keep silent long. When he spoke, his words were cold and tight as though he was working hard to control himself. "What do you need to think about? I know this has all gone to shit, but he lied to you. More than once. It was you or Madison. Madison! Veronica, Duncan chose you to control you."
Malleable. Duncan. It had felt like he'd been so open with her. They discussed so much. Or at least they had at first. Once again, she felt pulled in every direction at once. There had to be some reason—some explanation. Maybe Celeste was the culprit. Maybe she could..."I need to talk to him."
Logan's voice tore into her thoughts. "Duncan?" His voice was menacing but it cracked with emotion. "Talk to Duncan! After everything? After this?"
"There has to be some logical—"
"Always the benefit of the doubt! Why, Veronica?" he snarled. "Why does he always get the benefit of the doubt and I get the back of you as you run away."
Veronica felt her breath catch. She couldn't pull fresh air into her lungs. The crushing weight pressing down on her hurt. She was scared and frustrated and defensive. She didn't always run from Logan, did she? It couldn't be true, could it? Was it? She truly didn't know. If she did run, it wasn't a conscious decision that she made.
"Why, Veronica?" Logan repeated more carefully this time.
She was so confused. Logan was just...so much. He drew things out of her and made her vulnerable and she didn't like it. He stirred things up in her that she didn't know how to react to or contain. He always had.
"I don't…" she gasped for a second, reaching up with her hands to grasp at words she hadn't fully conceptualized yet.
"You don't what?" he growled.
"I don't know, okay!" Veronica shouted, clenching her hands tight and pressing her fists against her eyes. She groaned in frustration and then dropped her hands into her lap. "I don't know, Logan."
Logan shifted once again to face her fully. He reached out and took one of her hands in his and Veronica knew instantly why she ran from him. It was self-preservation.
"Veronica, I love you."
Veronica choked on nothing. Absolutely nothing. No. This was too much. She was dizzy. She couldn't…
"I think I always loved you. I knew I had a connection to you. Always a connection. When you moved up to Stanford, I was kind of lost for a little while. I'd gotten so used to you, to us, that I almost didn't know how to function without you. But you left, and it ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me. I found my way—my own path. And it was amazing. I helped so many people. But something was missing. Then I had this moment where I realized that thing was you. And then I realized that I'd already proposed. That my crazy, mixed-up teenage self had known what I needed all along. But now I could do things right. I could do things like an adult rather than a stupid, impulsive kid in a coffee house. You weren't dating anyone, and I still had time. I had months before that stupid deadline we'd set. I made this plan to sweep you off your feet, and then when the time was right, I'd do it over again. Propose the right way. I thought I had time…"
"You love me?" she gaped.
He nodded. Veronica should have been thrilled, she should have been overwhelmed with joy. The man she wanted, the one she'd always wanted, was sitting before her declaring his undying love. But after all the bullshit and games, all she felt was ire. "Love?" she repeated breathlessly. Accusingly. The tension that had begun in her head was spreading throughout her body. "Love, Logan? Until five minutes ago, I thought you were engaged."
"But I wasn't. Ever," he informed her. "Is that why you started avoiding me?" he asked.
She managed a nod. There was no point in denying anything now.
Logan's jaw clenched and she saw his hands tense and shake. "Do you love me too?" he asked, his voice was desperate. He was putting it all out there.
And she avoided it. "It was all over the papers. You and Philippa were all over the papers."
"That was all just tabloid rubbish," he explained.
Months ago she might have thought it was super cute that he'd picked up British phrases. Now not so much. She was panting in frustration. "Rubbish? It was something about 'America's most eligible bachelor and Miss PrettyPerfect heiress' being 'ineligible'. It was dance lessons. Like for a wedding."
Logan groaned loudly. "It was for you. All for you. Not the first times we were in the papers, but the dance lessons." He paused slightly as he leaned his head back against the headrest. He closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "You always complained that no one ever danced with you."
Holy shit. This couldn't be happening. The windows had fogged up and suddenly the warm air filling the car was a poison gas constricting her airway. Veronica couldn't breathe. Oxygen. She needed... air. She fished along the side of the door for window mechanism, but that part of the car was dark from the shadow of her body. She frantically fumbled along the car door for a second. Losing the battle with the tears that were stinging her eyes, she gave up with the window and threw the door open. How she somehow managed to keep herself on her feet as she spilled out of the car, she'd never know. It was all a blur. She bent over at the waist and grasped her knees in an effort to keep herself from crumbling. A blast of cold air hit Veronica the second she was free, but she didn't feel the chill. It was only relief of freedom after confinement.
Logan was instantly in front of her. He bent down onto his haunches and covered her hands with his own. He tried to meet her gaze, but she wouldn't do it. It was all her fault. She'd done this. She'd read into things what she'd wanted to and Duncan had been there at the right moment. Shit.
It was her fault. All of it.
"Veronica," he pleaded. At the sound of her name, Veronica gave in and looked at him. He looked so lost. About as lost as she felt. "Do you love me?" he asked again.
Breathe in, breathe out, she instructed herself. She was lost in his eyes. Such passion in those brown eyes.
"Choose me," he insisted, his eyes burning into hers. "Love me."
A noise in the distance caught her attention and she looked away. She looked toward the restaurant where Duncan was standing by the door, his eyes scanning the parking lot. She could only presume that he was looking for her.
Veronica couldn't bring herself to look back at Logan. Into his eyes. She didn't know what she would do if she did. With a slight burst of a sob, she righted herself to straight. No, she couldn't do this. This had always been the problem. Everything was just too much between them. And now...this...she'd done this to herself. They'd all made it worse, but she'd ultimately been the one to make this mess. She shut her heart off and did what she needed to do.
"I've gotta go," she informed Logan mechanically. Veronica swiftly shrugged off his jacket and draped it across his still outstretched arm. "I'm getting married tomorrow."
She heard Logan's sudden intake of breath. His sharp gasp that burrowed into her chest like an arrow.
"Veronica, you can't possibly—"
Veronica heard his words, but then shut out the rest. She began her calm, collected walk across the parking lot towards her fiancè.
Shit, she really did run. The realization was soul-crushing, but she couldn't stop it. She couldn't control it.
Self-preservation.
The suite was utterly silent. Gloriously silent. The only sound Logan could hear was when he moved. It was the clinking of the tiny bottles he'd found in the mini fridge after leaving the Neptune Grand's bar downstairs. He was sitting in the dark, propped against...a couch—at least he thought it was a couch.
A sudden burst, a slit of light, surprised him. The stream then expanded until he was blinded. He scowled at the beam that was intruding on his drunken solitude and he partially covered his eyes to block it out. To block everything out. How many shots had he taken downstairs?
This was not good.
The beam of light illuminated a familiar willowy framed figure with another, taller one. The figures shared a chaste kiss and a long hug. It was tender and loving. Logan liked watching it. It was like a serene silent movie he could watch from between his fingers.
After a brief glimpse, Logan was disappointed when one shadow retreated and the other one—the slighter one—stepped into the room. Such a familiar shape, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He watched as his intruder fought with her own clothing, reaching first over her shoulder and then behind her back as she groaned. Momentarily giving up, the shadow kicked the shoes off her feet. One landed next to his side, while the other hit him square in the face. He didn't even bother to flinch. Apparently she couldn't see him, so maybe he wasn't even there. Because who would come in and throw shoes at him? He knew the figure wasn't Veronica, and no one else hated him right now. At least he didn't think so.
Everything came together when the figure spoke. "Bloody dress!" an accented voice cursed as she finally managed to unzip her dress.
The clothing fell to Philippa's waist and she let it hang there as she made her way to the small fridge in the kitchen area. She bent over and pulled out a bottled water and chugged it down, apparently not noticing that all the tiny bottles of alcohol were missing. The alcohol that was now clouding his mind. And his judgment.
"Thanks for the strip show, Phil. 'Specially since I prolly missed the bachelor party!" he slurred.
"What the hell?" she shot to standing and spun around, instinctively pulling her dress to cover her bra.
Logan laughed heartily, but the laugh turned into a sort of miserable groan and then he damn near cried. Again.
"Logan?" Philippa flipped on the light near him and he scowled up at her, squinting. She was scowling back down at him, gasping in fear, her hand on her chest. He could see that her heart was pounding.
"The one and only." God, he sounded as miserable as he felt. "Hope ya don' mind, but I started without you," Logan slurred.
"Looks like you more than started," she mumbled that part, but he could hear her. "You scared the shit out of me," she accused more loudly.
"You threw a shoe at my head!" he countered one hand over his eyes.
That made her snicker. "Yes, well, you probably deserved it."
"How d'ya figure?" he asked. He tried to throw his arms wide, but the movement caused him to tip over.
"I have been looking for you. I was worried. And you didn't handle that at all well, darling," she reminded him.
"I didn't expect Veronica to rat us out. My very private conversation with her turned…" Logan struggled to find the right word, "...not private."
Veronica. The thought of her made him want to moan all over again. He'd stopped himself from leaving embarrassing voicemail messages. Well, more accurately, he'd stopped himself after he'd left the first one. The one that started kind of mean but was heartfelt by the end. That had been a mistake, he'd realized after he'd hung up. Not that it would make any difference either way.
With a humph, Philippa turned to the master bedroom, which was hers, and disappeared past the open door.
"I really hope that was Casey with you back there, by the way," Logan called out, to her. "Because if it's not, shit just got a whole lot more complicated," Logan's words were punctuated by a large hiccup and a small burp.
"Charming," Philippa chided lightly as she reemerged wearing an old worn out Oxford sweatshirt that Logan knew had been her sister Sarah's and yoga pants. Her hair was twisted on top of her head in a messy bun. "Of course it was Casey! Now let's get you off the floor."
Philippa tugged him to his shaky feet and then pushed him down onto the couch. He flopped back, groaning as he landed, and she sat down right beside him.
"She chose him, Phil," Logan groaned. He could feel tears welling up behind his eyes again and he didn't even care. He pivoted on the large sofa and laid his head in her lap. He looked up into her hazel eyes and couldn't hold the tears back anymore. "I told her I love her and...she chose Duncan."
"I know, darling," Philippa soothed, stroking his hair. "I'm so sorry. But you did the right thing. She needed to know about the list...and Madison."
"I couldn't tell her the rest, Phil. I love her too much to hurt her. Don't know if it would make a difference, but it would hurt her. Just...couldn't," Logan mumbled.
Philippa's eyes narrowed, and she studied him carefully. "The rest?" she asked. "Logan, I don't understand."
"Yes, the rest!" he growled, knowing he made no sense but not caring. "She shouldn't have to know that. Wanted to punch Duncan his big fat face!" Then his eyes went wide. "Did I?"
Philippa's expression turned soft then. "You didn't. You were the bigger man. You walked away."
"The bigger man would have dated her years ago when he had the chance. The bigger man lost." Logan groaned and brought his hands to his face. "Being the bigger man sucks."
Suddenly his hands were removed from his face forcibly. "Logan Echolls, what in the hell is on your hand?" Philippa hissed.
"Oh shit, I forgot." Logan tried to pull his hand from her grasp, but Philippa held it strong. That's when the tears started. Real tears that he couldn't even try to hold back in his inebriated state.
"Is that..." Apparently, Philippa couldn't even bring herself to finish the sentence.
"Yes," he tearfully admitted. "Duncan's ring! I don't know what the hell possessed me, but I tried it on."
Philippa started laughing. Howling laughing. Not in a mean way, but it killed Logan a little, especially when she danced her feet on the floor a little bit during one particularly strong roll of laughter.
"Shut up!" he moaned. "I know, I get it. I'm pitiful. If anyone finds out about this, my man card will be revoked for all time!"
"Well, take it off!" she shouted.
"I can't!" he countered even louder. "I tried everything. I tried water, and spit, and some booze." Logan groaned. "Another low point of the evening," he admitted. "Even soap! Now my finger's all swollen and the damn thing might never come off. It's Duncan's fault...him with his freakishly, girlishly small hands that are tiny. What a pussy." He paused for a moment and took in Philippa as she picked up her phone. "If you're taking a picture to post online, I swear to God, Phil—"
"Oh, relax," she assured him. Then she fell silent as she played with her phone. For a moment Logan forgot everything again. He just lay there, letting Philippa massage his scalp and hair. It felt good. It felt like something his mom would do if she was here, but it didn't make him sad like thoughts like that often did. He felt comforted.
After a moment, she slipped out from under his head, replacing her lap with a throw pillow. "I won't be a minute."
Logan might have fallen asleep. He'd been close, at least. But a tug on his hand made him open his eyes. She settled herself on the floor next to the couch and held his hand up, studying it. "You're lucky I always come prepared for everything," she informed him. "Hold this," she said, handing him a needle.
"What the hell?" he asked. Instantly awake, he jerked his head erect.
"Relax," she repeated. "Just hold still."
"Famous last words," Logan grunted but set his head back down on the pillow.
"Don't you trust me?" she asked, a bit of cheeky challenge in her tone.
"I trust you," Logan told her because he did.
He watched through hooded eyes as Philippa unrolled several feet of mint green dental floss and broke it off. She began tightly wrapping the floss around his finger from the ring all the way past his first joint, leaving a long stretch of floss on each end free. Then she took the needle from him and squinted as she threaded the end of the floss that was closest to the ring through the eye. Logan wanted to pull his hand away, but he didn't.
Philippa gave him a comforting smile as she pushed the inside of his finger away from the ring as much as possible and threaded the needle through the tiny space she'd created there.
"Dangerous part's over, Echolls," she teased, "You can breathe again now."
Logan smiled and let out his breath. She knew him so well.
Carefully, Philippa began to tug on the end she'd just threaded through the ring. Logan watched in enraptured awe as the ring slowly began its ascent. Just seconds later, the ring slid past his finger joints and then the tip and dropped onto his chest. Philippa picked it up and gave him a triumphant grin.
"I think I'll hold on to that, thank you very much," she quipped as she closed her fist tightly around the band. "I assume you didn't flush hers down the toilet," Philippa speculated.
Logan shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "'Course not. It's in the box up on the wet bar."
"Where this one should be as well!" Philippa gave him side-eye and then popped to her feet, but Logan grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down until her face was hovering over his again.
"Phil, thank you. That was amazing," he grinned. Maybe his first real grin of the evening. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"
Philippa gave a small huff and closed the distance between them to kiss his forehead. "Pinterest," she told him plainly, and then with a wink, she was gone.
Philippa tossed the cream-colored towel with the Grand's logo embroidered on it onto the foot of her bed and padded her way out to check on Logan. He'd been on his back when she'd left him to shower, and she was worried about him. He'd been coherent enough to talk earlier, but she'd never seen Logan drink more than a social glass of wine at dinner. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Logan, she realized, was much too tall for the sofa he was sleeping on. His head was at an awkward angle, and his legs were hanging off the end of the couch, where his calves hit the arm. It wouldn't do at all. Even if he was going to ditch the wedding in the morning, he needed to sleep well.
She hoped he wasn't too knocked out to rouse.
"Logan," she whispered, gently rubbing his shoulder. "Logan, I think you should move to the bed, darling. It'll be so much more comfortable."
Logan turned in his sleep and snuggled closer to her hand that was still on his shoulder. It made her smile despite herself.
"No, you can't sleep here, darling." She spoke a little louder this time.
"Slept much worse places," he mumbled against her hand.
Said the man with houses on multiple continents and a flat in Kensington. "Well, not tonight you're not," she reasoned, pulling her hand out from his neck and grabbing his wrist. She gave his arm a firm tug and he resisted. "Please just help me get you settled into bed," she implored. "I want to sleep too. I've got to be up in five hours to begin the beautification process," she explained. "It's a long and arduous expedition, yes I know...see I can insult myself faster than you can when you're sloshed. Isn't this fun?"
She knew that teasingly insulting herself would get him moving, and it did. Logan pulled himself up to sitting and popped one eye open to give her a once over.
"Happy now?" he grumbled.
"Nearly," she admitted, gathering his other hand in hers. "Well done. Now up you go…" she said as she shakily hoisted him to standing and took some of his weight to steady him.
Luckily, his room was close. "Where are the girls?" he asked when he realized where she'd led him. They were supposed to be staying here with Philippa tonight.
"Well, our plans for the evening took an unfortunate turn." Philippa ignored Logan's snort. "Last I saw, Lilly was in her parent's suite yelling, and Veronica was in Duncan's—"
"Yelling?" Logan surmised.
Philippa lowered him to the bed, taking a moment to stretch her back after his added weight disappeared. "I'm afraid not," she told him. "It was oddly quiet in there."
"Not a good sign for me," Logan chirped. "As expected." He tried to unbutton his shirt but gave up.
Philippa bent over and pushed his hands out of the way and finished unbuttoning the shirt for him. When he pulled his shirt off, she tugged a Hearst t-shirt she'd found in the dresser over his head and then set off to hang up the shirt in her hands. "You can take your own trousers off," she informed him, handing him the pajama pants she'd found with the shirt. "I'll hang them up for you."
Mercifully, Logan did as he was told and then slid under the downturned sheets. "Phil? Can you grab me a Gatorade from the fridge?" he asked. "Maybe a few Advil?"
"You really did use to drink a lot, didn't you?" she asked rhetorically. It was hard to picture; he was usually so in control.
She did as he asked. He swallowed down the pills with half the bottle of liquid and set the rest on the bedside table.
"Lay with me?" he asked. "For a little while? Don' wanna be alone right now," he whispered.
How could she refuse him anything, poor dear. "Of course, I will," she said comfortingly before sliding under the sheets next to him and cuddling up to him when he pulled her into his side.
"I never really believed you before, but you were right," she admitted.
"Right about what?" he asked.
"Neptune," she said plainly. "It is the Hellmouth. Holy shit, I don't know how you ever survived growing up here."
Logan laughed, but it was mirthless. "I don't think I can do this, Phil." His voice broke then. "You said it wouldn't come to this. You said—"
"I was wrong," Philippa admitted. "I'm sorry; I don't understand her at all. She's not happy with him. She's...I guess I shouldn't be surprised; you're both just too bloody stubborn for your own good. Idiots, the lot of you."
She did feel guilty. She had been sure that Veronica would see through Duncan long ago. They shouldn't have played games. This was real life, not some silly Hollywood clichè.
"How can she—after all that—expect me to stand there and watch—"
"Because we're going to do what she's doing. We're not doing it because we agree with her decision or it makes us happy. We're doing it because it's what we think is the right thing to do; because we promised," she said firmly, not knowing which of them she was trying to convince. Probably both. Her bravado was false, though. She was going to have a hard time being there as well. "You'll go, and you'll stand there, and you'll pass off the rings. And then afterward, I'll sit with you and I'll hold your hand, and we'll—"
"Pretend that my heart isn't broken..." he finished for her. His voice was stronger now.
"Yes," she agreed. "And then we'll come back here and get shitfaced—" he laughed at that "one last time. And then the next morning, the moment we manage to crawl out from beneath our hangovers, we'll hop a plane to Heathrow and we'll hole ourselves up in your beautiful flat. At which time, I'll give you exactly a fortnight to wallow in self-pity—soberly, of course—"
"Of course," he snickered.
"And then we'll go from there." She paused and raised her head to look into his eyes. "We'll find you the best yogi in the whole of the United Kingdom and he'll sort you out—both of us out. We'll be so centered we can't see straight."
That made him snicker again.
"You won't be alone."
There were tears in his eyes. "I won't be alone," he confirmed. "What did I do to deserve you?" he asked.
Philippa scoffed at that. "That's the part you still haven't quite wrapped your head around, Echolls. We're family, now, you and I. You don't have to do anything to deserve family. They're just there. All the time. Even when you ask them to leave." She laid her head back down on his chest.
"Thank you," he said, squeezing her tightly.
"Though Casey may pop in there from time-to-time as well," she admitted almost sheepishly. "You'll have to make room."
"I'll gladly share," he promised. "After my two weeks, I mean. Those are just mine. But Casey...I approve. I like him; your dad's gonna love him. At least one good thing came of all of this."
She smiled. "That it did."
Philippa kept her head against Logan until his breathing evened out and she was sure he was asleep enough that he wouldn't be bothered. Despite being totally knackered, she was still too restless to sleep. She needed to pace and think for a while or at least sit on the balcony and take in the city view. Something to remind her that the world was bigger than this town, this mess.
She gently pulled herself out of Logan's arms and slid from between the sheets. Philippa made her way around the bed and carefully rolled Logan onto his side, shushing him as she did so to keep him comfortable.
She watched him sleep peacefully for a moment, reveling in the calm before tomorrow's inevitable storm, and then she placed a quick peck on his forehead and turned to tip-toe out. A step away from the bed, her foot came into contact with something soft, and she looked down to see Logan's suit trousers crumbled in a pile. They'd have to be dry cleaned later, but she couldn't leave them that way.
She tiredly bent over and snatched them off the floor and made her way to the closet. She found the right pant hanger and then hung the pants by their feet to line up the seams properly. As she gave them a little shake and threw them over the hanger, a small stack of folded up papers fell from the back pocket to the floor. Philippa hung the suit in the closet and closed the door before she retrieved the papers from the floor. She held them away from her distastefully, knowing that it was Duncan's damned list. The one Logan had printed from Duncan's laptop—Duncan's pro and con list comparing Veronica and Madison Sinclair. Lilly's brother disgusted her.
Philippa tossed the list onto the coffee table by the sofa, wondering for about the thousandth time that day what the hell was wrong with Neptune, California. It was morning in London. She considered calling her father for advice, but decided on silence instead; she moved to the bar and poured herself a tall glass of wine to settle her nerves.
She really intended to mind her own business. That had been the plan. But the papers sitting there proved to be too tempting. She'd not yet seen them firsthand. She'd come this far—meddled this much. Why stop now?
The first few pages weren't anything interesting. It was everything Logan had explained to her and Lilly before the rehearsal dinner. Duncan was a tosser to be sure, but that was yesterday's news. And then Philippa's eyes caught the end. The last page. The one that was separate from the others. She instantly felt the blood drain from her face. It couldn't be. This had to be a joke. But it couldn't be.
Logan's comment from earlier popped into her head. The rest. Holy shit. Philippa carefully folded the papers and placed them back on the table. She understood why Logan couldn't tell Veronica the rest. It was overwhelming and just wrong. He loved her too much.
Luckily, Philippa realized, she didn't have such scruples. Enraged like she hadn't been in years, she crossed the suite into her bedroom and retrieved her phone. She noticed that her hands were shaking as she pulled up the phone number she needed and placed the call. It connected a moment later and she couldn't deny the anguished groan that came from her.
"Casey, I need you," she breathlessly spoke into the phone.
There wouldn't be any sleeping for her tonight.
I had this chapter all queued up to post in February, but I chickened out. I hadn't written much of Chapter 10 and panicked. I spent this last weekend with Lisa and we managed to squeeze in a little writing time, and then a nice review today (thanks, jmazzy) gave me courage. Chapter ten is mostly written (it's LONG), and I have a good feeling for the epilogue. And you've waited a long time! Thanks for the encouraging messages. At least you got almost 13K words this time, even if I did leave it...well, like *that*.
Thanks to kmd0107 and LisaWolfe80 for their help.