Authors: Aris Whittier
"Aren’t you?"
"Not all the time." She scooted over and rested her head on his
shoulder. "You are so comfortable with yourself that you give off the
kind of contentment that puts everybody else at ease."
"You included."
"Yes,
me
included." She squinted at the
headlights of a passing car.
"Just be yourself. That’s all any of us need to do is be
ourselves."
"Most of us don’t know who we are. We spend most of our lives
trying to figure it out. What’s our purpose, that’s the million
dollar
question.
" She looked up at him.
"What do you think our purpose is?"
"I’m not sure but I think it’s different for
everyone."
She nodded in agreement and silence fell over them as they drove down the
moonlit road, which led them home.
"You know what I want to do when I get home?" Amber said.
"What’s that?"
"I want to go find a good book and then I want to kick back and relax
in that ridiculously large hammock outback."
"That does sound nice."
She looked at him. "Will you join me?"
Logan glanced down at his watch. "I have to check my messages and take
care of some office work, but after that I will."
* * * *
That’s exactly what Amber did. After changing into a pair of yoga
pants and a tank top she made her way into the library. Thumbing through the
shelf of books a dark green binding, which extended beyond the others, caught
her fingers. Cocking her head she read the title aloud—"The
Celestine Prophecy".
Pulling the book out, she flipped it over and read the blurb on the back.
"Drawing on the ancient wisdom found in a Peruvian manuscript, it tells
you how to make connections between the events happening in your own life right
now…and lets you see what is going to happen to you in the years to
come." She turned the book over again. She needed insight and it sounded
like this book had a lot of it. Perhaps the author could explain what was going
on between her and Logan so she might actually be able to understand it.
Tucking the hardback under her arm she headed outside. After lighting the
five oil lamps that surrounded the large hammock she settled into the oversized
sling and opened the book. There was an inscription on the inside cover written
in beautiful handwriting that read, "To Logan, With Love & Blessings,
Mom". She would get to meet Logan’s mom very soon. The thought made
her nervous but at the same time brought a smile to her face. She really wanted
to meet his family. She was curious to see if they would understand and be
accepting of her and Logan’s relationship. She knew it didn’t
really matter—she and Logan couldn’t control what was happening
between them. However, it would be so much easier if his family was supportive.
Logan was so remarkable she also wanted to see if his family was just
extraordinary. She had a feeling they would be.
"You found a book?" Logan said as he moved across the lawn and
approached her.
"Yes." She tilted the cover so he could read it.
"The Celestine Prophecy—great choice.
That’s a very good book." He stared down at her. "Is there
room for me?"
"Of course."
He smiled as he nudged her with his knee. "Then scoot over."
Once he was situated, Amber rolled onto her side and rested her head on his
chest, her arm wrapped around his stomach as she held the book in one hand. Her
legs tangled with his as she pressed tightly against him.
"Have you gotten to page ten yet?"
"No, I just read the inscription from your mom."
"What’s taking you so long?"
"I just opened the book."
"Skip ahead."
She flipped through the pages.
"The paragraph starts with; the priest told me," he said softly
as he fingered a piece of her hair.
Amber lifted her head and looked at him oddly. "You seriously remember
the page and the paragraph? That’s not right, Logan."
"Just read it," he insisted.
"You know you’re like one of those guys off the show Big Bang
Theory."
"The what?"
"You’ve never heard of it?"
"I’m familiar with the theory but I wasn’t aware there is
a television show about it."
"It’s not really about the theory, but it is a sitcom where
these super smart geeks—"
He tugged on her hair. "Are you calling me a geek?"
She shook her head and laughed.
"Of course not.
I’m calling you super smart."
"Nice save. Just read page ten."
She looked back at the page and began to read. "The priest told me
that this is the experience that we’ve glimpsed and that we’re now
trying to manifest all the time. More people every day are convinced that this
mysterious movement is real and that it means something that something else is
going on beneath everyday life. This awareness is the First Insight."
Amber paused as she thought about what she was reading before she continued on,
"The First Insight is a reconsideration of the inherent mystery that
surrounds our individual lives on this planet. We are experiencing these
mysterious coincidences, and even though we don’t understand them yet, we
know they are real. We are sensing again, as in childhood, that there is
another side of life that we have yet to discover, some other process operating
behind the scenes." She closed the book and looked at him.
"That’s us, isn’t it?"
"It’s real," he whispered. "What’s between us
is real, it isn’t a coincidence. You’ll enjoy this book. It will
help you understand."
She nodded. "I didn’t think it was a coincidence. Heather told
me once that there are no coincidences in life."
"I don’t believe we have random experiences," he added.
"There is a purpose for everything that happens to us."
She smiled at him. "So, we’re not just a happenstance?"
He shook his head as he kissed the tip of her nose.
"Not
at all."
"Are you done with your business?"
"Yes, it’s all taken care of. I’m finished for the
night."
She turned her head and rested it back on his chest. "Do you always
work at night?"
"No, I work whenever I want. However, I’m partial to very early
in the morning or very late at night. But if I have to return calls to people
who work normal hours then I’m forced to work during the day. This
evening I had to make calls overseas so the time change works out well."
"Why the odd hours?"
"I don’t sleep much and I just prefer those times."
"I notice you’re always up before me."
"I run fine on 2-3 hours a night."
"You’re kidding?"
A faint smile touched his lips when he heard the shock in her voice.
"No, it’s always been that way."
"That’s why you’ve accomplished so much."
"Perhaps."
He found her hand and took
it in his own, looking at how their fingers intertwined.
She was quiet, counting his breaths as his chest rose and then fell.
"I could get used to this kind of life."
"Yeah?"
Amber snuggled closer.
Taking in his scent.
Enjoying how strong he felt beside her. "I could get use to this
too."
Logan watched the sky.
"Me too."
He was
quiet for a moment. "What would you do if money wasn’t an
issue?"
"That’s easy. I would quit my jobs and go to college."
"You want to attend college?"
"Yes, it’s always been a dream. Just one I’ve never been
able to obtain. There’s never been enough time or money. Don’t get
me wrong—I’m not after the whole experience of making lifelong
friends, joining a sorority, and partying to the wee hours. I only want the
education and the knowledge."
"What would you study?"
"I’m not sure. I would love to work with people who have
cancer."
"You would be good with them. Would you want to be a doctor?"
Her laugh was a soft, tired sigh. "I don’t know about a doctor.
That seems so far out of my reach."
"Nothing’s out of your reach. All you have to do is decide to do
something then do it."
"Is that what you did?"
"Yes."
"Then maybe I’ll do it," she said confidently.
"That’s my girl."
"Do you think that’s my purpose— to go to college to get
an education so I can help people?"
"Could be."
"You’re too accommodating."
"Encouraging," he countered.
"Whatever. Sometimes I just feel like I’m out here in the world
floundering around. I keep waiting for that moment where I realize what
I’m doing and who I’m supposed to be."
"I think people need to stop waiting and just live life. They’ll
figure out exactly where and who they’re supposed to be along the
way."
"I suppose you’re right. I’m just not patient. I
don’t want to be a waitress my entire life but I keep doing it because I
have no other direction to go in."
"Trust me Amber, you will find your direction in due time." He
tightened his arm that cradled her. "My family will be here tomorrow
afternoon. I thought we could go shopping first thing in the morning."
She moaned her reply.
"Let’s go in so you can get some rest." When he felt her
shake her head he asked, "Why?"
"Because I don’t want to leave your
arms."
She yawned and stretched her legs down the length of his,
making herself more comfortable.
"Who says you have to leave them?" He nudged her playfully.
"Wake up."
"I don’t want to wake up." She ran her hand over his chest
and across his flat stomach. She felt the dip of his bellybutton and traced a
lazy circle around it. "Let’s sleep out here."
"It may feel comfortable right now but I guarantee an entire night on
this will have your back begging for mercy in the morning." He nudged her
again.
"
Unhh
, I don’t want to get up."
She yawned again. "Besides, your bedtime isn’t for another three
hours."
He glanced at his watch, that’d be around two in the morning.
"Maybe so, but your bedtime—"
"Could be right here, right now."
She
lifted her head and looked at him, but his face was in a shadow, hiding his
expression.
"What?" he asked.
"I want you to hold me," she said, a little surprised at how
serious she sounded.
He shifted slightly so his eyes could find hers in the dark. "I
am," he whispered as he tightened his arms around her.
"All night."
He watched her.
"You can’t do that in separate beds." She smiled slightly
trying to ease the tense moment. "One doesn’t need a PhD to figure
that out."
He said nothing.
"Not only am I positive that you’ve held me before, the way you
were looking at me on the beach today, I am positive that you’ve done
more than just hold me."
He swallowed.
"You push me toward the guest bedroom every night. I don’t want
to sleep in the guest room," she softly admitted. "All day long I
get to hold you, touch you, and be with you. Then at night I feel you pull
away."
His features turned tender but he still didn’t speak.
"When we kiss I feel like you want me more than anything else in this
world. But then you stop. Why do you pull away? Why are you afraid to touch me
sometimes?"
He lifted his hand hesitantly to her cheek. "I’m not afraid.
I’m just a little unsure."
"Unsure of what?"
She leaned into the
touch.
"Myself." He brushed his knuckles along her jaw.
"I don’t understand."
"If you’re in my bed I don’t think I’d be able to
stop with just holding you."
"What if I don’t want you to stop with just holding me?"
she asked softly.
"That’s what I’m a little unsure of."
"Logan—"
"I want you to remember first."
"And if that takes—"
"It doesn’t matter how long it takes." He insisted.
They woke, in separate beds. Logan had been up for hours by the time Amber
stirred. He’d showered, shaved, dressed, and read two different
papers—the New York Times and the LA Times. The Washington Post would
have to wait until the evening—there was much to do today.
He’d also managed to squeeze in two conference calls, a call to his
lawyer, who was thankfully on the east coast, so he was up, and a quick call to
an investor, leaving a detailed message on his voice mail. He’d
participated in a video conference with eight other businessmen scattered
throughout the world. He had intended to fly to London for the meeting, but
canceled the night he had met Amber.
He pulled the carafe form the coffee maker and filled his cup for the third
time that morning. Sipping, he watched the world news on the kitchen
television. Unfortunately, a small city located in Ecuador, which he had spent
extensive time in had just been rocked by a large earthquake. Damage was major
and the extent of injuries was still unknown. He shook his head sadly as he
watched the coverage. Places he’d shopped and ate at were completely
destroyed. He made a mental note to have some money sent to them for their
relief efforts.
Logan pushed off the counter and looked down at his watch when he heard
Amber stumble down the hall and into the kitchen. "Good morning,"
he said and he retrieved the kettle that he had been keeping warm for her.
"Is it?" she mumbled still not fully awake.
He smiled to himself as he poured the hot water in the cup and dropped in a
tea bag. "That depends where you live. I read today it’s supposed
to be beautiful. Seventy-six degrees, clear, with light winds. However, if
you’re living in Chimborazo—"
"What?
Where?"
"A city in Ecuador," he explained. "It’s not a good
morning there."
She rubbed her eyes.
"It was hit by an earthquake early this morning." He moved
across the kitchen to get the honey, still talking as he did. "I spent
time there. Interestingly, Mount Chimborazo, or actually its peak, is the
furthest point away from the center of the earth. That means if you were to
stand on top of it you couldn’t get any closer to the sun," he then
added. "Or space for that matter. Most people think Mount Everest is the
tallest but I disagree."
She stared at him.
"It’s located near the Andes," he said as he turned and
waited for any type of recognition on her face. When her odd expression
didn’t fade he continued. "The Andes are the world’s longest
continuous mountain range. It’s located in South America."
"Like the mints," she said in a drowsy voice after a thought
processing moment.
"That’s right, like the mints."
"Andrew
Kanelos
created the chocolate mint
in the early nineteen twenties. Though he’s not from South America, he
was a Greek immigrant. Most people called him Andy, hence the name. He ended up
changing the spelling to Andes and then just ran with the whole mountain peak
thing."
She held up her hands stopping him. "I’m going to be honest with
you. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about right
now."
"Which part?"
"All of it," she said with a heavy-eyed sigh. "From the
moment I stepped into the kitchen."
"You’re not a morning person, are you?" he asked
needlessly, smiling at her sour face. "I made you tea."
"Don’t tease me, it’s too early," she said in a
groggy voice. She took the cup. "Thank you."
"It’s not early," he pointed out.
"For normal people it is." She took a sip of the tea. It was
warm and delicious, not to mention the kindest thing he could have done.
"Are you insinuating that I’m not normal?"
She held his eyes over the rim of the mug. "I said don’t tease
me. I’m not even awake yet."
He glanced at his watch. "Do you know that I’ve
already—"
"Did you even sleep?" she interrupted as she eyed his clothes,
his clean-shaven face, and the folded newspaper on the counter.
"Of course I slept. I went to bed a little after you did."
"You’re an overachiever," she said hastily.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"It is when you’ve gotten more done in an hour than I get done
in a day."
He knew his smile should have been sympathetic but he couldn’t resist
her sleepy look. A taunting grin consumed his face and touched his voice.
"Perhaps, you should try getting up a little earlier—"
"Stop teasing me," she demanded.
"But you’re so cute when I do."
"Logan Richards."
"If I can’t tease you, can I kiss you?" He didn’t
wait for an answer. In one quick movement, he took the cup from her hand and
set it on counter. Smoothly, he guided her backward until she bumped the wall
and stopped. Dropping his head, he kissed her deeply, his arms holding her
tightly as his tongue explored her mouth hungrily.
Logan would memorize the taste of her mouth, the feel of her tongue touching
his, and the way their breaths mixed. The way she smelled in the morning and
the dreamy look in her eyes when she woke would not be forgotten because he
would memorize it all and take it with him.
She responded by opening her mouth wider and wrapping her arms around him.
The soft moan that slipped from her lips didn’t go unnoticed. A smile
curved her pliant mouth as he pulled away and spoke. "I’ll make
sure you get a full night’s sleep tonight. Perhaps, that will ease you
into tomorrow morning."
"You’re still teasing, however…" Her eyes were heavy
and intense with desire when she looked deeply into his. "I can care less
how many hours of sleep I get just as long as you wake me every morning like
this."
He smiled. "That can be arranged."
Her eyebrow arched. "Can it."
He held her sultry gaze for a moment.
"Absolutely."
"I’m going to hold you to it." She draped her arms over
his shoulders and with both hands she touched the back of his neck, stroking
her fingers lightly back and forth. "By the way, I have a tendency to
wake better without so much trivia first thing in the morning."
"Was that a little much?"
"Just a little."
He touched his finger to his temple.
"Noted.
The lady likes to waken with a kiss and not as much trivia." Unlocking
his arms he said, "We need to go to town."
"Like this second?"
He glanced at his watch.
"Soon."
She refused to let go of him as he tried to retrieve her tea. "Why
can’t we stay here and just do this?"
Logan kissed her forehead, her hair, and each of her eyes, taking his time
doing so. "It’s tempting, but I have no food in the house and my
family will be here this afternoon."
She pouted a little.
"Did I mention they’ll be starving?" He pinched her chin
playfully. "We eat. That’s what we do when they come. We eat a
lot."
Releasing him, she picked up her cup and took a drink. "Do we have to
pick them up?"
"No. I keep a car at the airport just for them. That way they are free
to come and go when they please."
"That’s convenient."
"I’m going to call the airport to make sure the flight is on
schedule."
Amber followed him out of the kitchen and then turned off at the guest
bedroom door. "I’ll get ready."
* * * *
Within an hour she had taken a shower, gotten dressed, and eaten a quick
breakfast with Logan. Thirty minutes later they were at the local market
shopping. In the deli department they got a half a dozen steaks, a ton of
seafood, lunch meat, and three different types of salads. They then loaded up
with lots of snacks for Kevin, several bottles of wine, and about five
different kinds of desserts because neither of them could decide what they
wanted and at that moment everything sounded good.
Logan surprised Amber by stopping off at the English Tea Room on their way
home. "I think we can spare thirty minutes," he said as he held
open the door for her. "And no, I don’t own
this
place so don’t
even ask."
"I had no intention of asking."
"Sure." He gave her a wink when a huge smile transformed her
face. He knew she was lying. A dream-like sensation rocked him when she glanced
back and winked at him.
"Oh my, that smell is heavenly," she said as she stepped in the
small café and took a whiff.
"Smells like pie," Logan said as he shut the door behind him.
"Apple…blackberry… or is that peach?"
"No, they’re scones." She sniffed again.
"Or maybe muffins or sugar cookies.
It’s hard to
tell."
"I don’t care what it is, we must order it."
They were greeted warmly by the owner and immediately seated. Amber thought
the room was romantic with its antique furnishing, elegant lace, vintage
linens, and richly scented air. Tiffany lamps and oversized comfy chairs were
positioned in little clusters around the room, creating intimate dining areas.
The thoughtfulness of Logan to think of bringing her here was remarkable.
His kindness was unsurpassed and she found him simply fascinating. Most men
wouldn’t come near a tea room.
"They have every type of tea you can think of," Logan said as he
regarded a delicate, lace napkin which he laid in his lap.
"I might have to experiment then." Amber looked over the menu
reading the descriptions of the different teas. "Their selection is
amazing. Look at this, they import from all over the world." She looked
up. "How did you find this place?"
"I emailed my sister last night and asked her if she had any
recommendations. Ironically, she had just read a piece on this place in a
magazine. I told her we’d check it out for her and report back."
"Thank you. This is very sweet of you."
"I thought you might like it." He paused then added.
"I’ve read in different books where smells and tastes can trigger
memories."
"So I guess there’s a reason I like tea."
He smiled at her. "Yes, there is."
"Good afternoon," the server said as she placed a dish of small
cookies between them and then took their order. "What can I get
you," she asked as she turned to Amber.
Amber glanced at the menu then said, "The artichoke mushroom quiche
and a cup of tea please."
Amber was excited when she was told she could pick out her own teacup in
which her black tea, flavored with currents, would be served in. Logan passed
on the tea but ordered four different tea sandwiches.
"Hungry?" Amber asked teasingly as the server walked away.
"They all sound so good I couldn’t decide. Besides,
they’re so small I could probably eat fifty of them."
"They’re meant for a light snack. I’m going to pick out my
cup" She bent across the table and kissed his cheek. "I’ll be
right back."
Logan watched her as she evaluated the assortment of cups and matching
saucers. Amber gestured to a set and smiled when the server pulled it out of
the glass case and presented it to her. It was amazing how he found contentment
just by watching her. He smiled to himself when she moved over to another
counter that held an array of desserts under different sized glass domes. She
spoke with the woman for a minute longer before she came back.
"They have chocolate dipped strawberries the size of baseballs. And
their truffles look sinful," she said as she took a seat.
"We should get some to-go.," Logan replied. "My family
would love them—especially Kevin. He loves any type of sweets."
"Good idea. Do you know they don’t even serve coffee
here?"
"What a shame."
"I think it’s great. Look around—there isn’t a
coffee snob to be found," she whispered as she broke a cookie in half and
nibbled on it.
"They’re all at Starbucks," he said dryly. "Are teas
snobs somehow better than coffee snobs?"
"Why of course." Her posture became erect and her English accent
was perfect when she spoke. "I am most certain everyone surly knows that
tea must be loose and never put into a bag. And, of course, it should always be
served in a porcelain cup at the proper temperature."
"I served you tea this morning that was in a bag and a ceramic
mug," he pointed out. "And I took absolutely no consideration for
the water. Boiling hot was the temperature I was looking for."
"And yet I didn’t complain," she said with the accent.
He kissed the back of her hand. "No, you didn’t."
"I guess my level of snobbery isn’t that excessive," she
giggled.
"Fortunately."
She kept his hand between hers. "I want to be serious for a moment."
"Okay," he said.
"You’ve said you’ve dreamt about me your entire
life."
He nodded.
"What does that exactly mean?" She fiddled with his fingers.
"I really don’t get it."
"I don’t know exactly when I knew you existed. I mean at what
approximate age. I’ve just always known you were there."
"But how did you know
who
I was?"
"Do you mean did I know your name was Amber Lewis, and that you had
dark hair, amazing blue eyes, and was going to be one of my employees? No, I
didn’t know any of that. I wasn’t looking for hair color, or an
age, or even a name. It goes much deeper than the physical appearance. You were
faceless and nameless. I wasn’t even sure you were American. I had hoped
we at least spoke the same language. How awkward would that have been if I had
met you and a language barrier prevented me from rationalization what was
happening between us?"
Logan was quiet as their food was brought to the table and Amber was served
her tea in her chosen teacup. He spoke when they were alone again. "You
were more of a feeling that I carried deep inside."
"Where did this feeling come from?"
"I believe from life times of loving you. This isn’t our first
encounter. We’ve had many."