Authors: Aris Whittier
"You didn’t tell me you were my boss."
He angled his head and watched her. "Does it really matter that I happen
to own the restaurant you work for?"
"Yes, it does."
"It shouldn’t."
"Don’t say it like that." The intense gleam in her eyes
slowly faded. "You make me sound shallow and I’m not
shallow."
"I know you’re not."
"What happened back there? What were you doing?"
"I was doing nothing more than enjoying you."
She shook her head unable to believe it was that simple.
"Yes, I was.
Everything about you."
He
stepped closer to her. "My biggest fear was you’d disappear right
before me."
She shook her head again.
"Why don’t you want to believe that?"
Amber studied him quietly as uncertainty sat in her chest, heavy and
pressing. "I don’t know what to believe. I don’t even know
what to think about you." She said the words so softly they were almost
carried off by the wind before they reached Logan’s ears.
"And you think this is easy for me?"
"Is it?" she asked in an emotion-chocked voice.
"God, no," he murmured. "Amber, I didn’t ask you to
join me because you work for me. I could care less who you work for. I asked
you to join me because I’m interested in you. It couldn’t be any
simpler than that."
Completely captivated by the intimate look in his eyes and the undeniable
sincerity in his voice, Amber said, "I’m confused."
"There’s no reason to be. I’ll tell you anything you want
to know. All you have to do is ask."
God, she hoped he was being honest with her. She prided herself on being
able to read a person by their first impression. Her first impression of him
was that he was not only kind but sincere, too. "Then everything that
happened tonight was just a twist of fate? You just happened to stumble across
me while dining at one of your restaurants."
"No."
That wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. "Are you stalking
me?"
He laughed a hearty robust laugh that caused his head to fall back.
Amber’s eyes narrowed as she watched him. "I’ll take that
as a no." She pushed at his shoulder. "Stop laughing or I’ll
be forced to take offense."
"Please don’t take offence. I’ve been called many things,
stalker never being one of them."
He was looking down at her with amusement and she felt a little ridiculous
for having gotten so mad. Actually, the anger which had consumed her minutes
ago was nearly nonexistent. She didn’t want to be angry at him—deep
down she felt like she couldn’t. "Will you please tell me
what’s going on?"
"Of course."
"Before I decide that you’re a total jerk I’d like to hear
your side of the story."
"Yes, from where you’re standing I’m not looking that
good, am I?"
She shook her head.
"I will tell you everything. But not here on the street." He
took her by the arm. "Do you drink coffee?"
"No, but I do drink tea."
"There’s a place about a block down that’s open all night.
I’m sure they have tea." They started to walk and then he stopped
her. Turning he said, "Smile, everything’s fine." His thumb
traced over her lips. "That’s better. So you think I’m
good-looking?"
The café was small and to Logan’s relief mostly empty. A large
glass case, which greeted them the minute they walked in, held a display of
irresistible pastries in all shapes and sizes. "Would you like something
to eat," he asked.
Amber glanced at the tarts, mousses, cakes, and pies. "Tempting but,
no thank you, just some chai tea please."
After Logan ordered a cup of tea and a black coffee for himself, he gestured
to a small table that was positioned away from the front door and the main
counter. Their conversation would not be casual in nature so he wanted privacy
with no distractions. He knew that’s what they would both need to get
through this. He wasn’t quite sure how much he would share with her at
the moment, but he was going to have to be honest with her regardless of what
questions she might ask. He could only hope he wouldn’t scare her off
with his honesty.
When you walked away it felt like you were taking a piece of me with you.
Those words would be his safety anchor. When he felt her drifting, he would
know deep down she felt a connection between them. If there was a connection he
knew he would be able to help her remember.
No matter how awkward their conversation got or how tongue-tied he might
become as he explained their situation, he was certain he would be able to get
her to understand. His confidence grew a little at the notion.
Holding the chair, he waited for Amber to sit before taking his own seat. He
watched her from across the table for a brief moment. She had settled down a
little. However, by her expression he could tell she was anxiously waiting an
explanation.
"Would you like to wait for our drinks?" He offered.
She shook her head. "No."
"Several weeks ago I was driving through town and I saw you. I
literally came within inches of rear-ending the car in front of me. I watched
you until you disappeared into my restaurant."
She watched him closely for a long moment.
"Seriously?"
Logan nodded.
"You just happened to be driving by?" she asked as she fingered
the gold hoop at her ear.
"Yes." He found her eyes and held them. "That connection
we felt in the restaurant, I felt it when I saw you. It hit me so hard that I
sat in the middle of the street for a full minute before I realized horns were
honking and people were staring and cussing at me."
She shook her head. "How is that possible? How can a complete stranger
on the side of the street make you feel that way?"
"Fate," he offered.
"Fate?" she repeated with a laugh. "It doesn’t work
that way, Logan," she said reasonably.
"Why not?"
She lifted her shoulders.
"Because that only happens
in chick flicks and romance novels."
He smiled at her assumption.
"I’m serious."
"I know you are. Did you not feel it when you first saw me?"
"Yes, I did."
"And you still feel it right now?"
She nodded. "You know I do."
"This isn’t fiction, Amber. This is real and that’s why I
had to find out who you were." He shrugged. "I knew right then I
had to meet you."
Logan was quiet as a young man with several piercings in his eyebrow, lip,
and nose, brought Amber’s tea and his coffee. When the spiked-haired
server left he continued, "I could tell by the way you were dressed that
you worked at
The Pavilion
."
"Why didn’t you just come in then? I don’t understand why
you waited." She lifted her tea, looked at him over the rim, and then
took a sip.
"To be honest, I was a little overwhelmed at what I was
feeling." He reached for a packet of sugar and shook it. He had searched
for her his entire life and though she had been right in front of him he knew
it wasn’t as simple as walking up to her and introducing himself.
"I wasn’t so sure I could meet you just yet. I needed some time. As
you can clearly see this isn’t easy."
"So what you’re telling me is you simply waited a few weeks and
then decided to come to the restaurant and meet me?"
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean not exactly?"
He took a steady breath. "That evening, after I saw you, I did what I
thought was the next best thing to actually meeting you. I had Mr. Hendricks
fax your file to me."
"Excuse me?" She almost choked on the warm liquid that awkwardly
made its way down her throat.
"As your employer, it’s legal," he said quickly when he
saw her eyes turn cool. And the background check he’d done was lawful
too, but he wouldn’t divulge that unless he had to. "I assure you
I’m completely authorized to—"
"It’s not the legality that I question," she said as she
set her tea down.
"How about moral?"
"Morally I felt I didn’t have a choice because I knew meeting
you could very well change my life. Furthermore, I wasn’t deliberately
keeping who I was from you. My intentions were only to get to know you. I swear
to you there was nothing more." He continued on struggling to find the
right words. "Maybe on a subconscious level I didn’t want you to
know who I was. But that was only because I didn’t want you to hold
back."
Under her breath she said softly, "I wouldn’t have held
back."
"I didn’t know that." He paused. "I was thankful
when you didn’t recognize my name. You have to understand sometimes when
women meet me their intentions are influenced by my wealth. More often than
not, they are more interested in what I have in the bank than me."
"So you wanted to talk first—to insure I was interested in you
and not your money?"
"I wanted to see if there was a connection. Amber, I
had
to
know. And then when you first looked at me and I knew you felt it
too—"
"I thought you were someone famous," she said indifferently.
"You didn’t know what to think.
Which is
exactly how I felt when I first saw you on the street.
" He
searched her eyes. "Tell me I’m wrong?"
With her elbows propped on the table, she dropped her head in her hands,
covered her eyes and sighed.
"You can’t tell me, can you? You know I’m right.
You’re just as curious as I am." He reached for her fingers and
pulled them away. "We’ve come too far to deny this."
"I’m not denying it," she said looking at him.
"I’m just trying to understand."
"How do you understand something that is beyond words? I can’t
explain it though I’m trying desperately to." He stopped,
contemplated, and then took a slow drink of his coffee. "You don’t
understand it. You just go with it."
"That’s what I was doing back at the restaurant until it all
fell apart."
"Nothing has fallen apart. We just had a misunderstanding."
"Did you set me up? Did Mr. Hendricks know you were coming? Did you
plan this whole evening?"
"No. I knew you were working—that was it. Beyond that I had no
idea how things would play out. Mr. Hendricks is privy to nothing other than my
request for your file. I chose tonight simply because I couldn’t wait any
longer. "
"One more question."
"Anything.
What is it?"
"Have you done this with any of your other employees?"
He shook his head. "I’ve never done this with anyone. No one has
ever made me feel like this."
"Don’t look at me like I should be flattered," she said as
she reached for her tea.
A smile crept across his lips. "You should be."
"You’re too confident."
"No one can ever be too confident. But it’s not confidence that
compels me. It’s an understanding that I was supposed to meet you."
For several moments he remained silent. "Can we please start over?
I’d like to pick up where we left off at the restaurant. Could we do
that?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Do you own this café?"
He shook his head enjoying her humor. He had been forgiven. "No.
However, I did have the chance to buy it but I turned it down."
"You’re serious?"
"Yes."
She shook her head and laughed.
And once again they were lost in deep conversation—talking about each
other’s lives like they had been doing it for years. The feeling was of
old, intimate friends who regularly sat down with each other and caught up on
lost time.
They spoke openly and truthfully and encouraged each other to share their
interests and feelings. Pleasure and understanding were conveyed through words,
light touches, and soft smiles. All the previous anger was forgotten. There was
no room for it now. They each knew they would never be able to stay angry at
the other. It just wasn’t in them.
It amazed Amber how intimate and honest their conversation was. She had
never spoken this deeply with anyone, not even her girlfriends. She found her
eyes drawn to his. They were deep and kind. There was a reason why eyes were
called the window to the soul and she was looking at it. Spots and blemishes
marred most people’s eyes, but not Logan’s. The fascinating blue
was surprisingly clear and held profound meaning. Behind his handsome and charismatic
presence was a man who was exuding with perception and she wanted nothing more
than to discover everything about him.
"What are you thinking?" Logan asked softly.
"Am I that readable?" Her gaze never left his face.
"No, but you look very serious."
"It’s your eyes."
"What about them?"
"I’ve seen them before." She smiled shyly as she
clarified. "I mean they’re full of understanding and wisdom and
I’ve only seen that in one other person."
"Who?"
"My sister, Heather."
Logan reached for his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and tossed some
money on the table. "Will you tell me about Heather as we walk on the
beach?"
"I’d love to."
He took her hand in his as he held open the door and they stepped outside.
The night was cool and quiet and they were completely alone as they left the
coffee shop and walked past darkened stores and empty rows of parking spaces
crowned with tall, skinny meters. Bougainvillea grew in bursts of color arching
over awnings and covering entire buildings in vibrant blankets of pink and
green. It blended beautifully with the endless containers of perennials
flanking business doors and window boxes.
The fresh breeze caused the tall, ornamental trees to rustle noisily around
them while the towering palms, which ran alongside the beach, fluttered
constantly as the fronds caught the wind.
Logan leaned into Amber appreciating how the atmosphere seemed to mimic the
profound connection they were experiencing. He’d kept her hand in his
enjoying the way her fingers linked tightly with his and how perfectly they
felt joined. The grip was warm and he’d waited a long time to be able to
hold her hand like this. For him, the small contact felt like an intimate act
even though most wouldn’t consider it intimacy at all.
They walked quietly like this for several blocks. As the sidewalk ended and
turned into sand, they stopped. Releasing her fingers, Logan casually
unbuttoned his coat and helped her into it. Gently, he pulled the oversized
garment around her as his hands and his eyes lingered for a long moment.
"Thank you," Amber said looking up at him.
He fidgeted with a button for a second before he gave up and took a step
back. "Warm enough?"
She smiled sweetly. "Yes."
Glancing down at the beach he asked, "Do you want to walk or do you
want to sit?"
"It’s such a nice evening let’s walk for a little
while."
Removing their shoes and their socks they walked toward the water. The moon
was high and full and it not only provided the perfect light to walk in but
also to see each other. They exchanged a few brief glances, each aware of the
fact that they were about to travel down a road that would forever change both
of their lives. Logan knew without a doubt that she was the woman he had spent
his life dreaming and waiting for and Amber knew that he was the man that
she’d always hoped existed.
"Will you tell me about your sister who shares my eyes," Logan
asked as he guided her away from the surge that threatened to consume their
legs.
"Heather was a special person," she said as she looked down at
the water, which swirled around her feet. "She died last year from
cancer. She was only twenty-eight."
"I’m sorry."
"Me too.
I miss her."
Logan lifted his head into the wind, his hair ruffling against his brow as
he stared at the moonlight bouncing off the water. "What made Heather so
special?"
"I had a feeling you’d ask that. I like that about you. You
catch everything."
He only smiled at her.
"So many different things made her special. To me, she seemed larger
than life. When I was younger I thought it was because she was my big sister
but now I know it was just part of who she was. She was clever and witty.
She’d never met a person she didn’t like." Her words trailed
off and then said. "But there was something else that made her truly
unique."
"Yeah, and what was that?"
"Throughout her entire life she was never afraid. I know that sounds
silly, but it was amazing. It made life so incredible for her because nothing
inhibited her." She looked up gazing at the miles of beach before them.
"She
skydived,
bungee
jumped
,
and had two tattoos." Her voice became amused. "She even entered a
wet tee-shirt contest one summer when we were on spring break." The last
proclamation sounded like it was the most scandalous thing Amber could imagine.
"She was unconstrained," Logan said.
"She sure was. I was so envious of her unstructured and spontaneous
ways."
"Why?"
"I’m the cautious type," she said frankly. "I never
take risks because I constantly fear what might happen if I do."
He looked over at her. "What might happen if you fail?" he
confirmed.
"Yeah.
I avoid so much purely because
I’m afraid to fail, but not Heather. She wasn’t afraid of anything,
not even failure." Amber stared thoughtfully at the waves rolling in and
out. "She didn’t take heedless chances but she lived life to the
fullest. She lived, learned, and loved passionately and never feared the result
of doing so." She stopped and then turned to him. "Imagine going
through life never fearing anything. No matter what happens there’s never
a need to worry."
"Do you believe there should be consequences for having such
freedom?"
"Not necessarily. But I do feel that fear plays an important role in
our lives. It keeps us safe and alert."
"I think it keeps us numb."
She looked at him.
"You can’t live to your fullest potential when fear is
distracting you," he explained.
"So, fear is just a distraction?" she asked.
"Nothing more.
It restricts your ability to
live."
When she saw the look cross Logan’s face she stopped because her heart
stumbled in her chest and it took a few beats to find its rhythm again.
"You don’t have to imagine, do you?" she asked softly as she
touched the hair on his forehead, brushing it back lightly with her fingers as
the wind picked it up and carried it in a different direction.
"That’s what I see in your eyes. Just like Heather, you have this
understanding about the world that no one else has."
He watched her quietly.
"Is that why you’re so familiar to me?" She cocked her
head. "I see something in your eyes I’ve seen before."
"Possibly."
She looked at him with a grateful smile as the wind danced across the
surface of the ocean and swirled around them. She pulled his coat tighter as
goosebumps spread over her body. "Do you know what she told me when she was
diagnosed?"
"What’s that?"
"She looked me straight in the eyes and said ‘well, what do you
know, I have cancer.’ I wanted to fall apart and she handled it like
she’d just been told it was going to be cloudy and in the seventies on
Friday."
"That’s living without fear," he said with a gentle smile.
"She sounds amazing."
"She was."
Hand in hand they started walking again.
"May I ask a very personal question?" Logan asked.
"Sure."
"How did Heather handle death?" After a moment of silence, he
tried to clarify. "I mean—"
"I know what you mean. Keeping true to herself, she handled it like it
was no big deal. She never once feared it.
Never.
That’s what made her so special. She embraced anything and everything
that was tossed her way.
Even death.
I have absolutely
no idea how she did it but she pulled it off with grace and dignity."
"Were you there when she died?"
Amber nodded. "She passed away in our apartment in her bed. It was
right where she wanted to be. No hospitals."
Gently, he squeezed her fingers and look at her. "I’m sorry
I’ve asked so many questions. You don’t have to talk about it if
you don’t want to," he said sincerely.
"I do. I like talking about her, remembering her." She was quiet
for a while as Logan’s fingers moved back and forth over her knuckles.
"I don’t really talk about Heather much."
"Why?"
"Because people don’t understand."
"What don’t they understand?"
"What it was like.
The whole experience."
"You mean death."
"Yes, I watched her die." Once again Amber was quiet as she remembered
her time with her sister and the last few days of her life. "When Heather
was almost gone she took my hand in hers and said in the sweetest voice
I’ve ever heard, ‘it is what it is and its okay. I’ll be
okay, you’ll be okay, and the world will keep turning’. " She
shook her head. "The words were so simple but also powerful."
"She’s right."
"Yes, I know. I understood what she was saying, however most people
don’t."
"No, they don’t do
they
?"
She stared out into the vast darkness of the ocean. "Tell me something
Logan, how does one find that kind of understanding? How does a person find
that unconditional acceptance that you have and Heather had?"
"I think you’re born with it."
She looked over at him. "Were you?"
"I believe I was."
"It must be nice. I would give anything to have that inner peace that
Heather had and you so obviously have." She gave a half-hearted laugh.
"It would sure make my life easier."
"Is your life hard?"
"Right now financially it is. When Heather became sick I missed a lot
of work. And the last month she was alive I stayed home with her." She
raised her shoulders and then let them fall. "She told me that it
wasn’t necessary but I couldn’t bring myself to leave her side. It
didn’t matter that the wolf was knocking at the door. I wanted to be with
her. I was all she had. Now, I’m trying to work my way out of that
debt."
"You were a good sister."
Her eyes filled with appreciation as she glanced over at him. "I tried
to be."
Logan looked over at the ridge of sand bluffs where patches of dry, lanky
grass swayed in the wind. He knew the tides came close to them but they never
reached it. The low ridge would block some of the wind and give them a little
privacy. "We’ve been walking for awhile. Would you like to
sit?"
"Sure."
"It’s dry over there," he pointed.
Tossing their shoes and socks in a pile, they found a comfortable spot on
the mound of sand. Quietly, they looked out at the dark water, watching the
waves, and feeling the moist air on their faces. At that moment the rest of the
world just disappeared. The bluff which was situated between cliffs and the
ocean created their own private refuge where no one existed.
When Logan pulled Amber into his arms she immediately sagged against him
like he had held her a million times before. "Thank you for taking this
risk."
She knew what he meant and didn’t pretend otherwise. "I
don’t feel like it’s a risk."
"That’s good to hear."
"This is different, Logan."
"I know it is."
He held her quietly for a moment, content to feel her so close. A deep flow
of happiness consumed him as he felt the warmth of her body next to his.
Although she couldn’t see him, he closed his eyes and just took her in.
He had waited so long to touch her—to have her close to him.
"Do you think you’ll ever see Heather again?" he asked
after several long minutes of silence.
"Of course I will."
"You sound very sure of that."
"I am. She told me I would." She dug her toes into the warm sand
as she allowed her head to snuggle into his solid frame. "But she
didn’t have to tell me, I already knew." She thought for a moment.
"You know how sometimes you just know something." When he nodded
she continued. "That’s how it is for me. I just know I’ll see
her again."
"You will," he said softly against the top of her head.
"You sound pretty confident as well." She draped her arms over
his and casually ran her fingers over the soft hair. "Not many people
would understand that either."
He simply couldn’t help himself. He pressed his lips against her hair
and closed his eyes for the longest moment.
Again they lost track of time as they talked and shared both intimate and
mundane things. They laughed, cuddled, became quiet, and then started talking
again. It wasn’t until the sun started to rise that they realized today
had turned into yesterday and tomorrow was already here.
Around two in the morning, Logan had had Amber lay down to rest her head in
his lap. It had been a long day and he could tell she was tired. Her eyes had
grown heavy and her voice had faded, but nonetheless she had kept talking and
sharing with him. Neither wanted what they were experiencing to end just yet.
Logan had found it amazing to look down at her and see her resting so
comfortably against him. Her legs were curled up tightly and her hands were
tucked under her head, resting on his thigh. By four, their conversation had
dwindled and the endless roar of the ocean had lulled her into a light sleep.
He had spent the next few hours just watching her.
In the breezy darkness, an incommunicable sensation had swept through him.
He would have thought that it was indescribable but as it settled he realized
what he was feeling was the yearning that he’d carried for so long lift.
This was what he had waited to feel. This moment was what he’d searched
for his entire life.
When she had come to him when they were kids he had never thought about
needing to hold her and feel her next to him. He had been content just knowing
she was there. By the time he was a young man and he began to dream of her he
wanted desperately to touch her—to feel his fingers against her skin, but
the dreams had only allowed him to experience her emotionally, not physically.
At times he thought he’d die from the agony of not being able to touch
her.
"You awake?" he whispered as he cradled her in his arms,
stroking her windswept hair softly away from her face. It was immediately blown
back again but he found the never-ending task enjoyable.
"Kind of," she said in a sleepy voice without opening her eyes.
"I’ve never slept on the beach before. It’s wonderful."
She snuggled against his legs.
He smiled down at her.
"I didn’t realized how soothing the wind and waves could be.
They put me to sleep."
"Perhaps it was my conversation."
She smiled.
He ran his hand from her shoulder down the length of her arm, realizing just
how thin his coat was. "Are you cold?" When she shook her head he
asked, "Are you hungry?"