“I don’t think we’re naive,” I say stubbornly.
“Your story is one in a million,” he tells me.
“It doesn’t
have
to be,” I point out. “Our story is only what it is because we made it that way. Besides, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there’s no such thing as the
real world
, Buddy.”
He laughs, and puts his hand on my arm, saying, “You might just be right about that. Especially considering that I hear we’re going to be siblings-in-law?”
I smile at him and nod eagerly. “And
I
hear
you
knew before I did.”
“Yes,” he admits with another laugh. “Logan couldn’t contain himself when we talked about it. I did
try
to point out how incredibly fast it all is,” he confesses, but then he shrugs, as though we’re a helpless cause. “He’s crazy about you, Gem. I don’t think anything can stop a man that’s that in love.”
His insights tickle me.
“Besides,” he continues, “when I saw you two together on Wednesday night, I got the sneaking suspicious that you guys are the real-deal. Like Rupert and MG. Did you come with them?” he adds, changing the topic.
“Uh, yes,” I nod, glancing into the crowd around us, looking for them. I don’t see them, but I
do
see Taylor. He’s staring at Buddy with contempt.
Jeez
, here we go again, Tantrum Taylor is back. In turn I stare at him, remembering what Logan told me on his birthday about Taylor telling him that he doesn’t deserve to be appreciated for anything.
Well
,
what about this gigantic room of supporters and well-wishers
,
you bastard
, I think gleefully.
He catches me watching him, blinks and then quickly looks away, but not before I’m able to tell that my friendliness with Buddy, whom Taylor clearly loathes, has just caused Taylor’s approval rating of me to go down even further. Taking a leaf out of Logan’s book I think,
fuck what he thinks of me
. I roll my eyes as I watch him disappear amongst the mass of people.
Following my line of sight, Buddy says, “Ah-ha! I knew it was only a matter of time before you joined Team Logan.”
Team Logan
? “I’m ever hopeful that this attitude will improve.” For Logan’s sake. “But in truth, I don’t hold out much hope.”
“You shouldn’t. When it comes to Taylor, hope is not enough,” Buddy says surely. “He’s a mother fucking asshole.”
“Are we talking about Jerry again?” my mother says, appearing at my side.
“No, someone else,” I say hastily. My attention is immediately diverted away from Taylor as I’m quick to notice a sudden glimmer in Buddy’s eyes as he takes in the sight of my mother. Oh, hell no! “Don’t
even
think about it!” I tell him clearly.
“Enchanté,” he addresses my mom, smoothly.
“
Buddy
,” I growl.
He starts laughing immediately. “Gem, you know I like older women,” he says to me.
Clearly aware that she’s being courted, my mother tells him, “Buddy, I presume?”
“Oui, and you must be Gemima’s older sister.”
I roll my eyes again.
Seriously
? Do these lines
actually
work for him?
“Nice try, kid, but I’ve just been warned about your womanising ways. Mary-Gene told me to expect an advance from you.”
“She’s a perceptive woman,” Buddy compliments his pseudo-mother.
“That she is,” my mom agrees. “So am I, and I can tell you right now, you’re going to have to dip your quill in somebody else’s ink pot.”
“I like a challenge,” he smiles at her.
OK, time for an intervention. “Mom, go hang out with Mary-Gene, or find the bar,” I suggest. “And Buddy,” I spin him around and push him into the crowd, following him saying, “you and I are going to find Logan.”
“You’re a killjoy, Gemima,” Buddy chuckles.
“I will joyfully kill you if you sleep with my mother!” I tell him.
Submerged in the masses it’s hard to look further than a few feet ahead of me, at least at my height, but Buddy, who’s taller than most we pass, seems to know where we’re going, and sure enough we break through the crowd and stumble upon Logan and several of his work colleagues whom I met last Tuesday, plus a few new faces.
Sneaking up behind him, Buddy wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, hugging him from behind, and in a high, shrill voice, he says, “It’s me, Gemima.”
The circle of people erupts into laughter, and I can’t help but join them.
“I do
not
sound like that,” I laugh, walking over to Logan’s side once Buddy has let him go. Logan and I smile at each other, and immediately it’s there again — that amorous spark. I revel in how everything inside of our bubble is exactly the same. Becoming engaged hasn’t changed anything between us, and I don’t want it to. I don’t suddenly feel bridezilla stirring within me, nor do I get possessed with jealousy as I notice in my peripheral vision a few women ogling him as they walk by. Everything’s the same, it’s just he and I. Neither of us makes a sound while the others continue laughing and jeering our
gooey eyes
for one another. I reach up to kiss him amidst a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls, which makes both Logan and I laugh again.
Then turning the attention off of us, I tell the group at large, “I brought Buddy over here for a timeout. He was attempting to seduce my mother.”
My words do the trick, the heat turns to Buddy instead who immediately starts animatedly defending his actions.
While he does so, I whisper to Logan, “Are you having fun?”
“Yes,” he smiles again, “I’m having a great time. Even
with
Taylor telling my Japanese business partners that I miscalculated the weight bearings on the buildings that I’ve currently got under construction in Osaka,” he sighs.
I mouth drops open. “He
what
?”
“He said he was trying to joke with them but that they took his words too literally.”
“He was causing trouble, more like,” I mutter, saying my thoughts out loud.
Logan nods. “My patience is wearing thin. I won’t let him spoil tonight for anyone.”
“Oh, Logan, we shouldn’t be too hard on him,” I then say sarcastically, “tonight will be torture for the poor man.”
“That’s
exactly
what I’m going to make it for him if he keeps being a dick,” Logan says seriously.
It’s clear that despite the good time Logan’s having, Taylor has already managed to dent it. Intent on putting a smile back onto his face, I ask Logan, “Can I be your henchman when you do?”
He cracks up, chuckling at the thought, his mood lightened once more.
Job done
, I think satisfactorily.
“Did those men from Osaka come all the way just for tonight?” I wonder.
He nods. “They take business relations very seriously,” he explains.
“So do I, Logan, but I wouldn’t fly twelve hours for a party,” I laugh. “It’s amazing that people are so responsive to you,” I muse out loud. “I think I’m going to go and mingle some more, and you know, boast about being your fi—“ I stop myself from saying fiancé, “Your girlfriend,” I amend. And that’s exactly what I do.
My first port of call is the bar — one simply cannot mingle without a drink in hand, I tell myself, and then I immerse myself into the splendour, greeting people, having people greet me, joining existing conversations, or starting up my own. It’s a busy, whirlwind of a half an hour, consisting of me trying desperately to remember which face goes with which name.
I cross paths with a
lot
of men and women who work at Leary Constructions, and who I have the distinct feeling know that I’m their boss’s partner. I get the sense they’re prying, harmlessly, into a side of Logan’s life that he usually keeps entirely private from them. I’m polite and courteous to everyone I meet, and in the back of my mind I cannot help thinking how much more comfortable I am to be known as Logan’s significant other than I ever was being known as Jerry’s.
After a while, I need a breather from the centre of the throng, and I find myself naturally migrating to the side of the room. Spotting Amélie, I begin to walk towards her intending on having a Buddy-free conversation. However, as I approach her I notice that the wall she’s lingering near is covered in project posters and descriptions of Logan’s work, and when I look up and down the length of the room, I notice they line the entire wall. It’s a timeline of his career.
I stop in my tracks. Suddenly speaking with Amélie seems less inviting. I turn subtly and redirect myself to the top corner of the room instead, where Logan’s prestigious timeline begins.
I take my time walking along the wall. To say that Logan started small would be wrong; it appears his initial projects were grand-scale and ambitious, and I discover that they’ve gotten even grander as time’s gone by. He is a true master of his trade, there is no doubt about it. I read every article that corresponds with the myriad of pictures, in many of which he can be seen, and I squeal in delight when I stumble across one of him as a twenty-year-old. He’s baby-faced and gorgeous, and I simply must have a copy of that photo! I take out my phone to take a picture of it, only realising after I have that the young, lanky man he’s standing next to is Buddy. It must have been taken shortly after they met, I think.
As I walk, I find several more photographs which I make copies of, ones where he looks bone tired from striving so hard to make himself a success.
It paid off
, I smile to myself. And ones in which he starts to look less baby-faced and more manly, closer to how he looks today.
I pass other people walking up and down the wall, including Michel and his wife, Elaine. I abruptly realise that as second-in-command of Leary Constructions this wall-of-fame is equally a tribute to him as it is to Logan. We stop for a brief conversation, during which he talks me through one of the most difficult projects of their joint careers, before they keep walking north, doing the timeline backwards, and I kept walking south.
I beam at the photographs of the very last project on display. It’s
my
hotel — Hotel Forty-Nine — standing imperially tall in the very heart of Tokyo. I scan every photo very closely, knowing that it was constructed long before it was ever named for me, yet I find myself wanting to be familiar with it. It’s high-end, it’s luxurious, it’s an oriental treasure trove.
“You beat me to it,” I hear Logan saying behind me.
I turn, smile at him, and wrap my arms around his middle, hugging him tightly.
“I was supposed to show you this,” he says, hugging me back.
“I love it, Logan,” I say, meaning it entirely. “
She
is utterly magnificent and I’m even more honoured now to know she was named for me,” I tell him. “This whole timeline is mind-blowing.” I reach up to cup his face in my hands, and gazing into his pale-green eyes, I say, “I know I wasn’t there for, like,
any
of these builds, and so it might not mean anything, but I’m so proud of you, Logan. So,
so
proud,” I gush.
My words make him light-up. “That means everything, baby,” he says earnestly, brushing his lips against mine. Then humour overcomes him, as he says, “I can’t believe I told you that I didn’t want you to come tonight.” He laughs at his own mistake. “There’s no one else who matters more than you.”
I smile once more, and repeat the words that he said to me one week ago. “Temporary madness, baby, it happens to the best of us.”
He chuckles, looking so breathtakingly beautiful that I can’t hold myself back. I slide my hands over his shoulders and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him headily.
When we break apart a few delicious moments later, we remain face to face, Logan’s arms wrapped tightly around my back, and I giggle against his lips, “I found some adorable pictures of you on this timeline. I think I’ll make one of them my new screensaver,” I tease.
“Just wait until we get to Charleston,” he chuckles. “My mom has the whole house decorated with photos of me.”
“I can’t
wait
to see them, Logan, I can’t wait to see where you’re from. I saw Mercy earlier and she told me that your mom said we’re going to Charleston
this
summer,” I grin.
Logan shakes his head. “I have plans to get married this summer.”
His words derail my thoughts entirely. He looks so overjoyed by them.
“Mercy, uh, also said…” I begin, but I falter.
What else did she say
, I try to recall.
“Yes?” Logan smiles against my lips. He knows his effect on me, he knows I’m temporarily speechless, and so he uses this moment of silence to kiss me once more, his hands running up and down my back in a sweet caress.
This time when we break apart I’m even more breathless, though fortunately my ability for speech has returned to me. “She said she’d look after Samuel whenever we do go to Charleston. In fact, she was
insistent
on it.”
“I see,” Logan smiles. “I haven’t found her yet,” he says, turning to observe the room.
I turn to look into the room as well, and find a sight quite different to what I expected. While I was engrossed with the timeline and then with Logan, almost everybody else has taken their seat around the pristine-looking tables, and my stomach lurches uncomfortably when I see that
many
pairs of eyes are angled towards us.
“People are watching us,” I murmur quietly, as though everyone in the room might suddenly be able to hear me.
Don’t be silly
,
Gem
.
“That’s because you look stunning, Gemima,” Logan smiles at me, enjoying the flush that comes over my cheeks. “Come,” he takes my hand and leads the way to a table at the very front of the room, around which his family, my mother, and a few key personnel of Leary Constructions are seated.
Trying my best to ignore the eyeballs that follow us as we walk, I instead focus my attention on the back corner of the room where waiters are lingering in a doorway, which I presume leads to the kitchen.
“Dinner and then speeches?” I ask Logan.
“The other way around,” he says, holding out my chair for me to sink into.
We immerse ourselves in the varying conversations around the table, until a tapping sound issues through the loud speakers throughout the room a few minutes later, and a hush descends over everyone.