“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Actually, meet me in the study. There’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t want to do it here. Just give me a minute.” Before Callie could say anything, Logan turned and walked off the dance floor. As she stood there, wondering what had just happened, the band started the next song, a swing tune. Even more people flooded onto the dance floor, crowding Logan out of sight.
Callie tried to follow behind him. She made it about five steps before stopping. She couldn’t believe what she saw: Veronica Jones leaning against the wall, grinning. Callie rushed over to her and nearly lunged at her. “What the hell did you do?” she shouted.
“I haven’t done anything,” she said, “yet.”
“I don’t know what you think you’re accomplishing by being here, but I promise you, if try to do anything to Logan, I will make it my mission in life to make you miserable.”
“Ooh, I’m shaking in my Louboutins,” Veronica said. She rolled her eyes and yawned.
“You’re lucky I have somewhere to be,” Callie said.
“Hopefully it’s far away from here,” Veronica replied.
Callie shook her head, pushed through the crowd and headed to the hall. She didn’t want to waste another minute on Veronica. Once she was outside the ballroom, everything would be better. She pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped out into the hallway. It was cooler in the hallway and quieter too. The muffled sounds of the band still echoed, but the front of the house, and the hallway to the study, were dark and still. Callie’s heels clacked on the floor as she headed into the darkness. She slid her hand along the wood panelling to find the entrance to the study. Once she found it, she held her breath and opened the hidden door. She looked back down the hall one more time and let herself inside.
The room was dark, save for the small pool of light that shone from a lamp on Hank’s desk. The dim pool of light accentuated the shadows on the bookcases and in the far corners of the room. “Logan?” Callie called. “Logan, where are you?” She looked around, hoping that he’d be in one of those corners or sitting in a chair, but it was useless. He wasn’t there. She looked around the room for any sign of him, but there was nothing. Where the hell was he? She walked over and sat down behind the large, mahogany desk.
In the middle of the desk, under the warm light of the lamp, sat a plain white envelope, addressed simply, “Callie.” She reached forward and tore it open, ripping a corner off the letter in the process. She unfolded the paper and started to read. I don’t know how to say this… A chill ran through Callie’s body as she read the rest of the letter. Logan was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.
***
He hadn’t planned on coming back to the bar, but like a homing pigeon who could fly thousands of miles home, he had instinctually headed there. The great open space of the dining room was quiet and empty, and he didn’t bother to turn on any lights but the one behind the bar. She loved him. She loved him, and he had run. Deep down, he had known how she felt, but hearing her say it was something different entirely.
It was better that he had left instead of explaining things. More fitting. She’d hate him for what he did and move on with her life to spite him. At least she’d have closure. Her anger at him would probably motivate her to new professional highs, while he could lapse back into the prodigal son everyone else expected him to be. Logan knew this was what had to happen, and yet a small part of him wanted to find and run off with her.
Maybe that’s why he left the front door to the brewery unlocked. Maybe it was why he wasn’t surprised when the door opened, and Callie stepped inside glaring at him from across the room. He looked at her one more time in her long black dress. Her hair was still up, and every last detail of her makeup was perfect. She looked beautiful.
Something about that moment reminded Logan of the first time he saw her, not the afternoon at his father's mansion, but nearly a year earlier, when he had been at her sister's wedding. For a moment, he thought he had dreamt her up, that there was no way she could be real, but she was. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of her, but when he found out who she was, he knew better to keep his distance. Logan laughed to himself. Apparently his first impulse had been right.
But that was in the past, a pleasant memory. Logan hung his head over his drink again, watching his reflection warp in the glass. He knew that had to do was start a fight and get her to leave. It was for the best. Soon enough, Veronica would leak the tape to the press, and Logan's life would be turned upside down. He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't let her throw away her life and join him in his downward spiral just because he liked her. A fake fight. That was all he had to do. How hard could it be?