Scott said goodnight, and I left to get ready for bed then, too. Wearing silk pajama shorts, a tank top, and no gloves, I came back out into the living room a half-hour later. Logan lit his cigar the moment I sat down beside him on the couch. Despite how action-oriented he was, he favored habit over spontaneity when it came to anything remotely sentimental, and our nightly solace ritual was as close to sentimental as Logan went. That was partly why it caught me so off guard when he broke with tradition and handed me a beer.
“You thought about it yet?” he asked, popping off my tab.
“Huh?”
“The thing. The job. You thought about it?”
“Uh, not really.”
“Hm.” He set his drink down and picked a wrapped package off the night stand. “I found this in the bottom of my bag. Forgot to give it to you.”
Knowing from the abysmal wrapping job that it wasn’t from Logan, I had some idea of the contents before I finished opening it. I smiled. Just as I’d thought. “‘Rogue’s Mix 3,’ delightful.” I skimmed Flea’s note, rolling my eyes at what he’d written. “What a suck-up Mr. Travis Ryan has become.”
“Boy tracked me down especially to give you it. Looks like you got an admirer,” Logan said.
Liking his tone a lot, I smirked, “The ‘boy’ is eighteen now. But, please, no. Not an admirer. And, even if he was, I don’t like ’em young.”
Too close to home. Logan brushed it off with just a, “Hm,” and another sip of beer, but definitely still a little tetchy about the age thing. How retrogressive.
Setting the CD on top of the blanket, I explained, “I bet he’s trying to get me to babysit him and his friends at this mutant battle of the bands. The Professor said they couldn’t enter without supervision. I’m letting him suffer a little before I agree. Seems only fitting.”
“Taking out your frustration at having to live with Scotty-boy?”
“I like living with Scotty-boy. Haven’t you noticed?” I sipped my beer. “I like it here in general,” I admitted. “I like…Where I’m at. I like where we’re at. But…I mean,” I shrugged. “It could be fun. You and me, doing the superhero thing. If that’s what you want.”
Logan flicked a glance my way. “You’d do anything for me.”
It wasn’t quite a question, but I answered anyway. “Yeah.”
“I’d do the same for you.”
“I know that.” God, I loved to hear it, though.
He gave his cigar a thoughtful roll. “I don’t want to you be unhappy.”
“Logan, I wouldn’t take the job if I thought it would make either of us miserable.”
“I think you’d like it. Lots of travel, lots of variety. Xavier’s already got a mission in mind – mutant girl on trial in Saudi Arabia.”
I perked up considerably. “Saudi Arabia? No kidding? Like, a real, live rescue and everything?”
“Yeah, what’d you think? I’d agree to a bunch of sit-downs in the suburbs? We’ll get the high-intensity cases. Not all of them will be international, but it involves a lot of quick travel. That means the X-Jet, and I’m no pilot. I need a partner who can handle her.”
A slow, wide grin broke out onto my face. “I don’t have an updated resume on me, but I can promise you with full confidence that I’d be the best partner you could ever hope for.”
“A never doubted it,” he said.
And that was that.
The following day, I put in my resignation, effective as of the morning after the fundraiser dinner. The head of personnel tried to refuse it on the grounds that she couldn’t hire another secretary in such short notice, but the Professor was one step ahead of him. Jackie Mueller, McKenna’s previous secretary, reappeared back at work that very afternoon with a healthy tan and an efficiently chipper attitude. For all my hard work, I got a handshake from President McKenna and an impromptu cake after lunch. Bureaucracy.
Two days later, as we were wrapping up the final touches on the security at Willard Intercontinental Washington Hotel, Stephanie came out from the ballroom just glowing. “God, this week has been terrific. We’re talking multiple nods of approval coming my way. The only thing ruining my promotion-high is you leaving me. Swing night won’t be the same.”
“Just think of the raise.”
“Ah, the raise,” she basked. “Kyle and I are already looking for a bigger place.”
“That’s fantastic. You guys deserve it. Listen – You’ve got everything in here under control, right? Excellent. Then I am going to go get the security rundown -- ”
“Going through the exit strategies and floor plans again? Some more?”
“I know the ins and outs of this hotel better than house I grew up in, let met tell you. The combined anal retentiveness of Scott and Carmichael is off the charts.”
“Carmichael’s Secret Service. They’re programmed that way. Like robots. What’s Scott’s excuse for being an all-around anti-social blowhard? He’s never said two words to me in all the times that I’ve been over to your apartment. I don’t even know if he’s ever even looked straight at me.”
It was a familiar complaint of Stephanie’s, but now I felt the need to defend Scott. “He’s not a blowhard. He’s…tightly strung. Get some liquor in him and he’s good to go to Mexico. Anyway, I have got to run. The quicker we go over all that again, the quicker I can get home. I still need to get dressed.”
“Ah, yes. You’re actually important enough to warrant an invitation to this shindig.”
“Mutant privilege,” I joked, and Stephanie and I hugged for the very last time. “Tell Kyle I hope his dissertation goes well. I’ll miss you guys. Be nice to Peter for me.”
“Will do. And, hey, good luck with your man.”
“He’s not my man yet. All in good time.”
Later that evening, as I stood in the doorframe of my room and watched Logan smooth his new, tailored suit jacket – lustful, reckless thoughts dancing around in my head – I offered up all kinds of prayers to all kinds of deities that all in good time wasn’t code for an agonizing eternity.
Picking out one of Scott’s ties at random, Logan grumbled, “I can’t believe I have to wear this penguin suit.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, coming over to take away the checkered tie in favor of a black bowtie. “I think it’s the bee’s knees.” Answering Logan’s mildly puzzled look, I explained, “If you insist on talking like my grandpa, I have no choice but to make fun of you.”
Logan scowled. I grinned. I put the bowtie around his neck and began to tie it for him. If I deluded myself enough, I could almost pretend we were a married couple getting ready for a night on the town. Smile gone wistful, I fixed his collar and brushed some nonexistent lint off his shoulders. “You look good.”
He looked down at my simple green dress and gauzy black long-sleeved cover. “So do you.”
“Thank you,” I said, my lips close to his ear. I gave him a kiss on his bristly cheek. His mutton chops didn’t quite go with the suit, but, then again, my streak didn’t exactly go with the dress. Just went to show that we’re a well-matched misfit pair.
“I don’t – ” He stopped a moment to clear his throat. “I don’t see how you’re supposed to fight in that thing. It looks…tight.”
“Stretchy, actually. And we’re potentially dealing with a human enemy tonight. That’s not much of a fight.” Knitting my eyebrows together, I was about to make a comment on the awkward rhyming when I felt Logan’s warm hands settle on my hips.
Gaze directly on mine, he softly ordered, “Don’t get cocky. That’s dangerous.”
“I’m not cocky; I’m experienced. There’s a difference. And don’t you go looking for trouble. The security around this dinner is the best I’ve ever seen. We’re going to be fine.”
“You making bets?”
“I could be persuaded. How about this – It’s a ball, right? If we reach midnight with smooth sailing ahead, you have to dance with me.”
Logan caught my chin and pulled me forward for kiss that was as unexpectedly soft and sweet as it was brief.
“Marie, you’ve always been an optimist.”
“You love it. And me.”
He did needn’t to admit it for me to feel its truth. It’s kind of funny. All the time I spent worrying about whether or not he loved me enough, he was right there worrying whether he was going to smother me if he held me too tight. The fact that we two frustratingly oblivious people had made it even this far was no small miracle.