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“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I think you should go,” Jane says. “Whatever’s happened between you two today…I mean,lookat you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been together for six months or a year. Or longer. You seem natural together, but also… romantic. I’m sorry. I’m playing armchair therapist.”
Logan shakes his head. “You’re right on the money as far as I’m concerned.”
“And me,” I say passionately. “Completely.”
“So go,” Jane says. “Show the world what arealcouple looks like. Not that fake crap for the photos.”
My mouth falls open. “You knew?”
“I guessed,” Jane says. “It doesn’t take a genius. It looks like you don’t even want to be there in most of them, Logan.”
He laughs gruffly. “That’s sort of the point.”
“But I’m right, aren’t I?”
“You are. The only person I want is sitting right here.”
A glowing feeling whelms in me, even as something else tries to shatter it.
“Who’s going to be at the party?” I whisper.
“The usual crowd of socialites, actors, and all the rest of it.”
“You don’t enjoy them?” Jane asks. “The date thing makes sense. I noticed that, after every event, at least a few write-ups mention your charity.”
“That’s the game,” he says. “But no, I don’t enjoy them. Even as part of the dates. I’d rather be spending time with my family.”
I think my whole world’s about to turn upside down for a second.
His family?
He looks at me, smiling tightly. “The family I might have… in the future. Of course, I’d have preferred to be with them. But after Anna…I never thought I was going to have kids again.”
Until I met you, hangs unspoken in the air as we gaze deeply into each other’s eyes.
Suddenly, meanly, I wish Jane wasn’t here.
“But it’s all part of helping Never Alone.”
“Won’t the charity suffer now?” I ask.
Logan sighs. “Maybe it will. Or maybe we’ll think of a way to replace the donations this little game gets us. But it doesn’t matter. I can’t go on dates with other women, even if it’s not real…not now, Lucy. I wouldn’t disrespect my girlfriend like that.”
“Holdon.” Jane leaps to her feet, clapping her hands together. “Are you two official?”
“Yes,” I say, and at the same time, Logan says, “We are.”
He reaches down, laying his hand on my shoulder.
“Please go,” Jane says.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I murmur, feeling like I want to go but, for some reason, needing to put up a defense.
Maybe it’s so I can tell myself it’s not my fault after I’ve endured a whole evening of being judged by these high-flying social types. Or maybe it’s the fear of looking into people’s eyes and seeing the thought…Why is he withher?
