“You fight dirty.” The smile on Logan’s face told Tess he didn’t care diddly-squat about his mom knowing about his bad manners.
“You’re impossible.” She glanced at the other container of takeout sitting on the counter. Logan had ordered an extra Chicken Chow Mein. It was one of her favorite Chinese meals and the only thing she’d been able to smell for the last fifteen minutes. Her tummy rumbled.
Logan smiled and pushed the container toward her with the end of his chopstick.
She grabbed the box and opened the lid. “I’m only eating because it’s rude to waste good food.”
“Of course it is.” He was having trouble holding back the laughter in his voice.
Tess decided she’d ignore him while she ate her dinner. He was bad for her digestion and she wanted to enjoy every tasty mouthful.
She settled down on the kitchen stool as Logan pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He touched a few buttons and the latest Michael Bublé song filled the apartment. All they needed was candlelight and a bottle of wine and they could have called their meal a date. Except this wasn’t a date. It was a takeout takeover.
They ate in silence. Michael Bublé continued to croon and Tess continued to simmer. By the end of her meal, she was beginning to feel slightly happier about Logan being in her apartment. But that was only because he had good taste in takeout and she didn’t need to do the dishes.
When Logan opened the bag he’d put in the fridge she almost forgave him his inadequacies. He’d ordered chocolate mousse for dessert. While he took two bowls out of the pantry, she found a tub of vanilla ice cream in her freezer.
He raised his eyebrows when she put a generous scoop in each bowl. “Ice cream is full of calcium. You’re getting old and need all the help you can get.”
“You know how to cut a man to shreds.” Logan split the chocolate mousse between the bowls and slid one to Tess.
“You don’t look too damaged to me.”
Logan focused on his bowl. “Looks can be deceptive,” he muttered.
Tess glanced at him. “Are you saying you’re damaged?”
“Slightly dented.”
Tess thought about what Logan had said. The problem with dents was that you tended to overcompensate so you didn’t get hurt again. And that wasn’t what life was all about.
She finished her dessert and rinsed her bowl. “I’m going to offer you coffee, but only because I want one.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Logan joined her at the sink and rinsed his bowl after she’d finished.
Now that they’d had something to eat, Tess was sure Logan wouldn’t stay the night. But even if she was wrong, she was getting too tired to care. She really needed to get some sleep. If he wasn’t gone by the time they’d finished coffee, she was going to bed and leaving him to make himself at home.
They sat in the living room, sipping coffee and dealing with whatever thoughts were spinning in their heads.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re a compulsive helper?” Logan asked.
“There’s nothing compulsive about my behavior.” Tess wasn’t sure she liked the word ‘compulsive’. It went hand in hand with obsessive, and she wasn’t like that either. “I help people because I can.”
“So do other people. But you don’t see them getting up at four thirty each morning to bake for the masses.”
“Everyone has different priorities. I know lots of people who get up early. Some write, some plan, some do yoga, and others run.” She glanced at Logan to make sure he got the message.
“Yeah, but I’ve got issues. You don’t.”
Tess held back the scoffing noise itching to break free.
Logan gave her an odd look. “What issues do you have?”
“If I told you, you’d think I was shallow.”
“Try me.”
“You’re clever, Logan Allen. You lull me into a warm fuzzy glow with Chinese takeout and Michael Bublé. Then you pounce on the information you wanted in the first place. Has anyone ever told you that you’d make a good reporter?”
Logan frowned. “The food was from necessity, the music because I thought you’d enjoy it. I asked the question because I’m worried about you.”
“Worried?”
“You look tired, you’re not sleeping and you’re always busy. When do you make time for yourself?”
Tess sighed. “That was supposed to be tonight. I was going to have a bath and paint my nails before I went to bed.”
“You want me to feel guilty?”
“I wanted you to go home.”
Logan looked hopeful. “Does speaking in past tense mean you’ve changed your mind?”
Tess glanced at his half full mug and smiled. “You can finish your coffee first.”
Logan looked down at his drink. “I can make it last all night.”
Tess always knew he was bone deep stubborn. What she’d completely missed was how single-minded he was. And she was tired. Too tired to dodge his questions. “Do you want the condensed version, or the longer, more twisted tale of woe?”
“I like a good story, so go for the long version.”
Tess frowned. “You can stay for an extra five minutes after I’ve answered your question.”
“What happened to an empty mug of coffee?”
“I changed my mind. It’s five minutes after my story ends, or your time’s up now.” Tess wanted to double check that he knew he was leaving and not making himself at home in her spare bedroom.
“All right. What if I want to ask a question?”
“One question and that’s it. Anything else waits until the next time I see you.”
He nodded and Tess tried to work out where she’d start. “My mom had a few issues.” That had to be the understatement of the year. Tess’ mom had been as reliable as a block of ice on a desert island. “I came to live with grandpa and grandma when I was thirteen. When I was fifteen, I was spotted by a talent agent and for the next ten years traveled around Europe, modeling the latest clothes to hit the catwalk.”
Logan waited for her to say something more. When she didn’t say anything, he frowned. “That’s it?”
Tess frowned right on back. “You wanted to know what issues I’ve got. I told you, so now you can leave.” She didn’t know what Logan’s problem was. She’d given him what he’d asked for and he still looked as though he was ready to stay the night.
“Living with your grandparents and working in Europe don’t seem like issues to me.”
Tess crossed her arms. “They are if you consider everything else that happened. I developed trust and abandonment issues from my mom. I let people tell me what to do because I wanted them to be happy with me. My low self-esteem probably helped in my early modeling days. I’d do just about anything for my agent, including not eating. How’s that for issues?”
“It’s not a competition.”
“No, but they’re a complication. They color what I do and add more importance to things that shouldn’t matter. Angel Wings Café is my way of celebrating food. While I was modeling, I was careful about what I ate. What I looked like became more important than who I was. Providing meals for the Lighthouse Café is my way of helping other people feel special.”
“Where’s your mom now?”
“She died from a drug overdose when I was thirteen.”
Logan stared at her. “And your friend died from a drug overdose three years ago?”
Tess nodded. “I could have done more to help her.” She closed her eyes and remembered the Evie she’d met in New York twelve years ago. It was the first time either of them had been to a big city. Evie had been full of life and ready to take the world by storm.
It was still hard to think about the last time they’d seen each other.
“My psychiatrist would call that survivor’s guilt. You did the best you could. Your friend made choices that ultimately killed her.”
In her heart, Tess knew he was right. But that didn’t change what had happened. Four weeks before Evie died,
Tess had known something was really wrong. They’d met in Paris before going to separate modeling contracts. Tess was flying to Milan and Evie to Los Angeles.
Evie had always been hypersensitive about her weight and what she looked like. But this time she’d been neurotic. She’d lost more weight and looked gaunt and hollow-eyed. She’d told Tess she was taking drugs. Her addiction had spiraled out of control. The boyfriend she’d raved about for months was giving her everything she needed, killing her one fix at a time.
Tess had tried to convince her to cancel her contract in Los Angeles and come to Milan with her. Evie had laughed and told her there was nothing to worry about. When she got back to New York, she was going to check into a drug rehab program.
It hadn’t happened. Christmas had come and gone and so had Evie.
Tess looked at her empty coffee mug. “Whether I did the best I could doesn’t matter. Evie died.” Tess thought about what had come next; the funeral, the police, the lies and the publicity that had changed her life. It had been one of the hardest times of her life.
Logan stretched his legs out and focused on his sneakers. “When I got to Afghanistan it was different than I thought it would be. I went there to tell the real story, to let the rest of the world know what was happening. But it wasn’t that easy. Everyone had their own reasons for telling part of the story. When I got home, I had an independent interpreter look at some of the interviews I’d done. One of the official interpreters consistently translated everyone’s words into things they hadn’t said. I’d been reporting on information that was based on lies.”
Tess rested her head against the sofa. “How did that make you feel?”
“As though most of what I’d done had been a waste of time. I blamed myself for not speaking fluent Pashto or Dari.”
“Did any of the reporters know how to talk to the Afghan people?”
“No. Most of the contracts were for six months so they didn’t see it as a high priority. The official interpreters were supposed to help us.”
Tess pulled her feet up beside her and turned to Logan. “What happened at the school you told me about the other day?”
“I don’t talk about it very often.”
Tess knew whatever had happened must have been traumatic. Logan looked tense and stressed. The knuckles on his hands had turned white around his coffee mug. “That’s okay. You don’t need to tell me.”
He took a deep breath and put his mug on the table. “I started a school with some soldiers not long after I arrived. The children in the village knew a few English words, but not a lot. We didn’t think it would do any harm, so we set up a roster and started classes. Three-quarters of the children that came to the school were girls. It was a big deal for them.”
Logan glanced at Tess. “Abiba was twenty-one years old and knew more English than anyone in the village. She loved coming to school to help the students. One day she arrived late, which was unusual for her. I’d taken some of the older students outside to pick up the supplies that had arrived from the States. Friends and family would send chalk, pens, paper and anything else they could get in boxes.”
He stopped talking and crossed his arms in front of his chest. But not before Tess saw how badly his hands were trembling. What he was about to tell her had shocked him beyond anything he’d known.
“Abiba was a suicide bomber. That morning we lost two soldiers and at least ten children. After the bomb exploded, the Army evacuated the village. The Taliban had targeted the school and everything around it.”
Tess rested her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Is that why you’re not sleeping?”
“Some of it.”
Tess didn’t know what to say. “What happened to the people that lived in the village?”
“Most left on their own. Others were taken to a refugee camp. The injured soldiers and children were airlifted to the nearest hospital.”
“And you came home?”
Logan nodded. “I couldn’t go back.”
Tess rubbed his arm. It wasn’t much, but she wanted him to know that she cared. She walked across to the pantry and took out her four o’clock pick-me-up treats.
“Sounds like we could both do with a sugar rush before you go home.” She sat down beside Logan and offered him a cookie.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That’s the subtlest way of giving me my marching orders that I’ve ever heard.”
“I aim to please. But not as much as I used to.”
“Good for you,” Logan said as he bit into a bar. “At least one of us is learning to deal with their issues.”
Chapter Six
Before Tess started her café, she would have told anyone that Wednesdays would have been the quietest day of the week. But that was before she found out about all of the midweek activities in Bozeman. Between the library, the bridge club and the genealogy club she had a steady stream of regular Wednesday customers.
By eleven o’clock that morning they’d sold most of their muffins. She was busy making another batch when Annie handed her the phone.
“I need to keep serving in the café. I think it’s Connie. She sounds upset.”
Tess took the phone out of Annie’s hand. “Connie? Is everything all right?”
“I’m sorry to call you at work, but I didn’t know how to get hold of you.”
“That’s okay. What’s happened?”
“Mom’s not well. Dave and I are getting married at five o’clock tonight in the hospital chapel. If you can still make it, we’d like you and your friends to be there.”
“Oh, Connie. I’m so sorry about your mom. Of course we’ll be there. What about your dresses?”
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I dropped the bridesmaids’ dresses off at a friend’s house. She was going to do the alterations for us. My best friend can’t get here until tomorrow and we don’t know…”
Connie didn’t need to finish what she was going to say. Tess felt a lump form in her throat. “I can help. Do you have a dress to wear?”
“A bridal store is making my gown. I don’t know if they’ve finished.”
Tess grabbed a pen and piece of paper out of a drawer. “Would you like me to sort out the dresses?”
“Could you? Dave and I are busy calling all of our friends and family. I’ll give you my sister’s phone number. Denise will be able to help. Thank you for doing this for us.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a call as soon as I’ve got the dresses.” Tess wrote down Denise’s phone number and said goodbye. The next person she called was Kate, her part-time assistant. Tess knew she’d need Kate to come in early if she was going to help Connie.
Annie poked her head around the kitchen door. “Is everything okay?”
Tess shook her head. “Connie’s mom isn’t doing too well. They’ve brought the wedding forward to tonight. Are you able to come?”
“Sure. We’re not bowling tonight. What do you want me to do?”
“Could you look after the café with Kate until we close? The wedding’s at five o’clock in the chapel of Bozeman Deaconess Hospital.”
“What about the bridesmaids’ dresses? Connie wouldn’t have had a chance to make any alterations.”
Tess slid the uncooked muffins into the oven. “I’m going to give Connie’s sister a call. Between us, we should be able to work something out.” She had one other person to contact before she rang Denise. “I’ll give Logan a call, too.”
“No need,” Annie said. “He’s sitting in the café. I’ll call Molly and Sally.”
“Thanks.” Tess undid her apron and dialed Denise’s phone number. In less than six hours, Connie would be walking down the aisle.
With a little help from her friends, Tess was going to give Connie and Dave something special to remember.
***
An hour later, Tess and two of Connie’s sisters were standing in Emily Green’s boutique. �
��Where would you like us?”
Emily waved Tess, Denise, and her sister, Kristine up the main staircase. “Come upstairs with me. When is the other bridesmaid arriving?”
Denise looked at her watch. “Joanne will be here in half an hour.”
Tess had called Emily out of desperation. Connie hadn’t even managed to show her sisters the bridesmaids’ dresses before her mom took a turn for the worse. With only six hours left before the wedding, Emily was the only person Tess knew who could use a sewing machine.
But Emily could do so much more than sew clothes. She’d opened an amazing fashion boutique two doors down from Angel Wings Café. The old library building had been transformed into a chic, stylish boutique. Emily had customers who lived around the world. She tutored design classes and filled her life with everything that made her happy. She’d also made the bridesmaids’ dresses that Connie had chosen for her wedding. If anyone could pull a miracle out of the bag, it was Emily.
Emily lifted a measuring tape off her sewing table. “Who’s going first? You can change into your dresses in Nicky’s office. She won’t be back for the rest of the day.”
Kristine looked through the dresses Denise had hung on a rack. “These are beautiful.”
“Our sister’s got good taste. I’ve put my name on the dress for me.” Denise moved across to her sister and pointed to another dress. “I thought this one was the closest to your measurements.”
Kristine lifted the dress off the rail. “Better make me first. Denise said her dress doesn’t need any alterations.” She smiled at her sister and walked into Nicky’s office.
Tess looked at the list Denise had made before she’d left the hospital. “Has anyone called the reception venue to cancel?”
“We don’t need to,” Denise said. “After the burglary Connie and Dave decided to have the reception at mom and dad’s place. I think mom was secretly pleased they’d changed the venue. She’s got such a pretty garden.” Denise’s bottom lip trembled. She blew her nose and took a deep breath. “Did Logan mind going to the florist?”
Tess shook her head. “If anyone can convince them to make four bouquets in the next couple of hours, it’s Logan. Molly’s on her way over here, too.”
All of Me (The Bridesmaids Club Book 1) Page 10
