Chapter 111
Logan
When the plane landed in New York, my phone was burning up. I threw my overcoat over my arm as I pulled my carry-on from the overhead bin, and then looked down at the caller ID. It was my mother again. Both of my parents were tag teaming me, taking turns calling. I was a grown man and I couldn't disappear for a weekend without my parents sending out a search party. I shook my head as I slid my phone into my carry-on bag and threw it over my shoulder, vowing to speak to them when I was damned good and ready.
"Have a great day, and thank you for flying American Airlines!" the flight attendant said as I approached.
I nodded. "Thank you," I said as I exited the plane.
The plane ride had given me plenty of time to think. Although I was furious with Alyssa, I knew that I shouldn't be. My first thought was that she had left me so as not to be saddled with an invalid, but she actually thought I was dead. I had no idea what to do about it. Despite what I told her, I was just as in love with her as I'd ever been and it was killing me.
After retrieving my bags, I headed for my Porche that was parked in long-term parking, and headed straight for my office. I was surprised that snow had fallen while I was away, but the city did a good job clearing the streets. I pulled into the parking lot, grabbed my briefcase, and headed inside.
I pushed the button for the ninetieth floor of the new One World Trade Center, the tallest structure in the Western Hemisphere. It was built on the same site as the World Trade Center that was destroyed in the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. My parents had insisted that my offices be there, to signify a new beginning of my life in politics
I shook my head as I remembered. How blind I had been! My parents had played the fiddle, and I just danced along. After I thought Alyssa was dead, I had given up for so long and had no fight left within me. After all, there was nothing left to fight for. But now, after all this time, I'd finally woken up.
"Mr. Ambrose!" Abigail greeted me when I walked through the door. "Your mother has been frantic "
"Fuck my mother. I don't want to hear another word about her right now," I said as I walked into my office. "Abigail, would you come in here, please
"Yes, sir," she said, but she was already following me, carrying a legal pad. "Are you okay, sir?"
I nodded. "Yes. I'm fine," I said as I set my briefcase down on the desk and opened it. "Do we have anything pressing for the rest of the week?"
She nodded as she looked at the legal pad. "You have a meeting with the mayor, and your campaign manager has been having a heart attack since your disappearing act. She set up some meet and greets for you, and we didn't know if you'd be back in time."
"Where?" I started going through my desk, throwing things into my briefcase.
Abigail let out a deep breath. "One is a reception for you with other government officials "
"Cancel it."
" one is with the Daughters of the American Revolution "
"Cancel it."
She scratched out items on her legal pad as she ticked them off. " the last is at the ICU ward in the Maria Fareri Children's Hospital, here in New York."
"When?" I asked, looking up from my desk.
"Next Monday."
I nodded. "I'll do that one, but no publicity. Also, have someone buy some toys and teddy bears. I'm not going to visit sick children without a bag of toys."
She smirked. "Like Santa?"
I looked into her eyes. "Don't push it."
She laughed. "Anything else?"
"Yes," I said, looking into her eyes. "Don't book me anything until after the holidays."
"What?"
"You heard me," I said as I turned my attention back to packing away my desk.
"Mr. Ambrose, you've worked so hard to come this far," she said as she placed her hands on my desk. "Don't throw away everything you've worked for."
I let out a deep breath as I stood up. "Abigail, I appreciate your concern, but I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm not cancelling the campaign yet. But right now, I need some time to get my personal life back in order."
"Yes, sir," she said, taking a step back. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you?"
I stood as I snapped my briefcase shut and grabbed my overcoat. "Just take messages and I'll check in periodically. If you need me, you have my cell phone number."
"Yes, sir."
"And Abigail?" I asked as I walked toward the door and smiled. "Have a great holiday."
She smiled as she nodded. "You, too, sir."
"Call me when you're ready with the toys this afternoon."
She nodded as she forced a smile.
I walked out, leaving my office and the nightmare that I had been living for the past ten years behind.
As I walked out the door, the bitter cold rushed to me, giving me a chill. Something caught my eye to the right. A homeless man sat on the sidewalk, leaning against the building. Letting out a deep breath, I stopped and reached for my wallet. I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to him. "Here you go, bud."
The old man was dressed in rags and had a week-old beard. "Thank you, sir," he said as he reached for it and started to walk away, shivering in the cold, bitter air.
"Hey, mister!" I called out after him.
He turned around.
"You need a ride to a shelter?"
He shook his head and smiled. "No. I have a place to stay."
I nodded and watched as he walked away, realizing that he could have been anyone. He could have been me.
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