Chapter 126

Logan

When I woke that afternoon, I thought I was dreaming at first because Alyssa was still in my bed, safe in my arms. I had dreamt of that moment since I had discovered that she was still alive, but experiencing it filled my soul more than I could imagine. At that moment, I knew that I would never want anyone or anything more in my life than I wanted my Allie.
I kissed her gently on the cheek and quietly rose from the bed, not wanting to wake her, and then headed toward the shower, letting the water wash away my doubts; wash away my fear. As the warm water poured over me, I knew that I wanted her to be mine forever and I would do whatever it took to make sure that it happened.
After I showered, I turned off the water and wrapped a white towel around my waist, and then walked back into my bedroom. She was still stretched out across my bed, face down, as her sun-streaked blonde hair cascaded over my pillow. A smile appeared on her face as she hugged a pillow to her, the white sheets down low, exposing the top of her ass, leaving her top uncovered, exposing the side of her breast as she lay face down. I studied her, committing the moment to memory, etching it into my brain forever.
If I didn't need to go to the office, or else I would have climbed back into bed with her and made love to her all day, but I had some business that I needed to attend to. It was all I could do not to stay, but I had no choice. I was meeting with the mayor of New York and other public officials, announcing my intent to run for office, with their endorsement. For two cents, I would have blown it off and stayed with her. But I had our future to think of now.
I grabbed a pen on the dresser and scribbled a note on a pad that read simply Dinner tonight? And I signed it L. I was going to write something like I'll love you forever. I can't live without you. Move in, or marry me. But it would have sounded too cheesy or would send me over the edge into stalker mode. I didn't want to scare her. No. Those things I would say later and in person.
I hated that I wouldn't be there when she woke, but I wanted her to sleep and to feel comfortable in my bed. To feel comfortable with me.
I dressed in a gray suit, white shirt, and a matching gray-striped tie, and donned my three-hundred-dollar black dress shoes, remembering when I was just as happy in my thirty-dollar Converse or at least they were ten years ago. At that moment, I made a promise to get back there; to get back to that me that made his own decisions and lived his own life. Not the me who I had become. The me who let others tell him what was best in his life; let his mother run his life. At that moment, it was as if I had awoken from a ten-year slumber. I needed to get my life back on track, to live my life in my way.
I drove to my office, smiling as I thought of Alyssa, of making love to her all night, of tracing my eyes over her curves as she slept in my bed. Even Michelangelo himself could not have painted a more perfect picture.
Within minutes, I pulled my Jaguar into the parking garage of the One World Trade Center, grabbed by briefcase, locked the doors, and then headed up the elevator to my office on the ninetieth floor.
"Good morning, Mr. Ambrose," Abigail said as I walked into my office.
"Morning," I said with a nod as I headed into my office and she followed. "So, the Mayor isn't here yet?" I opened my briefcase, pulled out some files and laid them on my desk, and then slid the briefcase under it, snapping it shut.
She tried to conceal her smile. "No, not yet, but I'm sure they will arrive soon," she said as she looked down at her notepad. "Your press conference is at ten o'clock. You're late."
The clock read nine o'clock in the morning. I shrugged. "I'm still on time."
She huffed. "We have just enough time for your debriefing."
I shook my head. "Actually, no. It's a whole new game now," I said as I leaned onto my desk and looked into her eyes. "And it's the job of my campaign manager to 'debrief' me. Not yours. No offense."
She scoffed. "How could I possibly take offense to that?" she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
I let out a deep breath. "I appreciate all that you have done for me, but I'm tired of other people running the show. It's my turn now."
She nodded as her lips curled into a smile. "Just what I've been waiting to hear."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to ignore that comment because you've been with me for so long."
She shrugged. "Do as you please, Mr. Ambrose." Then, she headed toward the door. "I'll let you know when they arrive."
I nodded. "Thanks, Abigail."
She smiled as she closed the door behind her.
Shouting erupted from the waiting room. A crease formed between my eyes as I headed toward the door, but it was flung open and hit the wall with a loud thud. My mother stood in the doorway in all her glory, wearing a skin-tight, bright red dress and matching heels, her blonde bobbed hair coifed to perfection and her makeup as equally perfect.
Abigail stormed in behind her with her mouth open, ready to tell my mother off, I supposed. But I stopped her.
"I got this," I said, holding up my hand.
She closed her mouth, but cast a warning glare at my mother. I suppressed a smile. Abigail was the only woman I knew who was brave enough to go head to head with my mother.
Mom slinked out of her brown fur coat and threw it at Abigail without looking at her.
Abigail made no effort to catch it and let it fall to the floor. Instead, she turned her attention to me and smiled sweetly. "Would you like me to call security?"
I bit my upper lip, suppressing a smile, admiring her spunk. "No. That won't be necessary." I turned my attention to the speech on my desk. "Leave us, please."
I could hear the smile in her voice. "As you wish." Then, she turned and left the room, leaving my mother's expensive fur coat on the floor, closing the door behind her.
"Why, that insolent little bitch!" Mother said as she teetered on her four-inch heels and bent down to scoop the coat up off the floor. "This is sable!"
I shrugged. "Then, maybe you shouldn't have thrown it at her."
Mother threw her coat onto a nearby club chair instead, and then stood before my desk. "What's happened to you? Don't you know that you have a press conference announcing your intent to run for senator in just a few minutes?"
I didn't look up. "Of course, Mother. Now, leave me so I can prepare."
"How dare you!" she yelled, demanding my attention.
I looked up, unmoved. "Why are you here?"
She let out a deep breath as she forced a smile. "Well, I wouldn't miss my son's big day."
"Or the opportunity for publicity," I said.
She slammed her hands down onto my desk. "How dare you talk to me that way! Do you know that you're here because of me?"
"And Father," I interjected, going over my notes. "But I have a feeling it was more you than him."
She placed her manicured hands on my desk, her fingernails painted a bright red to match her dress, claiming my attention.