Chapter 71

He laughed. "Well, let's not keep them waiting then," Logan said as he opened the car door and slid out. Then, he extended his hand to me and helped me out of the back of the limo. The mansion was lovely-three stories and dimly lit by outside decorative white security lights, which accented the gray stones. It looked as if it had been there for centuries.
"Have fun tonight," Jim teased as he extended a hand to Logan. "It's good to see you here again."
Logan smiled as he shook his hand. "It's good to be back." Then, he turned toward me "Ready?"
I nodded, overcome by sudden nerves.
"I love you," he whispered as he placed a hand gently on the small of my back and we walked up the stairs.
I squared my shoulders, preparing myself mentally for anything. "I love you, too."
Just before we reached the front door, it opened and a butler stepped out and bowed. "Master Ambrose. Welcome home." He bowed slightly as he held the door open for him.
Logan extended his hand, and then pulled him in for a quick hug. "Hey, Archie. It's good to see you."
Archie pulled back and raised his chin. "The name's Archer."
Logan patted his shoulder playfully. "That's what I said, Archie," he teased.
Archer cracked a smile, looking at Logan affectionately as he stood back to let us in. "Welcome home."
I could tell that Logan loved teasing him, and Archer didn't really mind it at all, despite his cool exterior. Somehow, Logan didn't seem to fit in here, although he was right at home with the pomp and circumstance. He seemed displaced, somehow. It was hard to imagine Logan having been raised there. He was so down to earth, and the staff loved him.
We stepped into a foyer with high ceilings and a chandelier dripping with crystals that caught the light just right. The room was painted a light gray, which added to the importance of the room and of the family.
"Welcome home, son," a tall man with white hair in an impeccable black suit said as he approached us, extending his hand toward Logan. The resemblance was uncanny. There was no mistaking that he was Logan's father.
Logan shook his hand and smiled warmly. "Father."
His father took my hand and raised it to his lips. "My dear. It's a pleasure to meet you." He gave my hand a light kiss, pretending not to notice the ring resting prominently on my finger.
"Senator Ambrose," I said with a slight nod as I smiled warmly.
A woman suddenly made a grand entrance into the room, wearing a tasteful red silk dress that flowed like water over her curves. It was strapless, and looked divine on her. Her blonde hair flowed in well-coifed waves that came to rest just above her shoulders. "Son," she said to Logan as she pulled him in for a hug. Logan stiffened as she gave him an air kiss just over his cheek, careful not to smudge her lipstick. "It's good to have you home."
"Mother," Logan said stiffly, much more relaxed with the staff than his own parents. Then, he turned to me. "Mother, Father, I'd like you to meet Alyssa Collins."
"It's a pleasure," his mother said as she extended her hand stiffly, palm down as she looked down her nose at me. She hadn't acknowledged that I was even in the room until Logan introduced me.
I took it, and she gave my hand a quick squeeze. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ambrose," I said. Something took over inside of me, and all fear melted away, determined not to let her intimidate me.
Her eyes traveled quickly over my dress, but I refused to feel subconscious. "Lovely dress, my dear. Where ever did you find it?"
I smiled as I squeezed Logan's hand. "Thank you. Logan helped me pick it out."
She nodded, and then her hand traveled down to my hand as the blue sapphire caught the light. "Lovely ring," she said flatly, and then looked at her son. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Mother, let's go inside," Logan said, pointing toward a hallway. "We have some wonderful news to share with you."
His mother nodded as she forced a smile, and then turned and walked out of the room. Her red high heels clicked loudly against the marble floor, resonating throughout the foyer. His father followed silently.
I looked up at Logan. He nodded encouragingly as he forced a smile and placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me. The house looked like a museum with expensive furnishings sitting everywhere. A chandelier hung from high ceiling, and marble covered every surface. I looked at Logan, and could not imagine him having been raised in such a cold, superficial environment. It was a wonder that he turned out to be as down to earth and caring as he was.
The hallway opened to a dining room with an intricately carved wooden table that stretched across the room. Logan walked over to a chair and held it out for me. I sat down, and he slid it under me. A servant did the same for Logan's mother, who sat at one end of the table, and his father sat at the other end. The table clearly had two heads. Logan took the seat next to me, slid his hand onto my lap, and squeezed my hand reassuringly. I looked into his eyes and smiled. He seemed to relax a bit.
"Mother, Father, we have something to tell you," Logan began.
"So, how is your tour going?" Mrs. Ambrose asked as she took a sip of her soup, ignoring Logan's statement. It was clear that she was used to getting her way.
Logan let out a deep breath, but didn't touch his soup. "It's going well, but did you hear what I said?"
Mrs. Ambrose looked down the table to her husband, who was spooning his soup. Then, she looked back at Logan. "Eat your soup, dear. We'll talk in a bit."
Logan shook his head. "Mom, I want to talk about it now."
I reached under the table and squeezed his hand, hoping to calm him.
Mrs. Ambrose took another dainty sip of her soup. "Eat your soup, dear."
"I don't want to eat the damned soup, Mother!" Logan said as he threw his napkin onto the table.
"Son," Mr. Ambrose warned.
"No, Father!" Logan said, his eyes flaring in anger. "I've been 'eating the soup' for years, so to speak, and I'm not going to do it anymore. When there's something that you don't want to talk about, then you brush it off! Well, this time, you're going to listen!"
His father stood. "Son!"
Logan was suddenly on his feet, too. "No, Father! Alyssa and I are going to be married, whether you want to hear it or not!"
"Son, she's a commoner," Mrs. Ambrose replied, calmly setting her spoon down.
"I'm sitting right here," I said as I laid my napkin on the table, too.
"Commoner?" Logan asked, ignoring me. "She's a wonderful, warm person "
His mother was suddenly on her feet. "Son, we have high hopes for you," she said in a low voice, stealing glances at me. "And if you want to be President on day, you'll need to marry well."
Logan let out a deep breath as he placed his hands on the table and leaned toward his mother. "I don't want to be President! Don't you get it? I'm doing exactly what I want to do!" He shook his head as he looked away, and then back to his mother again. "In fact, I wouldn't even be on tour now and have a recording contract if it wasn't for Alyssa."
His mother's eyes flared as stared at me. "So, you're the one responsible!"
Logan shook his head and looked down at me, extending his hand. "Come on. Let's go."
"No! You cannot leave!" his mother yelled. "I forbid it!"
Logan scoffed. "You forbid it?" he asked in disbelief.
I took his hand and rose to my feet.
"I love her, Mother," he said, his voice suddenly calm. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it." Then, he looked over at me. "Let's go."
I nodded as I held his hand and let him lead me from the room.
The falsetto clicking of high heels resonated throughout the room behind, and was quickly gaining on us. Suddenly, his mother's hand was on Logan's arm and she turned him around. "Son, you can't do this! You'll ruin your life! I won't allow that to happen!"
Logan laughed without humor. "You just don't get it, do you? Is that why you paid off Megan?"
His mother's eyes widened with shock, and then narrowed. "I did no such thing."
"Oh really?" Logan asked, pulling me behind him protectively. "She disappeared without a word, Mother! Where is she now? Do you know?" Logan bit his lip as he looked away and then back into his mother's eyes as he smirked. "Tell me this, Mother. Did you pay her off, or did you have her killed?"
His mother pulled back her hand and let it fly across her son's face. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me again!"
A tear rolled down his cheek as he bit his lip. "Come on. Let's go," he said as he pulled me along. "It's clear that we're not welcome." He placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the door protectively.
His mother didn't follow. "If you leave this time, you're on your own! Don't bother coming back!"
Logan opened the front door and let me step out in front of him, and then turned back to face his mother. "I wouldn't want it any other way."
As Logan closed the door behind him, what sounded like a vase shattered against the door from the inside. "Come on," Logan said as his eyes flared.