I forced my eyes away from the screen, taking in Will, Patches, and the steam plumes from the pasta in the kitchen. This cozy scene was unfolding right here, right now, for real. It wasn’t a fiction. I had everything I wanted: a handsome date, a cat, friends, a thing I was doing with my life I could be proud of. So why didn’t it feel enough? Why did the mere sight of Logan on-screen make me feel like my heart was too large for my chest to contain it?
“Want to start that movie?” Will asked. “Host’s choice.”
Maybe I’d gotten so used to aching—so used to wanting, to longing—that now I couldn’t turn it off. Maybe unhappiness had become like a worn-out armchair, a place I’d grown comfortable and familiar with. Maybe the last bad habit I needed to break was my inability to feel satisfied.
“Lucky for you,” I said, “host’s choice meansThe Princess Bride.” And with the feeling that I was making progress, I pressed the button and turned Logan off.
30
All the World’s a Stage
“Remember those perks I promised you?” Nora, resplendent in abright red ball gown, slipped a gloved arm through mine. “Well, welcome to heaven. Otherwise known as the thirty-fifth annual Friends of Texas black-tie gala.”
“Wow,” I whispered, canting my head to take in the enormity of the mansion. The white stone turrets practically glowed in the evening air, and orchestra music swelled from inside as men in tuxedos and women in gowns strode up the staircase. “It’s beautiful.”
“Some of the most important people in the state are here,” Nora said. “It’s a tradition before every election. All the bigwigs meet to size up the candidates. Our poll numbers are climbing back, so everyone’s going to want to kiss Logan’s ring in case he becomes the next governor. They’ll want leverage for future favors.”
“Sounds high pressure.” I couldn’t stop looking at the sprawling manor, the closest thing to a castle I’d seen in real life. “What do I need to know? What’s my angle? Prep me.”
“Actually.” Her vivid red lips spread into a smile. “Tonight, you’re just going to sit back and enjoy the sucking up.”
We picked up the skirts of our gowns and ascended the stairs toward the glowing entrance. “You realize this is Logan’s nightmare, don’t you?” I smiled at a passing man who nodded so deeply he practically bowed. “Getting complimented for hours is going to send him through the roof.”
Nora rolled her eyes as the ushers at the front doors checked our names and swept us inside. “Figures mine is the one politician in the country without a praise kink.”
I patted her arm sympathetically and turned to take it all in. Inside was even more beautiful than outside. We stood at the top of a tall staircase, upholstered in red carpet, which led to an enormous ballroom. Ornate chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and people were spread thick, filling every corner of the room, interspersed with waiters carrying trays of champagne and hors d’ouevres. Massive oil paintings, the kind that belonged in museums, covered the walls.
“Excuse me?” asked a woman who was dripping with diamonds. “Are you Alexis Stone?”
I looked at Nora as if I needed her to confirm. “Um, yes?”
“Oh my God,” the woman gushed. “You and Logan make the sweetest couple. And the way you’re standing up for public schoolteachers—my children go to private school but their au pair wanted to be a teacher until she heard how little they make. She had to become an Instagram model instead. It was tragic. What you’re doing issoimportant.”
“Thank you?” No idea why everything was coming out a question.
Nora smiled stiffly at the woman. “Thanks for your support. I’m sure Alexis and Logan will be happy to speak more to you later once they’re settled.” Then she tugged me down the stairs.
“You weren’t kidding about the sucking up,” I whispered. “I think I could get used to...” I trailed off. Logan stood in the center of the thickest crowd, wearing a classic black-and-white tuxedo that fit him so well it looked like he’d been born wearing it. He nodded to someone and took a sip of his drink—a tumbler, so it was whiskey. His hair was carefully styled, his ten-o’clock shadow perfectly shaped to accentuate the cut of his jaw. His smile was polite, but above it, his dark eyes danced, sizing up the people around him, making quick calculations. This was Logan the achiever, formal and formidable. He was devastating. I’d never been able to picture him at Harvard so clearly, occupying those ornate, storied spaces where presidents and justices once walked. He belonged here in a tuxedo as much as he belonged on a farm or at a rally. I felt it in my bones: his complexity, the layers of him. Why he was so endlessly fascinating. He might protest or demur, but I saw the truth of him.
He took another sip and his eyes drifted to the staircase, finding my face as if drawn by a magnet. My heart skipped. He gave me the smallest smile—not flashy or toothy but warm and intimate, a look that was only for me.
Heat rushed through me. It felt like a thousand pounds lifted off my chest. If he was smiling at me, then we were okay, despite how we’d left things in Fredericksburg. I squeezed Nora’s arm without thinking.
“He cleans up well,” she said, tracing my stare. “I’ll give him that. Come on, it’s almost time for dinner. Some of these people paid more than ten thousand dollars for the honor of sitting at your table.”
All thoughts of Logan in a tux fled as Nora trailed away. “They didwhat?” I screeched, and scampered after her.
“And here’s the man of the hour,” boomed the tall financier sitting opposite me. Everyone at the table turned to look as Logan strode toward us across the dining room, which was smaller than the ballroom but just as ornate, the ceilings high and painted with Renaissance-style frescoes. To my surprise, every guest rose to their feet—the financier and his wife, the wind farm owner and her wife, and the elderly heiress and her husband, who I’d actually thought was asleep over his soup bowl. I followed Nora’s lead and scrambled up, shoving my chair back.
“Oh, Jesus, sit down,” Logan growled. “I’m not the bloody king of England.” Nevertheless, he seized the financier’s hand and worked his way around the table, greeting everyone with enthusiasm. The elderly heiress wouldn’t let go of his hand, giving Logan moon eyes her husband seemed either unaware of or unbothered by.
Logan finally extracted himself and found his seat beside me. He cupped a warm hand to my face in greeting and drew me close. “This okay?” he breathed, and when I nodded, he kissed me on the cheek. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.
I’d balked at the idea of the campaign buying me a gown, so I’d borrowed a dress from Lee. It happened to be forest green, my favorite color. “Thank you.”
“I never realized how much I loved the color green until I met you,” he said quietly, and my heart raced.We’re in public, I reminded myself.Performing.
“Well, as much as you hate black tie, you pull it off.” I swallowed. “Well.”
