Page 64 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

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Logan watched her figure retreat into the giant house and he knew he couldn’t leave it like that, not least because Armageddon was about to occur, judging by the amount of messages he was suddenly receiving.

His phone was ringing off the hook, and Logan didn’t need to look at the screen to know that most of the calls were coming from Trevor. Wanting to hold off on whatever the crisis was, he hit decline and got out of the car.

“You want me to wait for you?” Daryl asked. Daryl had been with him for years and was one of the few people he trusted with the daily ins and outs of his life. Daryl wasn’t the chatty type and barely spoke two words. Logan liked this about him. He liked the calmness the man exuded, which is why he’d kept him on his service for almost the entire time he’d been in the movies.

“I’m not sure yet. Can you wait and I’ll let you know when I do?”

Daryl nodded. “Of course.”

Logan’s phone started ringing again. In the short time their conversation had taken ten more notifications of missed calls and voicemails had appeared.

This was going to be bad.

Trying to ignore the wave of dread that was creeping up his spine, he finally answered the phone. Trevor didn’t wait for a greeting before launching into his tirade.

“Maybe, we weren’t clear enough when we said our priority was to work on repairing your damaged reputation. That meant, being a good boy, not getting into trouble, certainly not being seen abusing your new girlfriend in front of a policeman. None of that is what we discussed Logan, did you not get the memo?”

“Of course I got the memo Trevor, I’m the one who created it. This is another misunderstanding. And for your information, we didn’t have a fight, and she’s not my girlfriend.”

“So not only have you abused a woman in front of the law, now you’re going to deny her importance to you?” Trevor’s voice had risen an octave.

“Why would I lie about something like this? She’s the woman I saved on the beach.”

“The one you wouldn’t allow us to run a story on, the story, might I add, that would have absolved you in the public eye, turning you into a hero again. That woman?”

“Her name is Jane…” Logan supplied helpfully.

“I swear to God, Logan…” Trevor paused to take a breath, fighting the urge to reach down the phone to throttle his client and friend.

“It wasn’t anything big. She went out for a drive but forgot that she doesn’t have a license right now…”

“Let me get this straight. She was driving without a license. In California, in your car?” Logan could almost hear the thoughts running through Trevor’s mind as he tried to weave a narrative that the public might buy.

Logan’s footsteps echoed in the hallway as he made his way inside. “She knows how to drive. I’m sure she had a license before she lost her memory. It’s not her fault she doesn’t know who she is.”

Trevor’s thunderous silence spoke volumes. When he spoke again, his voice was pained. “I think you’re going to have to start from the beginning. And don’t leave any detail out.”

Thirty minutes later, Kitty opened the front door to a barrage of people.

Behind them, an array of expensive cars littered the driveway. She showed them into the living area where Logan sat, waiting, nursing a whiskey.

Without greeting him, they started talking over one another.

“What have I told you about not doing anything without running it by me first?” This had come from a tiny Asian woman with an equally tiny waist and a fake weave of long black hair that she wore in a sleek ponytail that reached down to her butt.

Her face was covered in make up that emphasized her almond-shaped eyes and the sharp planes of her face. Not even five-feet-tall, she wore towering stilettos that boosted her up. Her ponytail whipped from side to side as she stormed up to Logan, glaring beneath dramatic false eyelashes.

“Adele, lovely as always to see you.”

His publicist folded her arms across her chest, red talons glittering dangerously. “Shut up.”

To Kitty, she said something in their native Cantonese. However hard Adele was on the people around her, she was always respectful to Kitty, recognizing the life the older woman had experienced. Logan couldn’t be sure, but it seemed the two might even have been friends outside of work, though the thought often instilled panic in him — even if he didn’t think she would betray his trust, the thought of Kitty revealing his secrets to Adele made him break out into a cold sweat.

Several more people came in after Adele.

Logan spotted his assistant, a nice girl in her early twenties called Vicky. Originally raised in Iowa, she was as wholesome as they came and refreshingly different from the girls who usually flocked to this city. She flashed him an apologetic smile, knowing he hadn’t called her there as the last person arrived.

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