Page 57 of Under the Mistletoe
He was tired of LA, and he was tired of not having a phone, since it was lost in Chicago along with his bag. Logan ran his hand through his much shorter hair as he slid the contract back toward the Hollywood executives across the wide conference table. “I still won’t sign that. I want a say in the script.”
They had been at this for four days, and if he had to repeat himself one more time, he might lose his mind.
A woman named Linda pushed it back, eyeing him over her dark-blue-rimmed readers. Her red lips pursed as she tapped her gold nail against the paper. “You’re not a screenwriter, you’re a novelist. Leave the screenwriting to the screenwriters.”
“I’m not asking to write the screenplay.” Logan pushed it back toward her. “I’m saying I want to approve it. Maybe offer suggestions if yourscreenwriterscome up with some story twists that don’t fit the novel. I built that world and created those characters. I am not letting things slip in that don’t fit the world or dialogue that doesn’t fit the characters. I’ve seen too many screen adaptations that fans of the books hate. I owe my success to my readers, and I’m not doing that to them for any price.”
This had been the very reason he hadn’t signed away the movie rights to the publisher. At least for books two through four. He hadn’t had much bargaining power for book one. But the movie executives didn’t want just one film. It was the whole series or nothing.
The people across the table leaned their heads together and lowered their voices.
Mark and Sandy cringed next to him, but he didn’t care. Sure, he’d like to see the books made into movies, but only if they were done well. He had no doubt that they were salivating over the potential paycheck from a can’t-miss blockbuster, but the books made him plenty for his simple lifestyle. His lonely lifestyle.
But his cabin didn’t bring the usual longing. What he wanted to do was get back to Heritage.
Part of it was definitely Devin. He should have talked to her before he’d left. If she really was interested in his brother, then he wanted her to know there were no hard feelings. Sort of. But the more he turned the idea over, the more things didn’t fit. Devin didn’t come across as someone so fickle, and unless he’d read the room wrong the night before, she likedhim, not Liam.
But getting back to Heritage was more than that. Being there had breathed new life into him in a way he hadn’t even known he needed. He missed people. Missed family. And something in him had sparked to life the moment Easton had leaned toward him, wishing for a family for Christmas. It was as if that had planted a seed of an idea that had grown into the desire to not just stop taking what he had for granted but also share what he had with others. Specifically, Easton, Alani, and Tyce.
The idea had come to him and pretty much sat in his brain ever since he’d boarded the plane to LA. Adopt the kids. It sounded so crazy in his head that he hadn’t even spoken it aloud yet. He couldn’t be a dad. He was too young. At least for kids this age. He’d been sixteen when Easton was born.
And he needed a wife, right? Did they approve single dads for adoption? Even if they did, he had no idea what to do with kids. Goofing around with them was fun, but what about the other ninety-nine percent of life? There was too much he didn’t even understand.
Yet no matter how hard he tried to avoid the idea or push it away, it just landed inside of him and hung on. What did he do with that? Not to mention that no matter what Easton feared, the Barlows were in the process of adopting them. It could be final before he got back.
That was a good thing. Then why did the idea stab something inside of him? He didn’t want to adopt just any kids. Easton, Alani, and Tyce had opened his heart like never before. He was growing to love them, no doubt about it. Tyce’s enthusiasm for life, Alani’s sweet tenderness, the glimmers of hope he saw in Easton’s eyes. Logan knew it was foolish to think he was the only person who could be there for them, but he truly believed he could be the key to unlock the potential in them that their circumstances had buried. And maybe they were the key to unlocking how empty and narrow his life had become.
And if he did decide to adopt them, what did that mean for him and Devin? Ideally, Devin would round out the perfect picture, but what if that wasn’t what she wanted? What if he had to choose between her and the kids?
He’d spent the last year lamenting that love wasn’t for him. And with the way he’d left things with Devin, dating and marriage might never be in his future. But could he alone take on the kids? He was a mess. Because adoption took more than a thought. More than a willingness. He’d seen it firsthand with Luke and Hannah.
He would have to relocate closer to a school and…so many things he couldn’t even wrap his mind around. Because, frankly, what did he know about raising them?
The three across the table sat back as Linda picked up the contract. “Are there any other concerns you have?”
“No, that has addressed all the other issues.” It better have after four very long, tedious days of going back and forth. “Make that change and you have a deal.”
“Then welcome to the Summitstone Pictures family.” They all stood and shook his hand across the table. “We’ll have the final contract ready to sign here in the morning, along with a check for the advance agreed upon.”
After a few photos were taken, Logan made his way to the exit. Sandy walked in front of him, but Mark dropped into step with him as he approached the elevator. “I can’t believe you pulled that off. I told you the new look would help.”
Logan punched the button and waited. New look all right. He didn’t even recognize his reflection in the shiny brass doors. His hair had been trimmed up in a cut that cost more than a week’s worth of groceries. Then the guy had added streaks of color, but he was pretty sure he got ripped off on that. It looked the same to him. Just more expensive.
Sandy kept going on about how the light-blue button-down shirt drew out his eyes. Maybe. But at least the deep-brown leather coat was comfortable enough. Now the jeans? He’d never go back to his Levis. He didn’t know what rich-people brands did to the material, but the blue faded jeans that hung on his hips felt like butter. He could sleep in these things.
All this because he’d made the short connection in Chicago, but his bag had not. Not only that, but evidently it got separated from the tag, so who knew if he’d ever see it again? He shouldn’t have even put his phone in it, but his head had been a bit of a mess when he’d gotten to Grand Rapids. So Sunday’s preparation had been less about what he’d say and more about what he’d look like. Sandy had convinced him he needed a stronger appearance for these meetings. Maybe she was right, because he’d gotten all he wanted.
Except for his phone. He didn’t even have people’s numbers memorized. His family was used to his long bouts of silence, but he needed to call Devin. Then again, maybe their conversation was better left to when they could talk face-to-face.
As he pushed out of the building, photographers lined the fence, lifted their cameras, and started rapid-firing. “What’s that about?”
Sandy offered a dismissive wave. “I think they just hang out waiting for A-listers to walk out, and dressed like that, you look like an A-lister. They’re probably trying to figure out who you are.”
“How disappointing will it be when they realize they just have a picture of a small-town guy from Michigan?” He climbed into the limo that transported them back to the hotel.
After they all settled into the oversized car, Sandy and Mark exchanged a look. Now what?
“With this deal,” Mark began, “we need to solidify the plot of book four. Christina has been impressed with your work, although she said everything you’ve written since Rand took off back to Anathia is a bit lacking.”
