Page 92 of Sapphire Sunset

“Especially since you’re probably boning him,” his dadadded.

“Dad! I swear to God. You’re really lucky I respect oldpeople.”

“Elders.The word is elders, son.”

“Honestly.”

“What? You think I’m an idiot. You practically sprouted woodthe other day when you saw him on TV.”

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Logan said, practically bringingtheir noses together. “If you want to live through your special night, you andI don’t say another word to each other until we’ve both eaten a meal. A full one.”

Linda, a natural mother, it seemed, stepped forward. “Ithink that sounds like a wonderful idea, boys.”

“I already ate,” Chip grumbled.

“I haven’t,” Logan growled through gritted teeth.

“All right, the nice lady has spoken,” Chip said, indicatinghe was agreeing to it because Linda had approved it, not because Logan hadsuggested it.

Nobody else spoke as they rode up in the elevator.

Nobody spoke as they walked the long, carpeted corridortoward the double doors to the penthouse suite.

He texted Connor they were on their way when really what hewanted to text was,Run like hell. I’ll meet you in Mexico.

Joel was standing guard outside the suite as Logan hadinstructed. He nodded and stepped aside so Logan could do his special knock.The door opened, and he gestured for the group to step through ahead of him,which they did, one after the other. Heads bowed, arms at their sides, like newconvicts entering prison for the first time.

When he stepped inside the room, he realized theircollective silence had shifted from awkward to stunned.

The penthouse suite was filled with flickering candles, thedining table set with the hotel’s most formal place settings. Two white-tux-cladservers stood at the ready, and the terrace doors were open to the warm night.The same hot winds that were fueling the fire to their east made for agorgeously clear, starry sky above the ocean outside. But it wasn’t the room’sdécor and illumination that had stunned the group silent. It was the fact thatsomehow Connor had managed to get ahold of the original, framed sign for thefirst Chip’s Kicks, the one that typically hung in Chip’s office, and he’d hungit on the wall above the credenza, in a spot formerly occupied by a blandwatercolor seascape. But the old sign wasn’t the only addition.

All the artwork on the walls had been replaced with framedmementoes Connor had somehow managed to obtain from Chip’s office and Logan’sapartment, the latter probably thanks to the fact that J.T., Brandon, and Scottall had keys. The pin lights that once sent halos of warm light acrosssailboats on wind-tossed seas, seashells, and other beachy scenes nowilluminated framed photographs marking the growth of Chip’s Kicks. Logan was insome of the shots, but mostly they featured his dad posing with varioustrainers and clients over the past five years. And if all that weren’t enough,atop the credenza and flanked by two vases bulging with roses, was the mostspecial photograph in Logan’s life, a framed picture of his mother and his dad,beaming as they cradled a newborn Logan.

And there, standing at the head of the table, beneath aminiature cloudscape of mylar balloons, beaming with pride, was Connor. Abovehis head, the largest balloons were letters spelling outCHIP’S KICKS.

In a daze, Chip walked toward the framed photograph on thecredenza, magnetically drawn to the sight of Logan’s mom. He picked it up andgazed at it. All traces of the ornery bastard from the lobby were gone. After afew moments, Connor stepped toward him, hand extended.

“Congratulations on five years, Mr. Murdoch.”

Still stunned, Logan’s dad shook Connor’s hand. “This is reallysomething, kid.” There was a catch in his dad’s voice. “You really did a thinghere.”

“How could I not?” Connor asked. “It’s your special day.”

“Well, shit. Now I feel like crap’causeI was a huge dick to Logan on the way here.”

“Well,” Connor said, “if it helps, he didn’t actually know Iwas going to all this trouble.”

Chip barked with laughter. It proved infectious, claimingJed and Petey and Linda too.

“Is that true, son?” Chip asked. “You didn’t know about allthis?”

“Not the pictures, no,” Logan answered.

“All right. I feel half as shitty then.”

Logan felt about as far from shitty as you could get.

He knew. Connor had read his mind, sensed the bruise onLogan’s soul. He’d been able to tell that Logan had soft pedaled the wholedifferent worlds thing during their talk about tonight’s dinner earlier thatday. He’d sensed how much their different backgrounds, the gulf between theirso-called worlds, had frightened Logan five years ago. And how to a moremuffled, but still painful extent, it still frightened Logan now. And so he’dthrown open the doors of his special world to make Logan’s grumpy dad feel aswelcome as he could, but first he’d taken care to place Chip Murdoch himself,his achievements, his survival story, all through it.

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