MAISY

As I sit in the car outside Logan's office I try to gather the courage to go inside, but haven't found it yet. The rain splatters against the windows and I my eyes scan the empty streets. The day is about as gloomy as the mood I'm in. One more hurdle though. One more hurdle and I'll have enough money to start my life over again and Maisy Jacobs will disappear again, hopefully for good this time.

I glance in the rearview mirror, a habit of mine, before focusing back in on myself. It's just a simple errand-- go inside, sign the remaining papers, and then walk out the door-- thirty minutes tops. My uneasy expression stares back at me from the rearview mirror. I'm not fooling anyone. This is gonna be painful.

I run the pad of my thumb underneath my bottom lip, fixing my smeared lipstick. I'm not sure why; after today, I'll never see Logan Stanfield again. The finality of that hits me and the emptiness I felt that day when I first ran away returns. I'm not sure why.

Until this week, Logan and I hadn't seen each other in years, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about him. The temptation has always been there. But really, all we had was that one night. I shouldn't be this upset at having to leave him behind again. I guess the fact that it's for good this time is what really hurts. There will be no coming back after this.

I twist my hair over to the side of my neck and stare through the foggy windshield, reminding myself that I can do this. It'll be like a Band-Aid; I'll rip it off fast. The Manila envelope is lying on the passenger seat and I pick it up. All I have to do is hand these over to Logan, then one more set of signatures, and I'm gone.

I make myself get out of the car, ignoring the rain as it falls down on me. All I think about is how the money will help, how it could change everything, and the next thing I know I'm sprinting across the street. I hold the Manila folder above my head, but it doesn't do much in keeping me dry. For what feels like the millionth time in the last twenty minutes, I curse myself again for not grabbing an umbrella. It looked like rain, but I was in such a daze when I packed up the house that I hardly noticed the weather.

I dash up the steps to Logan's office, take a deep breath, and push open the glass doors. Cool air greets me the moment I step inside and a smattering of goosebumps pop up over my wet skin. The sleeveless blouse I'm wearing clings to my body and I pull the wet fabric away from me, cringing as a drop of either rain or sweat works its way down the small of my back. I probably look like a mess.

The receptionist spots me standing there by the door and plasters on a sympathetic smile. "Can I help you?"

Letting go of my blouse, I smooth my sweaty palms down the front of my damp pencil skirt as I take an uncertain step forward. "I'm here to see Mr. Stanfield. I need to give him these." I lift the soggy envelope into view. "And I believe I need to sign another set of papers to finalize everything. I don't have an appointment though, but I was hoping he'd have some time..." I'm rambling now. I bring my lips together, sealing my mouth shut, before I make even more of an ass out of myself.

After the hassle I had trying to get in touch with Logan the first time around, I didn't even bother calling to set up an appointment this time. To be honest, I wasn't sure if Logan was going to make it difficult again. In fact, I wouldn't even be surprised if he handed the case off to another lawyer in the firm. Things between us were uncomfortable at best, add on the fact that he passed out on my couch and then bolted first thing in morning, and I think that says a lot. I figured if I just showed up he'd eventually have to see me, at least that was my plan, but right now I realize how stupid it was.

"I'll call back to his secretary and see if Mr. Stanfield is available," the receptionist tells me. "May I have your name?"

"Masiy Clar-" I almost say Clarke, it's been the name I've been going by for so long now that it's become a natural response whenever anyone asks, but then I think better of it. "Jacobs. Tell him Maisy Jacobs is here." I'm not sure if I'm intentionally trying to mess with Logan's head, or if it's just Maisy Jacobs who needs her goodbye, but it's the first thing that feels right in a long time.

As the receptionist picks up her phone and dials an extension, I pull my eyes from her and let them wander around the office. The space really is beautiful; I didn't notice the last time I was here. Of course, I was hungover the last time I was in this waiting room.

"No, Maisy Jacobs," the receptionist stresses. I peek back over at her and she lowers her voice. "Shauna she's standing right here in front of me. She told me her name herself." The corner of my mouth stings as I fight off a smile. Logan's poor secretary must so frazzled. Between the two of us, the poor girl had been put through the ringer these last few days.

"Fine." There's a pause. "Yes. I'll tell her." When I hear her hang up the phone I turn back around expecting bad news.

"I'm sorry Ms. Jacob's. Mr. Stanfield is in a meeting right now." I nod my head, trying to block out the bitterness that's filling me. "But if you wouldn't mind waiting, his secretary said she could squeeze you in right after he's done. It shouldn't be too long."

My face is frozen. I'm not sure how long I'll make it waiting. Everything inside me is telling me to walk away. It might be a better idea just set up an appointment for tomorrow and call it a day. What little courage I'd gathered already feels as if it's beginning to slip away.

The glass door leading back to the offices opens up and pulls my attention. My mouth almost drops open as girl Logan was out with a few nights ago comes walking out. The girlfriend. I'd almost forgotten about her.

She looks just as sophisticated as she did the other night in tight, tan pants and a pair of heeled leather boots. A caramel sweater is wrapped around her but you can still make out her incredible body underneath. I hate the envy coursing through me right now, but it's there. This girl has everything that I could never have.

"Bye Dawn," the receptionist says, waving from her behind her desk.

Dawn. She has a name.

She turns and flashes a brilliant, white smile at the receptionist and for the first time seems to notice me standing there. Something flickers in her brown eyes as they sweep over me. Recognition maybe? I begin to squirm, painfully aware of the fact that she might know who I am and that I'm at a disadvantage here. She doesn't say anything though and I'm relieved. Instead she just waves to the receptionist and heads for the door. I watch her as she pulls out an umbrella out of her purse. From a superficial standpoint the girl is pure perfection, and even though I know Logan deserves someone like that a twinge of jealousy has already been sparked inside me. She opens the door and steps out into the rain. I'm being irrational, I know that, but I can't seem to help it.

I stare at the door as I think about Logan's life. Everything appears perfect. The job. The girlfriend. But his behavior last night...

I walk over to the plush couches on the other side of the room and perch on the edge of one. Logan was wasted last night. He was angry, like he hadn't been able to let go of the past. I know I disappeared and that couldn't have been easy on him, and I'm sure he always wondered what happened to me, but I never expected him to be so affected by it. It just makes me feel all the more guilty.

A moment later the phone beeps. I try to eavesdrop on the hushed conversation between the receptionist and who I'm hoping is Logan's secretary, but it's over before I can make anything out. "Ms. Jacobs?" I lift my head. "Mr. Stanfield will see you now."

I stand up and take in a reluctant breath, scrambling to hold onto what's left of my confidence. The door between the offices and reception opens again and I recognize Logan's secretary as she walks through. The color on her cheeks and her apologetic expression tells me she remembers me too.

"Ms. Jacobs. I'm so sorry for the mix up the other day. I'm glad everything worked out and you managed to get the papers." Her eyes drop down to the envelope in my hand before raising up to me. "I was able to squeeze in some time for you with Mr. Stanfield between meetings. If you'll just follow me." She hardly pauses and her nervous energy only serves to fuel mine. Gulping, I nod my head and follow as she leads the way back through the doors and down the long corridor to Logan's office. My high heels don't make a sound on the thick carpeting but with each step my apprehension begins to weigh me down.

My left hand tremors with built up emotion and my right hand grasps onto the manila envelope for dear life. A huge part of me wants to turn around and get the hell out of here. No matter how much I try to convince myself that I can do it, seeing Logan again might just be the end of me. The emotions that surface when I'm around him, the feelings... I'm not used to that. His secretary opens his office door before I even have time to make a decision and the next thing I know she's standing there, waiting for me to move. I stare up at her, my face not doing a very good job at hiding my misgivings, but still, I step inside.

And there he is, sitting behind a large, formidable looking desk, looking even more handsome than before. He's in suit again, something I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing. He looks successful, confident, and powerful. It's almost as if last night never happened. I feel myself beginning to shrink in his presence, suddenly intimidated.

"Maisy." Logan greets me with a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Logan," I mumble back, hardly able to look at him as I stiffly lower myself down in the chair across on the their side of his desk.

"Thank you Shauna. That will be all ." He speaks over my head to the secretary and I hear the door shut behind her as she leaves. It's just the two of us now and the tension is crackling. His anger is palpable and my nerves are all-consuming. Everything that's not being said is flooding the room and I feel like I'm choking on it. I keep my head down, place the envelope on his desk, and slide it across the shiny surface over to him.

"Everything's signed."

He doesn't say anything and I wish I had the courage to look at him. I wish I had some clue as to what he was feeling. Logan picks up the envelope and I picture him thumbing through the papers, checking to make sure that I haven't missed anything. I haven't. I made sure of it.

"Okay." He clears his throat and I finally stare up at him. He's not looking at me though. Instead he's shuffling the papers and stacking them on his desk. "Everything seems to be in order here. You just have to sign these last two pages and then it'll be a done deal."

"And when will the money be deposited in my account?"

I know how I sound. The look on Logan's face confirms it. But the money is the only reason I'm here. I would've never voluntarily returned and subjected myself to all this, not for someone like my father.

Logan pushes a pen towards me, almost like he's going out of his way to avoid any physical contact. "It should be available to you in 3-5 business days."

I nod my head and pick up the pen, swallowing around the lump lodged in my throat at his cool tone. My signature is shaky and rough at best, but it's difficult to concentrate when I know Logan is just a couple feet away from me, dissecting my every move. When I'm finished with the last one, I place the pen on top of the papers and slid them back over to him.

He flips through the pages again and adds his signature next to mine before dropping the pen on his desk and pushing them away. He looks up at me. His face is impassive but his eyes are flaming with whatever it is he's holding back, because I know Logan enough to know that he is holding something back. "That's it then," he says.

The words almost don't make sense coming out of his mouth. There's a finality to them that twists my stomach. I'm at a loss for words. There's so much I wish I could say, but I know I never will. I wouldn't do that, not to Logan. I look around his office and take in his life in one last time.

"Maisy..." My eyes dart back over to him and his eyebrows burrow together as if he's struggling to find the right words. "I'm sorry about last night. I acted like a dick. I had no right to say the things I said to you, and I hate that you had to deal with me like that."

"Do you get like that often?" He shoots me a look, clearly letting me know that it isn't any of my business, and although he may be right, I ignore it. "I asked you last night but you never answered me."

Logan places his elbows on his massive desk and leans forward. That scent that only belongs to him lingers over me and I remember how I secretly breathed him in last night when he passed out on my couch. His eyes narrow and he glowers.

"Are you asking if I'm an alcoholic Maisy?"

I'm not sure if I am. I just want an explanation for his behavior last night. I stare right back at him and wait for one, but he doesn't bend. A smile stretches out across his face and he breaks out laughing, but it sounds nothing like I remember.

"That's not how this is going to work. You don't get to know things about me, or ask questions about my life. You're the one who made those rules."

I'm being hypocritical, I'm aware of that, but I still hate that he's calling me on it. My eyes harden into a glare. This is not the boy I remember. My Logan Stanfield doesn't exist anymore either, at least not the way I once knew him.

I push the chair I'm sitting in out and stand up. "So that's it then?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from betraying me. "Everything's all set?" Logan nods his head, his face not giving anything away. It's steely, cold perfection, like a marble statue.

"Good." I nod back at him, pushing away the pain working its way in and threatening to tear what's left of me apart.

I start for the door, stopping as I place my hand on the knob and turning back to look at him one last time. I probably shouldn't. It'd be smarter to remember him as the boy that he was, not the man I don't know anymore.

"Maisy." His voice makes every muscle inside me tense. "Regardless of everything. I'm honestly just relieved to know that you're okay. I'm glad I got to see that with my own eyes."

Those eyes he's speaking about soften for the first time since I've seen him again and for a moment I get a glimpse of the old Logan and my heart just about breaks. "I'm glad you're okay too Logan," I whisper as I turn my body back towards the door.

The tears I've been holding back are screaming to be released. I pull open the heavy door, hating each step I feel compelled to take. There's a small part of me hoping he'll stop me. I'm not sure why or where it comes from, but hate the disappointment that I feel when he doesn't.

I reach the reception area and give a tight smile to the girl who helped me earlier before hurrying out of the building and back out into the rain. I drink in the warm air. The rain is pouring down on me and I'm soaked in minutes, but that's the least of my problems right now. Trying to catch my breath, I will my tears away, but it doesn't work anymore. As soon as I hit the pavement, the first tear breaks free and then the others follow. By the time I reach my car I'm not even attempting to hold them back anymore.

I have no idea why Logan gets to me like he does. I have no idea why I allow him to. I've been with other men over the last few years; no one serious, not since Eli, and no one who brought me that same sense of comfort that I felt that night with Logan. There's been no one who's lured out the need I felt when his mouth was on mine. I used to think that if I had just slept with him that night maybe he would be out of my system by now, because as it stands our relationship only exists frozen in that moment. It was a moment of pleasure where possibilities still existed. Other times though, I know sleeping with him would've been a mistake. It would've just have complicated everything further, if that were even possible.

Right now though, I wish I'd never met Logan Stanfield at all. I wipe the rain and tears from my face, picturing the hurt in his eyes and my heart fills with guilt again as I fumble for my keys, the rain making everything more difficult. It's not until I finally get them into the lock that I notice my tires. The air gushes right out of lungs and the keys fall from my hand as I stumble back. This can't be happening, not now. My head swivels around and I scan the streets and sidewalks looking for someone, although I'm not sure who. The panic starts to bubble up inside me and a familiar adrenaline rushes through my body as my blood starts furiously pumping.

I hear my name being called but it sounds far off. The noise of the street has been sucked away like a vacuum and all I hear is the beat of my own heart thundering through my eardrums. A cold sweat breaks out over my body and the world suddenly seems a lot smaller, scarier. A hand drops down onto my shoulder and fear bursts through me as I spin around and throw my body back against my car.

My eyes are wild and it takes me a moment to register Logan there in front of me, but when I do I'm panting like a madwoman. My gaze skittishly searches the streets again, waiting for something to happen. Tears are pouring down my face but thankfully they're camouflaged by the raindrops dripping over me.

"Maisy, what's going on? Are you okay? What the hell happened to your car?" Logan's questions come at such a rapid fire that I can't keep up with them.

"T-th t-tires-" I manage to stammer. Logan's eye sweep down to the four slashed tires and then back up to me. He takes a step forward, lifting the umbrella he's holding over the both of us but hesitantly, like he's afraid I'm going to bolt if he moves too fast.

"Jesus. I'm sorry about that. This can be a crappy neighborhood sometimes." He puts an arm around me and I'm too numb to even feel it as he begins to lead me back across the empty street. "Why don't you come back in the office and we'll call a tow truck."

Shaking my head, I twist free from him and begin walking in the other direction. I know I look ridiculous storming off in the rain in my high heels, but I also know that I don't have the time to care. "I need to get out of here."

"Maisy!"

I ignore Logan. I must seem irrational to him right now, but I've got bigger problems to deal with. My brain is going a million miles a minute as I try to figure out what to do next. I have to get out of here, but I need my car to do that. The bus maybe? But then what?

Logan's catches up to me in a matter of seconds, covering me with the umbrella once again. "Maisy, where are you going? Why don't you just come back inside?" I don't answer him and he throws his hand up in the air and then stops waking, letting me continue on in the rain on my own.

"Fine! You don't want to come inside, that's fine."

He goes to walk away but I can't help myself from stopping him. Logan doesn't understand the mess I'm in. He doesn't know anything about me really. He's just trying to help.

"Logan!" I call out to him and his dark hair falls over his forehead as he turns back to me. His eyes are fiery, burning with annoyance, confusion, and worst of all, pain. I forget everything else for a moment and just brand this image of him into my head. Even right now, as angry as he is, Logan is a sight to behold standing there in the rain with his expensive dress shirt plastered to his body. He's removed the suit jacket he was wearing earlier and has loosened his tie.

"I need a ride."

The request comes out weak, more like a plea for help, and Logan's face instantly changes. I hate that. I hate that I'm using him and I hate that he's so willing to help me after all that I've done.

A plan hasn't even begun to fully formulate in my head, but I know I need to think of something fast. My first priority though, is to get off the streets and find somewhere safe to think. I stare into Logan's eyes and let out a small sigh of relief when he finally nods his head.

"My car's over here." He digs into the pocket of his suit pants as he turns and heads towards his car. I duck my head and follow behind him, stopping at my car to get my bag from the trunk. Logan frowns when he sees it.

I glance over my shoulder to see if we're being followed, but don't spot anything suspicious. Eight years ago when I walked to the park with Logan, I didn't sense that things were about to go bad, but walking with him now... I can feel the danger around us and can only hope to get away from him before anything happens.