Across Eternity (3 page)

For over forty minutes they talked. Their voices blended into the soft hum
of the dinner crowd as they acquainted themselves with each other. Conversation
flowed effortlessly and the unreserved looks and smiles, which passed between
them, were unspoken words in themselves.

They talked about everything—because it was so easy—the latest
headlines, movies, books, and their lives. They laughed at each other and with
each other and to them it all seemed so natural.

Amber learned that Logan’s mom, younger sister, and nephew, lived four
hundred and fifty miles north in his hometown of Napa Valley. His mom still
lived in the house in which he was raised and his sister and her son, who was
six, lived just a few miles down the road.

"Do you see them much?" she asked, turning her head as the
gentle breeze caught dark strains of hair and blew them across her eyes.

"Yes, fortunately I do. Time permitting, they come and visit every
other weekend."

"They drive all the way down twice a month?"

"No, they don’t drive. I have a small plane that I have them
flown down in. It’s really a quick trip." He sipped his water.
"Kevin, my nephew, loves it."

"I bet he does. What kid wouldn’t love
his own
little private plane?"

"Yes, I’m sure that’s part of it. However, the pilot
usually indulges him and allows him to sit up front. That’s what he
really enjoys. He has aspirations to be a pilot some day."

"I can only imagine."

"Have you ever flown?"

"Yes, when I was younger. I believe we were flying back to Missouri
from my grandma’s funeral. I couldn’t have been more than six or
seven so I was in awe of the whole experience." She smiled. "But it
wasn’t in a private plane." She rolled her eyes as if it was an
inconvenience. "If you can imagine, we had to ride with a whole bunch of
other people."

"Don’t you just hate that," he said with a smirk.

"Are you a pilot?"

"No I’m not. Though I love to fly and travel. Perhaps when my
nephew gets a little older he’ll be able to fly the family down. That
would be exciting."

"I don’t mean to sound so surprised but it really seems like
you’re close with them."

"We are. They are a great support system for me. And though it might
not be as normal as most others families, we really get along and enjoy each
other’s company. There’s not much drama between us."

"And your dad," she inquired.

"He died when I was young." He so desperately wanted to tell her
that she had been there when his father had died. He wanted her to know that
she had stayed with him an entire week never leaving his side. He could only
hope now that she was near him the memories would start coming back. He had
promised her he would help her remember. It was a promise he intended to keep.

"Your mom never remarried?"

"No. After he passed she was completely focused on raising my sister
and me. When I was older I asked her why she never dated. She had just shrugged
her shoulders indifferently and said that she wasn’t interested in
dating." He glanced up, acknowledging—with a quick
nod—someone as they walked by the table. "She was young,
attractive, and financially stable but she never even went out. There were men
who were interested but she never reciprocated."

"Maybe she just never found anyone to fill his shoes."

"I think it was more that she knew no one ever could."

"Since you’re so close why don’t you live near them? Is it
your work that keeps you here?"

He shook his head. "Not really. My work can be done from almost
anywhere." He lifted his shoulders. "It just fits." Now he
knew why it fit. It was because she was there.

"Yes, I know what you mean."

Logan glanced up curiously.
"How so?"

"Nothing is really keeping me here, but it feels right to stay so I
do. Trust me, I can think of way cheaper places to live, but this is
home." She glanced toward the dark ocean. "Besides I couldn’t
think of a more beautiful place to live. And I love the ocean and the amazing
weather here."

"Were you born and raised in Dana Point?"

"No just south of here in Oceanside.
My dad
worked at Camp Pendleton for a while."

"Is he a Marine?"

She shook her head. "He worked in maintenance at the naval hospital.
My sister and I moved here after we graduated from high school. Through a
friend of a friend we were able to get a great deal on an apartment so we
couldn’t pass it up."

God, she was beautiful, Logan thought as he stared at her. Her chin was
casually propped on her hands, her elbows rested on the table and the most
amazing look was on her face. His gaze was drawn to her lips when she spoke,
enjoying the way her mouth moved. She smiled incessantly and he adored her for
it. She had come to him like this in his dreams—beautiful, smiling, and
happy.

When he was ten he had missed her terribly—her absence had left a hole
in him. He had tried to find solace in the fact that she was here, but the
loneliness had been heartbreaking. When he was fifteen it was to the point it
was unbearable. Then out of the blue one glorious night he had dreamt of her.
Those dreams had come when he had needed them most.

He would never forget that night because it not only broke five agonizing
years of not seeing her, but when he had dreamt of her she was a woman.
A beautiful, grown woman whom he knew intimately.
It was the
first time he had
wanted
her and it was the first time he knew she was
more than just his best friend.

It had taken him weeks and several books on reincarnation to figure out what
his dreams were all about. He believed he was seeing her in past lives they had
shared together because she changed each time she appeared. Sometimes she had
blond hair and other times she was a brunet. Her eyes could be blue but just as
often they could be green and brown too. At times she was passive and quiet and
others she was strong-willed and animated. She always changed. And every change
brought him pleasure.

At night he couldn’t wait to see the different women she had been and
the lives they had shared. Without fail, every life they had spent together he
had loved her deeply. Being able to see her and all they had shared like this
brought him comfort and restored his confidence that he would find her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Amber asked him softly.

He cleared his throat. "I’m in awe." His fingers rested
against his temple as he watched her intently. "I just can’t get
over how great…this…you…how great all this is."

Though she didn’t make a verbal attempt to reply to his comment, Logan
knew she understood what he was talking about by the way she dipped her head
momentarily and then raised her gaze to meet his eyes. The shy gesture
wasn’t because she was unsure. It was because she felt it too.

Glancing down at the empty table he asked. "Would you like to order
something? Are you hungry?"

"No."

"How about a drink?"
He looked around
for the server. "Does wine or champagne sound good?"

Amber shook her head. "No, I’m fine."

"Please, tell me more about you."

And she did.

Logan discovered that she was quick-witted, easy to talk to, and so friendly
you couldn’t help but like her. Her fun-loving nature was infectious and
he found himself fighting the impulse to smile continuously and restraining
himself from touching her. She was all he’d hoped for and more.

He felt like a horse chomping at the bit. He wanted to tell her that they
belonged together—that they had been together hundreds of times before.
That he had dreamed about her for most of his life but it was too soon. Patience
would be difficult but he knew the importance of timing.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off by telling her things she
wasn’t ready to hear. Besides, all that could wait. He was enjoying the
moment and all they were sharing. He would know when the appropriate time would
come—she would let him know she was ready. 

Though it wasn’t that surprising, Amber thought Logan was a great
conversationalist. She enjoyed his perspective on an array of different topics.
He seemed to have an interest in everything. And to her delight, he listened
well and never avoided any subject. A few times she thought she’d catch
him off guard but he just rolled with it and steered the conversation wherever
she wanted it to go.

As he continued to tell her about himself, she drank up all the information.
He was a successful businessman. However he liked to think of himself as
semi-retired because he had turned most of the day-to-day operations over to
his associates. He took pleasure in the outdoors, which he claimed his father
taught him to love. Hiking and sailing were his favorite activities, but he
also enjoyed taking in a play or going to a museum. He didn’t care for
cooking, he liked his coffee strong, and he enjoyed a good bottle of wine.

Despite their obvious differences in social class and age, to Amber’s
surprise, he made her feel comfortable and at ease. She liked that about him.
Actually, she couldn’t picture feeling any other way around him.

She was guessing he was around ten years her senior. The crow’s-feet
feathering out from his eyes, the visible creases across his brow, and his
strong jaw line might be tacking on a few extra years, but she wasn’t
sure. His beautifully, tanned skin also gave him an air of older masculinity—like
he’d weathered many years. He reeked of influence yet she didn’t
think he had an arrogant bone in his body.

His physical appearance, which she was so obviously drawn to, wasn’t
the only attraction she felt. It was more than just his looks that pulled her
in. It went deeper. It was the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he
looked at her. It was the quietness about him that captured her attention. He
was modest and giving—a deep man who seemed to wear his true feelings on
his sleeve. There were no pretenses to which he hid behind and she found it
very refreshing.

Since she’d been working at the restaurant, she’d noticed a
pattern with men who had money. They had a holier than thou attitude emanating
from them. They wore expensive clothes and drove fancy cars and sadly that was
pretty much what constituted them. Amber called them money-grubbers and she
knew that while most of them were not putting up a false front of success, if
you were to dig deeper you’d find they were hollow and lacked a sense of
self.

Logan was extraordinary because he belonged nowhere near those types of men.
He was in a class all his own simply because he wasn’t like the others.

"So you’re a businessman?" she asked.

"
It’s
how I earn a living but I devote
very little of my time to business. It’s not a title that I claim."

"Why?"

"For me, business is really an uncomplicated job. It’s an easy
way to make money. I like to put my energy into things that are a little more
elusive and challenging." He smiled a quiet smile. "You seem
surprised."

"Frankly, I am." She glanced around at the men in the room who
were wearing expensive suits and drinking even more expensive whisky.
"Most of these men are entrepreneurs of some sort." She looked back
to him. "Would you agree?"

He glanced around and nodded. "Yes."

"You have everything they have."

"Monetarily, yes," he agreed.

"How did you become so different?"

With a slight smile he asked, "You think I’m different?"

"Absolutely.
You are nothing like
them."

"I’m glad you noticed." He watched her for a long moment before
he finally said, "Most of these men want to dominate something. They
control with their power, or their money, or even their intelligence, which is
all part of the industry and most likely what made them successful. However, I
have no desire to do that."

"But yet you’re still successful," she pointed out.

"Fortunately I am." He winked. "When I opened my first
business and success was imminent, my mom pulled me aside and told me
"now no
actin
’ ugly". She shook her
finger at me when she said it, too."

Amber laughed in surprise as he waved his finger in front of her. "I
like that."

"As you might imagine, my mom has no use for complexity. She can
convey more in a simple phrase than in a thousand words. Don’t get me
wrong, she’s extremely animated and loveable but she never wanted us to
get too full of ourselves no matter how successful my sister or I
became."

"Well, I think they are words we can all live by. Besides, no one
should strut around like they are better than someone else. We should treat
people the way we want to be treated."

"I agree. It’s very rare that I act ugly." He grinned a
little. "And when I do, I like to think it’s because I have a good
reason. What words of wisdom did your mother pass on to you?"

She looked away from him, quiet as she glanced out into the breeze and the
darkness. "The sage advice I received was not near as wise as your
mom’s. Actually, I can’t remember any good advice that she ever
gave me."

Logan stared at her quietly in the weak candlelight.

"She was much too wrapped up in herself to bother."

"You seem like you did well without it," he said softly.

Amber looked back at him. "I muddled my way through, though it would
have been nice to have that guidance to fall back on. She did really good
things for other people from time to time but she just never extended that to
me." She shrugged her shoulders. "I’m not sure why but now
that I am older I realize that she just didn’t have it in her to give to
me."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. I got over it a long time ago."

"Some people do the best they can and still fall short," he
offered.

She nodded in agreement. "I think she fits into that category. I guess
in a way it’s a comfort to know she did her best." Reluctantly, she
looked down at her watch. "I don’t want to do this—"

"Then don’t."

"I have to. My shift is going to end soon," she pointed out.
"Rachael and Sandy have been covering my tables and I think it’s
best if I get back to work."

"I understand."

"And there is no telling how much trouble I’m going to be in
with Mr. Hendricks."

"You won’t be in any trouble," he replied confidently.

"Well, if I am," she insisted seriously. "I’d like
to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. I don’t want to have
to be here all night. Besides, I should really relieve the girls of my tables.
It’s not fair to have them cover for me like this."

Logan nodded in agreement as a flash of understanding lit his eyes. "I
guess all good things must come to an end."

"Yes, they do." Amber stood and then smiled when Logan stood
too. "I’ve had a very enjoyable time."

"I have too," Logan said.

"And if I do end up getting reprimanded for it, it was entirely worth
it," she said with a slight laugh.

"That’s good to know." He extended his hand to her.

When she took his hand an odd sensation moved through her. It was unusual
because it was familiar yet at the same time it was foreign. She knew what it
felt like to hold his hand but she couldn’t fathom how she knew this.
After all they had shared she thought the handshake was too formal. A hug was
what she really wanted. Heck, she wanted to throw her arms around him in a
tight embrace that was meant for a long lost friend who had just been
rediscovered—but she didn’t have the nerve to initiate it. If she
held him she knew she wouldn’t ever want to let him go.

She wanted to ask if she would see him again but she couldn’t bring
herself to speak the words. "Good night," she said softly. Turn and
walk away she told herself. She found that she didn’t want to leave the
beautiful cocoon that they had spun around themselves. In fact, she could have
easily sat there and talked with him the entire night.

Her hand swept across her stomach trying to ease the sudden fluttering. What
if I never see him again? What if he walks out the door and that’s it. Could
she go through life wondering?

"Is there something you’d like to say?" Logan asked.

"No."

He reached for his coat and slipped it on. Come on, Amber, just tell me you
remember. He desperately wanted to hear her say she remembered him. He knew it
wouldn’t be that easy but he secretly hoped that it would be. "Are
you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Good night, Amber." He turned, took a few steps, and then
looked over his shoulder at her. "Thank you for indulging me."

She raised her hand suddenly. "Wait."

He stopped.

Amber shook her head quickly. "Never mind, it’s nothing."
She smiled weakly. "Have a good night, Logan."

"I already have."