Paris was surprised that no press had shown up the rest of Sunday, or Monday, for that matter. Even stranger, her father stayed and helped Logan with the boat all morning. She went for a run, and made them sandwiches, and then turned to composing.

For three hours she sat at the piano and the ideas poured out of her. At one point she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. Logan was back in her life and so was the flow of creativity she’d always had.

When she went out to the boat, she smiled because she heard her father telling Logan something else about one of the games he’d played in. It was funny that her father hardly took a breath, acting like Ty when he wanted to tell her something.

“How’s it coming, gentleman?” She put the plates on the side of the boat next to the steering wheel.

Logan wiped off a part of the pump. “Well, there’s this wire that doesn’t seem to want to connect.” He smiled at her and took a sandwich, wolfing it down in two bites.

She laughed. “Glad to see you’re still a pig.”

“Did that ever change?” he said through a mouthful of food. He washed it down with a drink of the water.

She and her dad both laughed. It was weird and sort of wonderful to see them like this. To see Logan like this. A strange sort of fear had been growing bigger and bigger inside her chest. He would “wake up.” Right? He would remember everything, and then … She didn’t want to think about it. The selfish part of her liked this Logan. She liked them all being together.

“You sounded good in there,” Logan said, trying to act nonchalant.

Their eyes held for a moment.

“Sure did.” Her dad kept working on a boat part, not looking at them.

Looking away, Paris let out a shaky breath. It was so strange that Logan was back in her life, and that she was able to compose again.

Logan winked at her, but gave her a look from a long time ago that said, What’s wrong?

She shook her head and felt her phone buzz. Pulling it out, she assumed it would be Michelle, giving her updates. She’d used her hot spot and had been sending emails back and forth.

It was Shane.

“Hello,” she said quickly, her heart racing. She couldn’t imagine why he would call.

“Ty got hurt. We’re coming home early.”

She put a hand over her stomach. “What? How?”

“It’s fine, he cut his foot on the beach where we were snorkeling. He wasn’t wearing the swim shoes I told him to wear and touched some of the corral on the bottom.”

“Is he okay?” She turned away from Logan and her dad, who had both stopped working and were staring at her.

Shane sighed. “Yes, but we’re going to get off in Cancun and fly home. I just think the cut’s too deep. The ship doctor isn’t really experienced in doing surgery and I’m really not too keen on having it done in Mexico. I’ll keep you posted on details. I’m thinking we’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. We might have a doctor look at it in LA depending on how he’s doing.”

“Okay.” Her mind whirled. “Thanks for calling. Can I talk to him?”

A brief shuffling as the phone was past, and then she heard, “Hi, Mom.” His voice sounded brave, but she could tell that he was afraid.

“Hey, baby,” she said, trying to sound clear-minded and calm. “Dad said you hurt your foot. Are you okay?”

“I saw the coolest fish and then I felt a scratch almost like a claw on the bottom of my foot. It’s kinda deep.”

Paris bit her lip. Shane wasn’t the type of dad who babied him, so it must be pretty bad. “Well, I bet you’re going to be just fine and Dad and Shari are taking good care of you.”

He giggled. “They’re letting me have all the ice cream I want.”

That made her feel better, to hear him laugh. She sucked in a breath and brushed away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. “That’s good, baby. You eat that ice cream.”

“I want you, Mommy.”

Another tear slipped out. “I know, baby, but listen. I’ll see you right when you get back. I’ll be at the airport waiting, okay? And I’ll bring Mr. Blankey.”

It’d been a thing, whether to take Mr. Blankey on the cruise or not. Ty had chosen not to because he could sense that his father thought he was too big for it. Now she was kicking herself that she hadn’t stuck it in his bag.

She could hear Shane in the background.

“Daddy says I have to go. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too.” Even though she didn’t want to, she knew her voice sounded desperate. She pushed end and sucked in a breath, without turning to face Logan or her father.

“Is he okay?” her dad asked.

Turning, she pushed past them before her churning emotions could break loose. “No, he’s hurt and he’s coming home. But it’s going to take two days. They might have to do surgery; the cut is pretty bad.” She climbed out of the boat and rushed to the house, hating the fact she couldn’t stop the sobs from taking hold of her.

A couple of hours later, she sat in her room, her ear buds in, working on her hot spot, scrolling through all the activities and the checklist of things Michelle had sent her an hour ago. Country music blared into her ears and she tried to drown herself in her work.

She hated thinking of Ty hurt and her not being there. Not being able to do something. She should be the one on that vacation with Ty, not Shane.

Guilt nagged her. Here she was, hanging out with the ex-boyfriend, while they were gone. She could only imagine how it would go down between Logan and Shane if Logan was still around. No, no, no. She was a mother. She had to put Ty first. She could not be involved with Logan. Ty needed her.

There were still some details that had to be taken care of, so she finished drafting an email to Michelle. She may have to go in to work, but she didn’t want to. The hunt for Logan had grown stronger. Honestly, she couldn’t believe someone from the church hadn’t ratted him out.

There was a knock on her bedroom door and she jumped. Yanking her ear buds out, she stood. “Yeah,” she said as she threw open the door.

Her dad was next to the door. “You okay?”

Tears threatened again, but she pushed them down. “I should be there. I should … I should be with my son.”

Her dad took her into his arms and held her as she cried.

She saw Logan coming in through the sliding glass door. Their eyes met, and she pulled back from her father. “I’m going to finish up some work, okay?”

Her father glanced at Logan, then back to her. “I’m going to take Logan to get some pizza. We’re not going to stay to eat, just pick up. We'll be back in half an hour.”

“Okay.” She was grateful for her father, for him sensing what she needed. All of her was so confused.

Sitting down, she forced herself to focus. Work. She and Michelle kept emailing each other until finally Michelle called.

“Hey.”

“You said in your last email you couldn’t talk about it, but Logan was staying with you. So you need to spill your guts about the ex.”

Paris flinched, especially on the heels of Ty’s accident. “Look, don’t call him that.”

“He is that.”

“No, he is a man who owns the company that hired our company to plan the All-Stars event. He lost his memory, so he’s here for awhile, but after the event, he’ll be leaving.”

“Will he?” Michelle asked.

“Yes,” she insisted.

“Okay, look, I don’t know what’s gone on between the two of you. All you’ve told me via email is that you had to host him or he threatened to fire us. So I get that, but c’mon, Paris, I’ve seen you the past couple of years. There’s been something, I don’t know what it is, but since the divorce you haven’t been happy. No, it was before the divorce, I noticed there was something missing. Maybe this is it. Maybe you’re being given another chance.”

“Don’t.” She couldn’t entertain this. Granted, Michelle knew a lot of their past, but Paris didn’t want to repeat their mistakes.

“This might be your chance for happiness, Paris. Are you willing to give that up?”

“He’s going to wake up!” she exploded. “They always do. Don’t you watch those silly amnesia movies or read those books? They always remember and it falls apart.”

Michelle was silent for a few seconds. “And, if I remember correctly, then it usually works out.”

“Shut up,” Paris said, then winced. She didn’t typically like that phrase, and she’d been saying it more than usual. “I’m sorry.”

Michelle sighed. “It’s okay. Well, I guess this latest news will make you happy, then.”

She braced herself. “What’s gone wrong?”

“We got to get you on the ground to deal with this Montana Crew contract. Man, he’s being such a baby about everything. You know how we’re supposed to host the gallery show and have all the football players there?”

“Oh, you mean the one Summer James has been putting together?”

“Yeah, well, Sterling Pennington is getting all possessive of her paintings, which doesn’t bode well with Hunter James, who is threatening to pull her stuff from the whole night.”

“What?” Those two men had egos larger than the Grand Canyon. “You wouldn’t know what good friends they are by how hard they make everything.” Paris smiled, thinking of how they were like squabbling girls sometimes and you had to have the right touch to handle them. It usually involved getting Summer and Sayla involved to help deal with them.

“It seems Montana’s getting a whole group of All-Stars all riled up about how Logan may not be there. You know it will fall apart if he’s not there.”

“He’ll be there,” she assured Michelle.

“Well, it seems they want to talk to you, in person, at Sterling Pennington’s gallery tomorrow at eleven.”

“No, my son is coming to the airport and I have to be there.”

“O-kay,” Michelle said slowly. “I can go, but Montana is pretty insistent you’re there. In person.”

“Too bad.” Bratty, babied famous people, thinking they could dictate everything in their life. When Michelle didn’t say anything, though, Paris deflated. “Fine, I’ll be there for an hour. Hopefully I can make it to the airport to meet Ty.”