19. The Wildlife

Logan

The stairs leading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art were something he had only seen in a coffee table book his father owned. Although past seven, it was light out, one of those long summer days. Logan’s shoes pinched his heels and slid when he walked as he watched Hunter’s every movement.

“Quit gawking,” Hunter whispered in his ear as he walked by, before taking a few steps forward to place a hand at the base of Erin’s back. Erin, in her backless, form-fitted black dress, looked over her shoulder and smiled at Logan. Attracting the most gorgeous women was never an issue for Hunter. Logan’s eyes narrowed before mustering a smile.

Simone appeared beside him and pursed her cherry-red lips, that contrasted her pale skin and short black hair. She looked like a supervillain from a James Bond movie and had the personality of a German soldier.

“So, what do you do for fun?” she asked as they walked behind Hunter and Erin, Neil, and his date behind them.

Logan bent his arm, so she’d dip hers between his. “I slice my corneas with razor blades whenever someone asks me that question.”

Her laugh surprised him. It was more like a wild cackle which made Hunter whip his head back. Logan laughed with her, ignoring him.

Upon entering the main hall, Simone saw someone she recognized and rushed over to them. Thank God. Hunter walked ahead as well, and Logan wondered how long it would take for him to notice he wasn’t behind.

A giant banner of a panda overhung the railing of the stairs.

“Wildlife preservation?” Logan said to himself, with a look of disgust on his face.

An older man in his fifties appeared beside him. “What cause would you prefer?”

Logan paused, not realizing how loudly he had said the words. “Well, I mean … we still have hungry children, homelessness is a huge problem, education can always use more funding, our literacy rates are atrocious, healthcare is in shambles. If you look across the globe, a good portion of the world has no clean water access, no access to maternal-fetal medicine, and malaria is very much a thing.”

The man’s gaze fell to Logan’s feet and rose up his body in a way that made him force a gulp. “Who are you here with?” he asked, darting his eyes around the area and then to Logan again.

Logan raised a brow. “Uh, why?” Do I stick out? Can they tell I didn’t buy this tux?

“We can’t solve all the world’s problems, baby,” Neil’s voice slithered in his left ear as he wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders, pulling him away. “Why you gotta get all political? These assholes only care about their pockets.”

Logan chuckled. “I didn’t realize we were at a Republican national convention.”

“Don’t be na?ve,” Neil said, letting go of Logan and slipping his hand around Katya’s waist. “Choosing sides is for the ninety-nine percent. The only color in this room is green.”

As Logan glanced around the room, the buzzing conversations seemed oblivious to the captivating artwork and amazing ancient architecture surrounding them. “What is it you guys do at these events?”

“We’re consultants. We network. Win business. We look good doing it.”

The room seemed too small to hold Neil’s ego, but Logan didn’t mind as they headed to the Egyptian Temple room that was set up as a banquet hall.

The world around him left Logan in awe, though he did his best to hide it. “The women you work with are pretty attractive.”

“By design,” Neil said, greeting someone with a nod. “Dogs don’t close deals.”

The words resonated with Logan as he wandered the space for twenty minutes before spotting Hunter with Erin, engaged deep in conversation with a cluster of men. All eyes fell on her, effortlessly captivating the attention of the group as she laughed and brushed her hands against their arms. He watched Hunter’s eyes wander around the room before locking with his from a distance for a moment and then had his attention pulled down by Erin. Hunter said a few words, and the group laughed.

When did he get funny? Fuck this place.

After waiting patiently for the small group to dissipate, he swept in and pulled Hunter by the elbow.

“Uh, hey,” Hunter said, looking around the room as if not wanting to be seen with him.

Logan hushed his tone. “Let’s get out of here. These shoes are killing me, I’m starving, and I swear that guy over there is about to call security on me because I pretty much said ‘fuck wildlife.’”

“What?” Hunter glanced over Logan’s shoulder at the man eyeing them. “That’s the V.P. Logan relax, just enjoy yourself. Do you want a drink?”

“No, I want to go. Seriously,” Logan said, looking at him expectantly for a response. “Fine, stay. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

Hunter pulled on his arm. “Wait. Give me thirty minutes, and if you still want to go, we’ll leave.”

A sigh huffed out of Logan’s mouth, making his shoulders drop.

Hunter grabbed a champagne flute off the tray of a passing waiter and handed it to Logan. “Here. Just relax a little. Chat with Neil.”

“I want to chat with you. Why’d you even bring me here?”

Erin popped in between them with her back to Logan and placed both hands on either side of his covered biceps. “Sorry,” she said, turning her head toward Logan. “We gotta go.”

“I’ll find you later, okay?” Hunter didn’t wait for a response before walking away, Erin on his arm.

Logan knew going to New York would be a bad idea. Hunter wasn’t the same anymore. He missed when it was just them. If Hunter got a job out here after college, he’d outgrow him for sure. It wasn’t Logan’s scene, and it never would be.