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Of the Past, the Present, and the Future

Chapter One: Of Eggs and Donors

"Hey there," Max said as she decided to make her presence known. She had been watching Logan work for several minutes before deciding to interrupt him.

"Hey yourself," Logan said spinning around in his chair and bestowing one of his heart-stopping smiles on Max.

"So, what is Mr. Eyes Only up to so early in the morning?" Max asked, pretending to look at a non-existent watch on her wrist.

"Nothing that he can't walk away from to make breakfast for a beautiful woman," Logan flushed as the words left his mouth. Did I really say that out loud?

Max smiled, unsure of how to respond but she decided not to listen to the warning klaxons going off in her head and go with the flow. "Beautiful, huh?"

"I'm certain you've been told that many times in your life, Max," Logan replied rolling past her to the kitchen.

"Yeah, but only the ones I get from you count," Max smiled, throwing Logan for a loop.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Logan asked, searching for an out. The conversation was growing to serious for early morning, and even though Max was playing the flirtation game Logan was afraid of spooking her.

Realizing that Logan had effectively put a stop to their little game of cat and mouse for now, she smiled. "Whatever," she said hopping onto the counter. "So, what exactly were you working on this morning?"

"I was actually doing a little bit of vetting for a friend." Logan answered, taking out eggs, cheese, ham and green peppers. "Omelets?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "Who exactly are you checking on?"

Digging out a skillet, Logan began preparing their impromptu breakfast. "Richard Lake got an anonymous donation and he wanted to know if it was on the up and up."

"Lake?" Max questioned. "The guy who operates the safe house for kids?"

Logan nodded his head, watching the eggs. "Yeah. Could you grab some plates and forks?"

Hopping off her perch, she snagged two plates from the cabinet and the silverware from the drawer bringing them to the counter. "So, was it?"

Slipping the fluffy omelets onto the plates, Logan responded. "Yeah, it seems that the Lakeshore House has just become five thousand dollars richer."

"That's a lot of money to throw around," Max said nonchalantly, taking a bite of her food.

"That's why I was checking the donor."

"Who was it?"

"Someone named Isobella von Heltrich," Logan answered digging into his food. "Juice," he mumbled around a mouthful of eggs, "I forgot to get it out of the fridge."

"I'll get it," Max said jumping up and retrieving a glass of juice for Logan and a tall glass of milk for herself.

Noticing the milk, Logan looked at Max intently. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Max replied. "von Heltrich. I don't recognize the name."

"Neither did I," Logan said allowing the topic of Max's health to drop. "Apparently she's the daughter of a German investment banker and an Italian clothing designer. Grew up mostly in Europe but came to the States about two years ago after her parents were killed in a skiing accident."

"Sounds like your basic do-gooder."

"That's what I told Richard."

Finishing the last of her breakfast, Max looked up. "But."

"But what?"

"Oh come on, you've got that I'm missing something look."

Putting down his fork, Logan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "I'm just wondering if the person is so good why are there no recent pictures of her? Surely somewhere along the way she would have been bio-ed for her charitable donations."

"Maybe this was a first for her," Max said standing, stacking their plates together and taking them into the kitchen.

"No, I did some research. She's been doing a lot of donating since her parents died. The majority of it in Seattle."

"Well," Max said dropping back into her seat, "maybe she doesn't like the attention, much like a certain man I know."

"Maybe," Logan mulled it over, and then realized what time it was. "What are you still doing here, anyway? Isn't Normal going to be riding you all day when you walk in at half past nine?"

Faking a cough, Max smiled. "I'm taking a sick day, which means that I do need to get out of here." Grabbing her jacket from a hook in the hall, "Thanks for breakfast, Handsome." Max hid a smile when she saw Logan's mouth drop a little at the expression. Hey, you called me beautiful. "And by the way, I expect to be fed again tonight," she called as she left the apartment.

Author's Notes:

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