Monday, Mid-day, Carriage House Porch
One of many problems with getting your photo plastered all over the newspapers with your sixteen-year-old dead girlfriend is that flight attendants won't believe you're twenty-one, even with the ID to prove it. Combined with TSA restrictions about carrying liquids on flights, Logan didn't have anything to drink between the time he checked his luggage in California and the time he claimed his baggage in Louisiana.
Fortunately, he had the entire cab ride back to Milieux to drink everything in his luggage, so by the time he arrived at Carriage House he was - well, not cheerful, not in the least, but he'd managed to plaster on an upbeat expression for anyone who was watching.
[Open!]
Fortunately, he had the entire cab ride back to Milieux to drink everything in his luggage, so by the time he arrived at Carriage House he was - well, not cheerful, not in the least, but he'd managed to plaster on an upbeat expression for anyone who was watching.
[Open!]