LOGAN (Book One)

TWENTY-FIVE

The ride to L. A from Long Beach took almost an hour, and with only three minutes left on the clock, Newton parked in front as I rushed inside the tall building that hit the sky and took a deep breath.

I called Newton out of all the people on my contact list. I called my psychiatrist to drive me to LA. I had an option to get an Uber or a taxi to take me here, but somehow I called Newton because he was the person who told me about Lena Graham.

So, why?

Although it's weird having him drive me when I haven't seen him for years until that fateful rainy night at the karaoke bar, he would be there to save me from distress after Logan saw me as an evil bitch.

Right away, he was happy to oblige the lift. I found it weird that he wanted to drive me to Los Angeles as if he got nothing better to do. I was curious if he had any clients he needed to attend.

But the cool thing about him driving me is it's free. I didn't pay a dime to get to L. A.

I ran here as fast as I could, exhausted; I couldn't believe I had run. It felt forever since I ran. P. E was no joke for two years in high school, and running isn't my thing. I hate using my cow legs for something I quickly give up. I'm not fat, but it makes me tired after one round. I felt like I was in the desert, dying under the heat and dry with no water.

Looked at my phone screen. "Whew, I made it." I pant, catching the fresh air inside Sky Studios.

"Hi, may I help you?" A young woman behind the counter asked.

I lifted one finger to give myself a minute before my breathing returned to normal. Cold sweat was riding off my head and down to my temples when I had enough strength to be stabilized. I walked up to the receptionist. "I'm Aphrodite-"

"Ah!" The woman cut me off. "We were expecting you. As I said on the phone, Ms. Graham was in a meeting, but now she's inside her office." Jocelyn smiled. "Take the sixteenth floor up, and I'll ring her letting her know of your arrival."

"Thank you." I breathed.

"Do you want some water?" She asked with concern. She was watching me as if I would faint in front of her.

"No, I'm okay. I can manage." I told her with reassurance. "So, sixteen?"

"Yes."

I left her desk and headed to the elevators. With a single ding, I went inside and tapped the number sixteen as the doors closed, ready to go up. I never knew such a luxurious building in Los Angeles could be this tall. Usually, music studios are just simple buildings with only two stories, but this person went all out with a skyscraper studio.

There were a few stops for some of the employees to head to their destination as I was cramped up in the corner until I was no longer squished when the elevator reached the sixteen floor. As the doors open, there is a beautiful lounge area, pure white, with bamboo trees up against the wall and posters of actors and singers. Two large glass doors down the lounge might be Lena Graham's office as there was two receptionist before entering, one male and one female behind their desk getting phone calls like crazy.

I strolled to admire the lounge, and then there was a poster that caught my eye suddenly. The two doors burst open, had the receptionists jump, and I cringed. A young woman, much older than me, maybe two or three years, walked out of the office wearing a lovely slim red strapless dress that goes above the knee, three-inch red heels, and a red purse that says Prada. She has bright blue eyes and a heart-shaped face with a hint of freckles around the nose area, making it more attractive to her. She has light dark smooth skin and straight brown hair that has been ironed forever to get it that thin as it sways when she walks.