ten
HEATHER SAT IN THE LOBBY AREA, WAITING FOR THE workshop to end. She would’ve been on the road to St. Louis already, had Logan not texted her.
YOU OK? the text said.
She hadn’t been till she saw those words. Someone cared. Logan cared. She knew it was just his nature to minister, to be there for people. But it seemed between last night and now he had become a friend or, as he put it, a big brother in Christ. She’d teased him at breakfast this morning that he was good at his job, asking more than once how she was doing, whether she was rested enough to drive home, and whether he could pray with her. She’d told him what had happened the night before, and he knew Ace’s comments in the workshop must’ve upset her.
Heather had texted back. I’M OK. LEAVING INDY NOW RATHER THAN LATER.
Another message came. WAIT TIL WKSHP ENDS. MEET ME IN LOBBY.
She’d waited, all the while chastising herself. Why had she gone to that workshop? She knew Ace would be there, but Logan had said he could do what Ace had promised—introduce her to some recording artists. She would meet Monica and others after the panel discussion. But instead, the only thing that happened— again—was she got her feelings hurt. She just wanted to go home and get away from everything related to music.
Her eyes followed a woman getting off the elevator, the one who’d been sitting with Cyd and Stephanie. She didn’t know her name, but she remembered her from Stephanie’s wedding. Old habit. She always took note of beautiful women, to size up the competition in any given place. But now she took note for a different reason. The woman looked upset, and Heather felt a little sorry for her, surprising herself. Since when did she care about another woman’s problems?
Ah, finally. Logan approached from another direction with a smattering of conference attendees, Cyd among them. She and Logan had their heads together, but when Cyd saw the woman, she went to her. They headed back up the elevator.
Heather rose from her chair to meet Logan. “Hey. You didn’t have to do the make-sure-Heather’s-all-right thing. I’ll be fine.”
“Actually, I didn’t ask you to wait to check on you—but I’m glad to hear you’ll be fine. I’m on a different big brother mission.” His smile held a hint of intrigue. “I was thinking it would be awesome if someone could disciple you, teach you how to study the Bible, pray with you, that kind of thing. Are there any women in your life who could do that?”
Heather gave a blank stare. “The people I know wondered why I went to church.”
“Okay, so . . . no?”
“No.”
“Good! I mean, not good, but I’m glad I’m on the right track. I asked Cyd if she’d be willing to disciple you.”
Heather’s eyes got wide. “You have no idea how wrong a track you’re on. Cyd hates me.”
Logan looked perplexed. “Why would you say that?”
“Did she say she’d do it?”
“She said she’d pray about it.”
“See!”
“What’s to see? Discipling someone is a big time commitment; I can see why she’d want to pray about it. Why do you think she hates you?”
Heather sighed and looked away. He obviously didn’t know. She looked at him. “Logan, I’m the one Scott had the affair with.”
Logan stared at her a few seconds, then looked away.
Heather sat back down. She’d thought she could avoid telling him, but there it was, out in the open. What must he think of her now? Ace was one thing, but a married man? Sadness welled up again. She’d already begun to like the thought of Logan as her big brother.
He sat beside her, elbows on his thighs. “I’m trying to figure out how I missed it,” he said. “I remember the two of you staying after rehearsal to practice duets, but I never put it together, not even when Scott confessed.”
“Well, Cyd didn’t have to put it together. She was with Dana when we got caught.”
His eyes said it all.
“I’m the last person Cyd would want to help. She doesn’t even speak to me. And frankly, I wouldn’t blame you if you stopped talking to me, now that you know.”
A tenderness entered his eyes. “So I’m supposed to think you’re the worst person on earth? This might be a shocker, but there were two of you involved, and I actually still talk to Scott. Cyd does too.”
“Scott’s different. He was always a good guy. Everybody likes him. Me? Not so much.”
“That was the old Heather.”
Old Heather? Was there a new? She’d just committed her life to Jesus last night. Couldn’t have changed that fast.
“Well,” she said, “you’re probably the only one who’d see it that way. Cyd sure won’t.”
“I’ll be honest, Heather. I’m sure it’s hard for Cyd to look past what happened. Dana’s her best friend; you were the other woman. But knowing this, I’m even more encouraged by her response. She could’ve said no the moment I asked. I’m impressed that she’s praying about it.” He paused. “But how would you feel about learning from Cyd?”
“I don’t know,” Heather said. “It’s kind of wild, given the circumstances. But she used to lead the singles’ Bible study, and I heard she was a good teacher. And before . . . you know . . . she always made a point of speaking to me. I think I’d be open to it, if she’s willing. That’s a big if.”
“I’ll be praying,” Logan said, getting to his feet. “I’m on the next panel, and break’s almost over. You heading back?”
Heather nodded, standing also. “Thanks for everything, Logan.”
“No problem.” He gave her a quick hug. “Text to let me know you got home safely.”
She nodded and watched him leave, certain she’d spend the entire drive home trying to understand all that had unfolded in the last twenty-four hours. She wasn’t sure she ever would.