It was an exasperating day for Isabella. It seemed as though her team was entirely incompetent; after all, wasn’t it common sense to use coffee ice cubes for iced coffee rather than regular ice cubes? Apparently not. Her stylist had ripped the outfit put on her for the shoot and it was freezing by the fountain in Central Park. After a day of all but starving herself, Isabella sat down at a cafe, fingers running through her long hair.
Logan sat silently on the edge of the fountain in central park, wondering if the raven-haired man would be able to meet with him that night. He didn’t hold it against the nephilim when he didn’t show up without word. He understood that it was one thing to have some sort of relationship with a downworlder, but it was a whole different issue to be in a relationship with someone of the same sex. He drew in a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his thighs. He checked his watch, frowning slightly when he had seem how much time had passed, assuming it was one of the nights he couldn’t make it.