Unlikely Hearts - Logan Huntzberger

Chapter Four

The Huntzberger estate was as grand as Alouette Davenport remembered it. Towering pillars framed the entrance, and the expansive driveway wound through meticulously maintained gardens that screamed old money. The house itself looked like it belonged in a film—rich, extravagant, and filled with a kind of cold elegance.

Atlas and Alouette arrived in the evening, just as the sun was beginning to dip behind the hills. Their parents had already beaten them to the event, mingling with the other guests inside. Alouette smoothed out her dress as they approached the front door, trying to mentally prepare for a night of tedious small talk and enduring Logan's unbearable charm. Atlas seemed unbothered, hands shoved casually in his pockets.

"Remember," Alouette sarcastically muttered to her brother as they walked inside, "this isn't a party. It's a networking opportunity, so no embarrassing me."

Atlas grinned, knowing full well she wasn't serious. "You mean I can't embarrass you? Got it."

The Huntzberger foyer was just as grand as the exterior—marble floors, an intricate chandelier, and the faint hum of classical music playing in the background. Staff in black-and-white uniforms weaved between guests, offering trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. The room buzzed with the kind of conversations Viviana had grown used to at these events—business deals, high-profile mergers, and old friends reminiscing about their wealth.

Before Alouette could find her dad and step mother, a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

"Atlas! Lou."

Logan Huntzberger appeared from behind a cluster of guests, his grin as effortless as always. He was wearing a tailored suit that looked like it had been made specifically for this occasion. His blonde hair was neatly combed back, and his signature smirk played on his lips as he made his way toward them.

"Logan," Alouette said dryly, crossing her arms. "Of course you're the first person we run into."

"What can I say? I've got great timing," he replied, flashing her a wink before turning to greet her parents, who had just appeared from another room. Logan embraced her step mother like an old family friend, kissing her cheek. "Ah, there's my favorite Davenport," he teased.

Izzy laughed, clearly charmed. "Oh, Logan, you flatter me."

Her dad was next, and Logan shook his hand with a firm, practiced grip. "Mr. Davenport. Always a pleasure."

Alouette rolled her eyes as her father smiled warmly at Logan, easily falling into his charms. It always baffled her how quickly Logan could win over people—especially her parents. He was like a walking, talking PR machine, perfectly polished and insufferably likable.

Logan turned back to Viviana, that annoying grin never leaving his face. "Nice to see you too, Lou," he said, his voice dripping with faux sincerity.

"Charmed," she replied sarcastically, fighting the urge to smack the smirk off his face.

As they made their way to the dining room, Alouette couldn't help but note how seamlessly Logan fit into this world. The Huntzberger home, with all its pretension and wealth, was his natural habitat. She wasn't sure whether to admire him or be completely disgusted.

The dinner itself was predictably tedious. Shira and Mitchum Huntzberger, Logan's parents, played the perfect hosts, moving from guest to guest with practiced ease, making sure everyone felt important. The food was exquisite, of course, but Viviana couldn't enjoy it with the dull roar of business talk filling the air.

Alouette sat across from Logan, stealing glances at him as he expertly navigated conversations with the adults. When his parents weren't looking, he'd throw snide remarks her way, which she returned with just as much venom.

"Enjoying yourself?" Logan asked in a low voice, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, absolutely," she whispered sarcastically, her voice thick with fake enthusiasm. "There's nothing more thrilling than hearing about stock options and hedge funds."

"Careful," Logan teased. "I think your dad's got a thing for hedge funds. You wouldn't want to insult your future trust fund, would you?"

She shot him a glare. "You're insufferable."

"And yet, here we are," he replied, flashing her a grin that made her want to throttle him.

The rest of the dinner was more of the same—snide comments, forced smiles, and stifled laughter as the adults droned on. Alouette found herself sneaking glances at the clock, counting down the minutes until she could escape.

After dessert, the four of them—Alouette, Atlas, Honor, and Logan—slipped upstairs to the balcony for a break from the endless business chatter. The air outside was crisp and cool, a welcome change from the stifling formality inside. Logan's sister, Honor, sparked a joint and offered it to the group.

"God, that dinner was painful," Honor said, exhaling smoke. "I swear, if I had to hear one more word about the Huntzberger legacy, I would've jumped out the window."

Alouette snorted. "At least you're honest."

Atlas accepted the joint and leaned against the railing, looking out over the darkened landscape. "Yeah, I'm gonna head out soon, though. Early seminar tomorrow."

"Nerd," Logan teased, taking a long drag.

Alouette gave her brother a mock salute. "Good luck. I'll make sure to give Logan hell while you're gone."

Atlas smirked, knowing full well she meant it. "Have fun with that. Don't let him talk you into anything stupid."

After Atlas left, the three of them lingered on the balcony for a while, chatting about nothing in particular. But as the night wore on, Logan started to get more insistent.

"You've had way too much to drive," Logan pointed out, his voice slipping into that frustratingly authoritative tone he sometimes took with her. "I'm driving you back."

Alouette scoffed, taking another drag from Honor's joint. "I'm fine, Huntzberger."

He didn't budge, though. "Not a chance. You're not driving after that."

"I'm perfectly capable—"

"Not after that smoke and whatever you had at dinner," he interrupted, crossing his arms. "Come on, don't make me be the responsible one."

After a long sigh and a bit more protesting, Alouette reluctantly agreed. It wasn't worth the fight, and frankly, she didn't mind the thought of getting out of the Huntzberger mansion faster. As they headed downstairs, Honor gave them both a knowing look but didn't say anything.

The drive back to her apartment was mostly silent, the only sounds being the hum of the car engine and the occasional tap of Logan's fingers on the steering wheel. Alouette stared out the window, trying to ignore the awkward tension filling the car. She felt a little light-headed from the drinks and the joint earlier, and her mind kept wandering back to their past at Choate.

As they approached her building, she finally broke the silence.

"You ever think about Choate?" she asked quietly, her eyes still focused on the road ahead. "About what we had?"

Logan's fingers stilled on the wheel, and for a moment, the tension between them grew even thicker.

"Sometimes," he admitted, his voice softer than she expected. "You?"

She hesitated, her heart doing a strange little flip in her chest. "Yeah. Sometimes."

They pulled up to her apartment, and Alouette unclipped her seatbelt, ready to make a quick exit.

"Well, thanks for the ride," she muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Logan glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Anytime."

For a moment, she lingered in the car, as if something else needed to be said. But then she shook it off, opening the door and stepping out.

"Goodnight, Huntzberger," she said over her shoulder, heading toward her building.

"Goodnight, Davenport," he replied, his voice barely audible as she disappeared into the night.