Logan's Flower

Chapter 1

A/N: Daisy is a pen name for me, although it is pretty close to my actual name. Since I'm really fond of it, it was the first name that popped in my head when I had to come up with a name for a side character in Loving Zach. I never thought that Daisy would get her own story, but she grew as a character, and here we are. But aside from the name and chatty personality, that is as far as any similarities goes for me and Daisy Mendes.

***

"Hello. My name is Daisy and I will tell you a story."

"What story?" asks a little girl on my left.

"I know your name, already," grumbles a boy in front of me.

"Yes. You do, Tommy, but not everybody does," I tell to the boy with a friendly smile on my face.

I'm in my mom's shelter reading stories to the little ones, while their parents have a group session. You see, my mom grew up in an abusive home, and when she was twelve, her mom took her and her sister and ran. Having that life experience, my mom decided to dedicate her time and attention to creating a safe house for families who have suffered from domestic violence. We mostly have women with kids, but sometimes it's the older sibling with the younger ones that come to us.

I love spending my time with these kids. It's a bitter-sweet experience, for many reasons. For one, their lives had been hard, and most of them had seen and endured things no kid should, but they still smile, laugh and play. Secondly... It's personal.

"How about Three Little Pigs?" I say plastering on the biggest smile I can muster. That's a good one, practically the story of me; be irresponsible and when the shit hits the fan go mooch off of your older brother.

***

Two hours later, when I finally get into my car, I let the smile slip. Closing my eyes, I take a few breaths and start the engine.

It's getting harder and harder to smile and be all sunshine and rainbows. I have a few minutes for myself and then I must plaster on another smile for my brother and customers at his bar. Since today is Tuesday, I know he doesn't really need me to work, but I want to. Pouring drinks and listening to other people's problems and successes is a good way to get away from reality, and I could use a timeout of everything going on in my life.

I park my car behind Triple D and enter the bar through the back door. As always, my first stop is the kitchen where my brother's boyfriend, Zach, works.

"Hi, honey," I say coming up to him and hugging him from behind, as he washes some plates. Zach is a really good-looking guy. He has that boyish surfer look. Blond messy hair, green eyes, pouty lips. He's tall and lean. Add the fact that he's supper sweet, and he's the whole package.

"Hey." He smiles over his shoulder.

Zach came into our family recently. His ex hurt him and he was living in his car when he stumbled into Dean's bar. Dean, my oldest brother, gave him a job and a place to stay. From there it grew. It's nice seeing Zach smiling and that makes my own smile turn more genuine.

"Where's Dean?" I ask.

"Um, Dean should be at the bar and Logan isn't here yet."

"Thanks." I kiss his cheek standing on my tippy toes and pivot around toward doors.

The word Logan alone has my stomach clenching.

The bar is already starting to fill up, so I just kiss Dean's cheek with a quick hi and get to the work.

I pour drinks, smile, joke and flirt. I've been blessed with good-looking parents, so I know I'm easy on the eyes and it automatically adds extra attention from male costumers. And no, I'm not being presumptuous. I just have a mirror and if enough people say it to you, at some point you just know that it's true.