Stacey Logan Quotes

As soon as we were outside, I whipped my hand from his. 'What's the matter with you? You know he was wrong.' Stacey swallowed to flush his anger, then said gruffly, "I know it, and you know it, but he don't know it, and that's where the trouble is. Now come on before you get us into a real mess.

Do you remember the fundraiser buffet for the senator at the Yacht Club?” ... “I’d forgotten something in my car so I was outside when you arrived. I saw you driving too fast with the top down and the music too loud. You were belting out the lyrics like you didn’t care who was listening. Then I watched you use the rearview mirror to fix yourself up so you’d look respectable, and when you were all spit-polished and perfect, you gave the mirror the finger.” She remembered. “You asked me out on our first date that night.

Logan is an asshole, Xander a brutal taskmaster, and Camden a dictator, but they’ve all suffered to get here. Be gentle with them…if you can

So this Logan guy, is he giving you a hard time about the wedding?” “He’s blackmailing me.” Kevin jumped to his feet so fast, she sat back in her chair. “He’s a dead man. I’m going to kick his ass so bad he won’t even be able to cry for his mommy. Gonna fold him up like a napkin.” His loyalty warmed her heart, even as embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “It’s…not what you’re thinking.” “I’m thinking by the time I’m done pounding on his face, even dogs will be afraid of him.

Logan voiced what we all were thinking. “The teachers must know who it was. We’ll probably find out this morning.” “The other kids may know right now,” Stacey murmured. “I mean, look at the schoolyard. Usually everyone’s laughing and talking, and running around. But everything seems so still.” Stacey was right. It did look different. Kids stood together in tight little groups. Every so often, someone would glance over her shoulder at the building, but there wasn’t the usual joking chatter. There was barely any sound.

You are going to have to take the rest of these croissants to work with you, I cannot be trusted alone in the house with a half-dozen buttery, crispy pillows of deliciousness." "Well, I wouldn't have brought so many, but that place will only sell them if you buy eight or more." I laugh. A Logan Square conundrum. "I know. One of the neighborhood quirks." "You hipsters with your crazy convolutions." I laugh. The transitional predominantly Latino neighborhood I moved into almost fifteen years ago has indeed become hipster central. Full of young men in skinny jeans and ironic T-shirts and scraggly facial hair, and young women in cotton sundresses with motorcycle boots, all blithely riding about on their vintage Schwinns with earbuds in, making motorists stabby.

These. Are. AMAZING," Caroline says around a mouthful of apple cider zeppole. We're at the Logan Square Farmers Market, and have eaten our way around the square. We started with a couple of meat tacos from Cherubs, simply seasoned small cubes of beef on soft steamed corn tortillas, with a garnish of onion, cilantro and lime. A perfect amuse-bouche. Then we shared an insane grilled cheese sandwich, buttery and crispy and filled with gooey, perfectly melted Wisconsin Butterkase cheese. A pork empanada from Pecking Order, with their homemade banana ketchup. A porchetta sandwich from Publican Quality Meats.

If Stacey was going to be a fool and go running out into the night to take an even bigger fool home, the least I could do was make sure he got back in one piece.