Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
He was looking at me that way again, as though he heard something I wasn’t saying. I didn’t like it. It made me feel exposed. “So, you’re pretty serious, then, I take it?”
His question surprised me. Or rather, the fact that he’d asked it surprised me after I’d just been thinking about how, up to this point, he’d seemed to avoid any personal connection.
“Yes,” I said. “Very serious.” We hadn’t talked marriage or kids or anything, but I could see it going that way…a few years from now. Again, when life ceased to be as intense as it currently was.
Something flitted over his face once more, but before I could attempt to read Tuck’s expression, he turned slightly, looking toward the door. “I should go.”
“Oh. Yes. Right. Thanks again. Oh, do you need to call an Uber?”
“I’ll do it downstairs. I downloaded the app.”
“Oh great.” I smiled as I opened the door. “Look at you, downloading apps.” I cringed. What the hell are you talking about, Em? “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.” He started walking out, and I moved to close the door when he suddenly turned back. We almost collided, and I pulled in a big inhale of his T-shirt. Soap and sage and clean male skin. God, he smelled good. I practically jumped away. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me. And I know this building provides some security, but it wouldn’t hurt to get an alarm on that sliding glass door. You know, for peace of mind.”
“That’s a great idea. Good night, Tuck.”
For a moment I thought he might say something more, but he didn’t, simply stepping back into the vestibule.
I closed the door and flipped both locks, listening as his soft footsteps moved away, then I let my head fall forward, my forehead connecting with the wood.
I knew I was no longer in danger, so why did I still feel so shaky?
twelve
Tuck
The ride to the airport was spent listening to Charlie talk business with some director or another. Frankly, I was happy to have the time to sit in relative silence with Emily. For the first time since I’d started working for her, it felt mostly comfortable. I felt like we’d found a new understanding at her apartment a couple days before. Even if we weren’t going to be friends again, we weren’t going to be at odds either.
I could finally settle into my job and begin rebuilding my life. Planning. Strategizing. Thinking about where I wanted to be and where, ultimately, I might fit in.
This wasn’t it. Frankly, I had no real idea where or what or how I’d finally find a sense of purpose, because in so many ways, I was still floundering. This was merely a means to an end, which was fine for now. And hopefully my presence would bring Emily the peace of mind she needed to focus solely on her job and becoming…whatever it was she wanted to become.
Win. Win.
The car pulled onto an airfield and came to a stop. I opened the door of the limo just as the driver was rounding the car. “Sorry, sir. I’ve got that.”
“Hey, no problem,” I said as I got out. I didn’t want other people opening doors for me. It felt off.
Charlie climbed out, slipping the guy some cash. “Thanks, Cory,” he said as the guy nodded, hurrying to the trunk to retrieve our bags.
A few minutes later I was climbing the short set of steps to the private plane as Emily and Charlie waited for Cory to unload one piece of luggage after another. I swung my singular duffel bag through the door, lowering my head as I entered the cabin.
Wow.
Now this…this I could get used to. I’d only flown once before, when my parents and I had traveled to my grandpa’s funeral in Seattle. My family hadn’t had much time for vacations. It was too difficult to find people to care for all the crops and animals when the three of us were a vital part of the team who ran the place. We’d gone away for a weekend here and there, but always somewhere within driving distance.
I remembered that flight well though, and these conditions were in a completely different league.
This was class.
This was money.
Swiveling, camel-colored leather seats that were large enough to ensure even the most sizable man was comfortable. Polished mahogany paneling that made up the walls of the cabin. A glass-cased beverage/snack bar along the back wall that held all manner of in-air sustenance.
The pilot ducked out of the cockpit just as I was sitting down in a seat on the left side of the cabin. There was an empty seat next to me, and across the aisle, two more seats for Emily and Charlie. The pilot took the few steps to where I sat, shaking my hand and smiling. “Hi, I’m Russell Martin. I’ll be flying you to New York today. It looks like it’ll be a smooth flight.”