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“Where the hell is Marlowe?” Hayden asks.
“She said she’d be here,” Leah replies.
“We’re on a time crunch with the storm looming.” I glance at Leah over the top of my seat. “Will you call her?”
“Yep.”
If she doesn’t arrive soon, we’re going without her. She can catch up when lover boy arrives from France. I can hear Leah’s side of the conversation and catch enough to know they’re coming.
“Five minutes,” Leah confirms. “Rafe’s flight from Paris was late getting in.”
I hate that he’s coming with us, but I’d never say so to Marlowe. I just keep hoping she’ll realize she can do much better than a phony charmer with a French accent and a questionable past. And yes, I had Gordon, our director of security, look into the guy and didn’t like some of what he uncovered, especially the part about his ex-wife claiming he was violent with her during divorce proceedings. He was never actually charged, but somehow Gordon found out about it, telling me it’s not something that would be revealed in a routine search, which I’ve also done.
In order to bring this info to Marlowe, I’d need to confess to having had her boyfriend investigated. No one else knows I did that, not even Natalie, who’d be pissed with me for butting into Marlowe’s life. But with every instinct I have telling me the guy is no good, I have no regrets about having Gordon take a look at him. Rather than start an international incident with one of my best friends at Christmas, I’ve decided to take a wait-and-see approach. I’m living proof that people can grow and mature over time, and I want to give Rafe the benefit of the doubt for Marlowe’s sake. I hope I’m wrong about him.
Marlowe comes up the stairs and onto the plane, red-faced and out of breath from the dash through the airport. Unfortunately, Rafe is right behind her, equally winded and red-faced.
“So sorry to hold you all up.” His English heavily accented with French inflections. “All my fault.”
It’s telling that none of us have anything to say to him. I wonder if she notices that or if she’s so besotted, she can’t see the forest through the proverbial trees. He’s been in France the last three weeks, and she’s been looking forward to his return while the rest of us dreaded it. Our only hope is that she grows tired of him before she does something stupid like marry him. God forbid. Hayden and I would have to be held back from throwing ourselves between the two of them before they could say “I do.”
“Let’s go.” I signal that we’re ready to the steward who will keep us in cocktails and snacks for the flight. He notifies the pilots, and a few minutes later, we’re taxiing out to the runway.
My anxiety is through the roof. I want everything to be perfect for Nat, including the flight. With everyone else in high spirits, I try to relax and enjoy the time with my favorite people. But as it turns out, I was right to be anxious.
The flight is super bumpy from the minute we take off, and the atmosphere onboard the plane becomes much more subdued when the pilots ask us—and the steward who was supposed to keep us in booze—to remain seated. Fuck. I hate this. I can handle takeoff and landing like a pro, but turbulence freaks me out. There’s no breakdown lane up here, and as we bounce around, I fear I might get sick.
“Babe.”
I look over to find Natalie paler than usual. She doesn’t like this any more than I do, but she’s calmer than I am.
She looks me in the eye. “Breathe.”
I take a couple of deep breaths that help to calm me ever so slightly.
The plane hits a big bump.
“Fuck,” Hayden mutters.
Couldn’t have said it better myself.
“Flynn.”
I look over at him and lift my chin. Addie has her eyes closed and her lips are moving, as if she’s praying.
“Should we be doing this?” Hayden asks.
“I assume the pilots will tell us if we need to divert or turn back.”
Imagine the headlines if the five Quantum principals go down in a plane together. Jesus. That’s a cheery thought. I hold on tight to Natalie’s hand and offer a few prayers of my own as we bump and roll through the clouds for more than an hour before we hear from the pilot again.
“Sorry for the rough ride, folks. We’re not finding any smooth air up here, and we’re hearing it’s going to get worse the closer we get to Aspen.”
I can’t imagine it getting any worse than it is right now.
“We’re going to land and figure out a plan. Sorry about the inconvenience.”
At this point, inconvenience is the least of my concerns. We begin to descend, and the turbulence gets even worse. It’s so bad, I wonder how the plane doesn’t disintegrate. Behind me, Aileen and the kids are crying. Kristian tries to comfort them, but I can hear panic in his voice that fuels my own.
