Joe comes up and starts giving us a safety talk, and I give in. I’m now trapped in close proximity with a member of our rival family for two whole days. And not just any member, but one who is quite clearly going to do her best to drive me insane.
I can smell Maddie’s perfume, and when her arm brushes mine as she leans on the armrest, I have to stifle a groan. This trip is going to be slow torture, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Chapter Nine
Maddie
Quite clearly, Caesar is extremely pissed off about this whole adventure.
At the risk of sounding like a fourteen-year-old, that hurts my feelings. We shared what I thought was a wonderful moment in that hotel room. I really thought he liked me. But I guess the realization that I’m a Rutherford has overridden that memory, and now when he looks at me all he can see is an enemy.
As the plane moves to the runway, then speeds up, my throat tightens and tears prick my eyes. It’s just the damn baby hormones, I console myself. Nothing more.
I’m coming dangerously close to the deadline I set myself for making a decision about this baby, and I’m still undecided. In the end, I thought I’d wait until after the trip to Queenstown before I made up my mind. This feels like a huge hurdle I need to scale first. After all, it’s not every day you go away with the father of your secret baby, especially when he hates your guts.
I’m not a great planner. I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-jeans kind of girl. I make everything up as I go along. So I’m going to wait, get through this nightmare, and then decide.
Until then, I have to put up with the inconvenient nausea, the waves of tiredness, and the fact that my brain seems to have gone on vacation somewhere far away.
I inhale and then let out a long, slow breath as I take off my baseball cap and put it on the table.
“Are you afraid of flying?” Caesar asks.
I realize I’ve rested my other hand on my stomach. It’s becoming an automatic gesture.
“No.” I tuck my hands beneath my thighs so I don’t do it again. “I had another migraine this morning, and I feel queasyagain, that’s all.” It’s the best excuse I can think of to explain my regular bouts of sickness.
He frowns. “Have you tried Sumatriptan injections? I understand they can stop a headache in fifteen minutes.”
“No… I might have to look into them, though.” I do suffer from migraines, just not as frequently as I’ve been making out. “How do you know about Sumatriptan? Do you get them?”
“No.”
“A no-doubt-gorgeous ex who tried to claim she had a headache every night?”
His lips twist. “No… my mother, actually. Not so much since she went through the menopause, but when she was younger she got them a lot. Linked to her periods, I think. Are you the same?”
It seems like a reasonable explanation, so I nod.
“Period pain and migraines at the same time,” he says, “that’s pretty unlucky.”
Now I feel guilty for lying to him again, but it’s too late to correct myself. “I’d still rather have those than be a man.”
He’s saved from answering as Joe comes over and asks whether we’d like a drink and a snack. Caesar orders a latte, but I settle for fruit tea, as the smell of coffee is still making me nauseous. Joe suggests a plate of mini muffins, and, trying not to look at one another, we both agree.
“Thought you wouldn’t say no to bakers confectionery,” Caesar says after Joe walks off.
“Just because I temporarily called myself Cupcake, it doesn’t mean I have a cake fetish, any more than you calling yourself Captain means you have a boat fetish. Or do you enjoy splicing the mainbrace? I have no idea what that means, by the way, but it sounds nautical.”
“It’s a command in the Royal Navy to issue an extra ration of rum to the crew.”
My eyebrows rise. “Oh. Okay, I didn’t know that. I thought it involved doing something to the rigging.”
“Well, technically, yes, you’re right. The mainbrace was the thickest rope on a sailing ship. It held the mainmast brace. Splicing, or repairing, it during battle was dangerous, and sailors who did it were rewarded with an extra ration of grog.”
“Look at you,” I tease. “I’m not sure whether Captain suits you better than my current nickname for you.”
He huffs. “Don’t tell me.”
