Page 70 of A Little Bit Uncertain

“I hate to do this, Audra, but I have to get one thing done for work. Is it okay if I work on it? It’ll make our time in New York much more enjoyable if I can get ahead on this one thing. And I promise I’m not the person who works the whole time on vacation or anything, I just need to get this done.”

I cut him off. “Relax, Donovan, I’m not worried. I’ll enjoy my bagel and this entire experience,” I smiled at him, munching on my breakfast as the plane continued to climb. To be honest, I was hoping to have his attention because I wanted someone to share in the giddiness I was feeling, but I understood. Especially if it made the rest of the trip easier. Staring out the window, I watched the world wake up. The sun must have just peeked over the horizon, because the colors of the sky were even more spectacular than when we got on the plane.

Zoning out, I got lost in my thoughts. I couldn’t believe I was on a private airplane barreling to New York for forty-eight hours. That I even said yes to this hare-brained idea. Who was I? Plus, now that we had crossed the line, would I be able to do anything over the next two days besides try to get in his pants? The fleeting thought of him driving into me had my body reacting already. How was I going to keep my hands off him? I glanced at him, and he looked amazing in his casual clothes. Jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a dark gray sweater that accentuated his broad shoulders. I felt good in the new threads I was wearing too. Dark jeans and a cream-colored flowy blouse looked like something that a person who took a private jet would wear. This whole experience was really something else. How the other side lived.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” his voice interrupted my thoughts.

Snapping my eyes to him, I felt my cheeks burn as he gave me a curious half-smile.

“You’re supposed to be working, not being distracted by me. It’s been like five minutes,” I laughed.

“Yes, but I admit, it’s nothing but distracting with you sitting across from me. There’s no way I’m going to be able to keep my eyes to myself.” That half smile turned into a full-blown grin, and he looked at me as if he was trying to decide something. “Trying to work was a bad idea,” he finally said as he shut his computer, got up to sit in the seat next to me, and put his hand on my thigh. “What do you think? Is it too early to have a glass of bubbly? Would you think less of me if we had our first drink at”—he looked at his watch—“6:27 in the morning? You know, to celebrate this impromptu trip and maybe the last twelve hours? If they have it, does a rose champagne sound okay?”

“Does anyone say no to that?” I laughed because, although we were far from our kegs and eggs days, I didn’t see harm in a small glass to clink to. It might be the only time I would ever fly on a private plane, so I should live it up, right?

He called the stewardess over. “Molly, do we have Mailly L’Intermporelle Rose Grand Cru?” She nodded yes. “Can you please pour two glasses for us?” I noticed her note the way we were now sitting next to each other.

“Of course, Mr. Wright,” she answered, then disappeared into the back. I didn’t even understand what he said, but it sure sounded fancy. Honestly, I didn’t even know that champagne differed from sparkling wine. Cora is the one who explained it to me, and that was just last year. The flight attendant brought over two beautiful glasses filled with light pink bubbly, and I knew I had a stupid grin on my face. She put them down on the table, and Donovan grabbed his and held it up in the air. My flute joined his. “To the first of many, Audra King,” he said, and he tinked my glass. I took a tentative sip as champagne wasn’t my favorite, but this was like nothing I had ever tasted before. Although I always read the backs of wine and liquor bottles for the outlandish descriptions like ‘buttery apple skin finishes’ or ‘velvety rainforest dirt at the nose,’ I would bet money that what we drank on the plane matched the description exactly. I understood the hype behind champagne now; this pink drink undoubtedly danced across my tongue.

“Donovan, oh my God, this is remarkable. I mean, I know I’ve never tasted champagne as good as this.”

“Glad you like it. It’s one of my favorites when I have to drink champagne. My sister always laughed that this is what I stocked in the jet because it’s pink. I can’t believe she stocked this for me, too. That was thoughtful of her.”

“Thoughtfulness must run in the family then, because you’re one of the most thoughtful people I know,” I warmly smiled at him. “How often do you fly on this?”

“Well, I don’t anymore.” He hesitated, unsure of what to say next. “I haven’t seen my parents in years. Since I turned twenty-five, actually. But yes, this is how I used to get around the world doing crazy things.”

“Oh,” I said, waiting for him to continue. How old was he again? I think he said it at darts. Twenty-Eight? So he hadn’t seen his parents in three years? Yikes. I wondered what happened. So maybe it was a horrible split and estrangement after all. Thankfully, he kept going.

“We didn’t see eye-to-eye on things, and I took off. Life is better for me without them around. Let’s just say they weren’t exactly shining examples of what parents should be.” He shrugged his shoulders and took another sip, though I felt bad that the whole mood on the plane shifted a bit. It sounded like this incredibly successful, kind-hearted, wonderful man may have had to deal with some shit growing up.

He was still sitting next to me, so I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder.

“I know we don’t know each other too well, but I’m confident when I say, screw them. You’re pretty amazing, Donovan, and they are most assuredly missing out.”

At that, he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. I closed my eyes and took it in. Private plane, pink champagne, D on the brain. Donovan, not dick of course. I mean, okay, maybe a double D.

“What about your parents? What’s their story?” He asked as he kissed those interlaced fingers.

“Oof-that’s a…” I didn’t know how to answer that. How deep were we getting here? He didn’t really give me anything besides that his parents sucked, but I suppose it didn’t do me any favors holding back.

“Well, my dad lives like two hours away in Kainerville, and both of my brothers live a little farther than that in the city. They have apartments in the same building. I don’t see anyone as much as I would like to. My mother passed away when I was sixteen. There was a car that had lost control because the woman that was driving had a heart attack. The car was barreling towards us on the sidewalk, and she pushed my brother and me away.” This was the part I hated. It’s when everyone gave me pity eyes and platitudes, like those words did anything. “My brother was unscathed, my mother lost her life, and I almost died.” I brought myself to meet his gaze. He looked pretty shell-shocked about it—everyone always was.

“Your mother,” he started, “how can you call me Batman when a real-life superhero raised you?” The words were said with such conviction that I felt my nose prickle. “She saved you. My God, what an amazingly brave woman, what a sacrifice. I am so sorry. And you?” he continued, “look at you now, Audra, helping people in the same way you were helped. No wonder you are having such mixed emotions about continuing nursing.” My heart thumped wildly with his words.

No one had ever pegged that truth of mine before, and I had never told a soul. There was a large part of me that felt like nursing was the price I needed to pay for surviving everything, and helping people was my penance. There was more than a whisper of shame when I acknowledged, out loud, that nursing might not be for me. That the people who saved me could hack it, but I couldn’t return the favor to a child that needed me. And never have I ever heard a reaction like that to my family story either. The sincerity of his words threw me for a loop. “I … yeah … I… she was, wasn’t she?” I gave him a knowing smile. “Sorry, that was a lot for a pre-8 a.m. conversation.”

He leaned over to me, right next to my ear, “If it were up to me, we’d be having lots of conversations before 8.” I pulled back, and he winked at me. And in a matter of seconds, it went from a hard moment back to a lighthearted one. Surprisingly, I didn’t carry my family baggage like trauma. It was a situation that happened, and although I missed my mother every single day, I didn’t have some chip against the world. Granted, I’d spent lots of time and money in therapy, but I had learned to deal with those emotions a long time ago. Grateful for the break in tension, and the thought of what kinds of morning conversations Donovan and I would have, I laughed.

“Okay, now that it’s obvious we both have some family baggage, let’s move on to a couple of other things. Like, what’s your favorite color? Or can I get a tour of this thing now?” I asked.

He laughed and stood up. “Royal Blue,” he emphasized the royal with a smirk. “No joke. It’s no wonder I’m interested in a King.” He held one hand over his heart and blinked at me like a cartoon, while he extended the other to me. Taking it, he gave me the tour.

“So,” he said with playfulness, as we stood in the back of the jet after seeing everything. He pulled my back against his chest, wrapping his arms around my front, and I immediately melted into him. I didn’t miss how his thumb grazed right below my bra before he pulled my hair over his shoulder and placed kisses all along my neck. I tilted my neck to give him full access and felt the goosebumps rush down my arm. “Remember when you said that my bed was like a cloud?”

“I do.” I grinned.

He spun me to face him, and his thumb dragged across my cheek as I looked at him, every nerve tuned to what I hoped would come next.