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I slid into the car, then watched as he shut the door and rounded the hood before getting in the driver’s seat. He turned the music on low and drove us to the airport. It was a short trip that we filled with small talk, and by the time we parked and walked into the airport my nerves had eased.
It seemed as if Dillon had decided to make this trip as enjoyable as possible, and I was grateful for it.
We boarded the plane as first-class passengers, and I couldn’t contain my grin as I sat in the plush seats with plenty of leg room. Dillon put our carry-on’s overhead before taking his seat on the aisle, and we were buckling in when the flight attendant came over.
“Here are you blankets and pillows. Would you like a beverage while waiting for takeoff?”
“I’ll have a scotch,” Dillon said, then turned to me and asked, “Pinot Noir?”
I nodded and gave the flight attendant a smile.
After she walked away, I said, “Drinks and blankets without asking? You guys really live large up here in first class.”
Dillon chuckled and replied, “Just wait until you see the in-flight entertainment and gourmet meals.”
“Really?” I asked, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. “I could get used to this.”
“Here you are,” I heard the flight attendant say, so I opened my eyes and sat back up, accepting the glass of wine she offered.
“Thank you,” I murmured, then took a sip. “Wow, that’s good.”
“Mmmhmm,” Dillon said, his lips around his own glass.
Trying not to focus on those lips, I averted my attention back in front of me and asked, “So, what’s the plan for this weekend?”
“Well,” Dillon began, settling in. “Tomorrow morning we’ll get up bright and early, grab some breakfast, then head to the convention. I’m afraid it’ll be mostly sporting goods, suppliers, and the like, but there will actually be some marketing, PR, and supply companies that you may be interested in seeing … gather stuff for your business.”
“Really?” The possibility of there being vendors I could use hadn’t even crossed my mind. Excited, I turned my head toward him and said, “That’ll be great.”
Dillon nodded and resumed, “Tomorrow night is the fundraiser, dinner, and ballet, and then Sunday we will hit the convention again until it closes at noon. Then, we head back. Quick and painless.”
“It sounds like fun,” I assured him, because to me, it really did, and that was before I’d learned there would actually be information and contacts at the convention that I could use. No, being with Dillon for the weekend, when he was acting like this, like we were friends, was like utopia to me.
“I think so, too,” he replied with a smile, then rolled his head toward me and asked, “But I was thinking tonight we’d drop off our things, then go out for a nice dinner in the city. What do you think?”
“Sounds perfect,” I replied, unable to tear my eyes away from his emerald gaze.
Hope filled my chest as I mentally cataloged what I’d brought with me, and tried to figure out what I could wear for a night out with Dillon.
15
Dillon
I waited at the bar, scrolling through emails and messages on my phone as I sipped my scotch, neat.
The plane ride had been blissfully quick and uneventful. I’d found Laurel’s excitement and childlike wonder of sitting in first class charming and refreshing. It had been nice to have a normal conversation with her without tales of our past, pranks, or bitter memories muddying the waters.
I found I was beginning to like present-day Laurel, and was looking forward to spending the evening with her.
“Hey,” I heard Laurel say timidly from behind me.
I turned with a smile, then faltered slightly at first glance.
Whereas before she’d stunned in a sexy, slinky black dress, tonight she was pure class in black slacks with a sheer, floral blouse. Her hair was long and loose, in stylish waves, and her makeup was tastefully done.
“You look beautiful,” I said, without any pretense. I always spoke the truth, and right then, the truth was that Laurel looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her look. Although I had never said it out loud before, I’d always grudgingly admitted that she was one of the loveliest women I’d ever seen. Even when we were younger.
It was the summer of my twelfth year, right before eighth grade, and we were all hanging out at the springs.
