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I hadn’t flown in over ten years. That had been one of Katie’s biggest complaints. “We never go anywhere! Who drives to Florida? You’re such a buzzkill!”
That Katie. Such a nurturer.
Madison was very sweet, talking to me about baseball and telling me about pitcher anxiety. But I was on to her. The yoga breathing was for the birds. In order to get through the flight, I needed drugs, or perhaps a punch to the face. My hands were clammy as they called our flight. I did my yoga breathing and grabbed my carry-on. “Where are we going?”
Madison bit her lip and pointed at the puddle jumper parked on the tarmac. It was maybe a little bigger than my delivery truck. “They don’t do big commercial flights to Nantucket.”
“Oh. Right.” I wish I had been man enough to beg to take the ferry instead. My heart was thudding in my chest. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why am I doing this?
I glanced back at the airport. I could make a run for it.
But then the flight attendant scanned my ticket, and I followed Madison down the ramp then ducked into the smallest plane I’d ever been on. It looked like it was made for pre-schoolers. Madison grabbed a seat, and I took the one next to her.
“It’s probably just us.” She smiled at me encouragingly.
I tried to focus on her pretty blond hair, which smelled fantastic and hung in waves over her shoulders, but all I could think about were my throbbing temples, pounding heart, and the fact that this plane was so small—
Suddenly, five loud young men in their twenties climbed on board. They were whooping and laughing. They had identically perfect hair and were all wearing expensive aviator sunglasses even though we were inside.
“Tyler? Hey, guys!” Madison sprang up and hugged the first one. “I didn’t know you were coming out today.”
Tyler pushed
his sunglasses up on his head and carefully swooped his reddish-brown bangs back. “Of course we are. This is going to be the event of the year.” He snapped his gum and looked at me. “Who’s this?”
“This is my boyfriend, Bob. He’s not much for flying.” She laughed nervously as Tyler sized me up. His friends took seats and started ordering drinks.
I stood up and clasped Tyler’s hand, thrilled that not only was I taller than him but that my hand was twice the size of his.
He frowned from behind his collarless maroon-leather jacket. “You look familiar.”
“Huh.” I shrugged, playing dumb, but of course I knew exactly who he was. Tyler Dermody, associate vice president of Dermody Industries. I delivered to their warehouse in Southie at least once a week. “Boston’s a small town. We’ve probably seen each other around.”
Tyler gave me a disapproving once-over and turned back to Maddy. “You look gorgeous, by the way. This weekend should be interesting. I hear Sienna’s already started partying.”
Madison flopped back down in her seat. “What else is new?”
Tyler motioned to us as the flight attendant approached. “I’m buying drinks.”
Maddy wrinkled her nose. “It’s nine a.m.”
“Whiskey.” I nodded at him. “And they’re on me.”
Tyler shrugged in response then went to join his somewhat raucous friends. One of them had his phone out and was blasting something on YouTube. The other guys cheered.
“How do you know him?” I asked Maddy.
“Family friends—his parents and my parents have been close since we were kids.”
My impression of Tyler, from delivering to his company for the past year and from seeing him today, was that he was a “cock of the walk” sort. A cock of the walk liked to be in charge. They liked people to notice them. They carried themselves in a manner that let everybody know they had money and connections and not to fuck with them or worse, try to make them look bad. I’d seen him red-faced and yelling at his employees one day. He’d snapped at me one time when I accidentally put a wet package down in the wrong spot. He was not my type of guy.
But I’d been dealing with guys like Tyler my whole life. My firm had been full of them. They had pretended to be friendly, but deep down, they’d hated me. I’d always thought it was because of my dimple. They couldn’t buy a dimple. They hated that.
So I made sure to flash it when the flight attendant brought my drink, and I happily gave her my credit card. I tilted my mini bottle in Tyler’s direction. Drinks are on me, you douche!
But the plane started rolling forward, and any iota of alpha badassness I possessed dissipated, only to be replaced with a pounding heart and clammy hands. I knocked back the whiskey, and Madison stared. “Whoa. You sure you’re all right?”
I nodded as the plane turned and drove toward the runway. “Great.” I shifted in the tiny seat. “Is it hot in here?” I checked my seat belt and tugged at my jacket.
