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“You’re right,” Travis said glumly. “We don’t want to push him.”
“Exactly. Besides, this is Logic-Man. Remember how we used to call him that when we were kids?”
“Yeah,” Travis said, trying his best to sound convinced. “You’re right. Logic-Man will definitely not do anything—”
“Precipitous,” Jake said, and the brothers flashed each other smiles that only they would have recognized as false.
High above the earth, still hundreds of miles from Dallas, Logic-Man stared out the window at a sky filled with puffy white clouds.
A bed of clouds.
As white, as welcoming as the bed he’d shared with Sage hours before.
Sage.
Those angry tears in her eyes when he walked out—
Tears he could have kissed away.
Tears he could have changed with the words he’d felt filling his heart.
Caleb shot to his feet and went to the cockpit.
“Ted?”
“Yes, Mr. Wilde. I was just going to ask Sally tell you the weather’s improved. No need to buckle in or—”
“We’re going back.”
“Back, sir?”
“To New York. To Kennedy Airport. If you need to file a new flight plan, whatever—”
The pilot smiled.
“No problem, sir. Next stop, Kennedy.”
Caleb nodded, returned to his seat, and tried to figure out how to handle the battle that would come next.
By the time they landed, he still didn’t have a clue.
What would he say that could possibly convince Sage he only wanted to do what was right?
She was so damn independent. So quick to get ticked off.
He’d phoned the limo company before the plane touched down. They’d have a car for him in an hour.
Wait another hour, to deal with this mess? To hell with that.
He phoned Hertz instead, rented a car.
“Any special model, sir?”
“Whatever you have that’s fast.”
A long, low, mean-looking sports car was already purring when he climbed into it. The trip to Brooklyn, end-of-the-world Brooklyn, should have taken an hour.
He did it in thirty minutes.
