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A man stood by the stairs leading up to the aircraft, hands gently folded.
Theo parked our car with the wheels opposite to the plane, and after turning off the engine, he put it in park.
“Afraid of this thing rolling into the plane?” I asked, smirking and slipping on my shoes.
“You’d be surprised,” was all he said before he unclipped his seatbelt and stepped out.
Touché.Theo would have more past experience with private jet snafus than I would.
I unfurled out of the vehicle and made moves to grab my bag from the back, but the man who had previously been in front of the plane, was now in front of me.
“Jeez, you move fast,” I said. He offered a small up-tick of one side of his mouth in return.
“Allow me, Miss,” he said while reaching for my bag. “Feel free to join your escort and board.”
“It would be my pleasure,” I muttered as I stared over his bent form to the imposing machine.
I wasn’t a nervous flyer—not exactly, anyway. But ever since my sister’s death, ridiculous ways of my life ending seemed to become more prevalent in my mind. Forget being shot at over the green felt of a poker game because of a cheating scandal, that was too tame. Try being in a plane, spearing through clouds and turbulence and then getting struck by lightning, only to have parachuted out and grabbed the one harness that didn’t click properly before flattening like a pancake as soon as I smacked into the ground (and then bounced).
That was more my mindfuck.
“Are you coming?”
Theo’s question brought me back to sanity, and I clip-clipped over to him like a lame mare. Along with the hoodie, I should have definitely fished my sneakers out, but Lurch had them now.
Theo held out his hand, but I avoided it and climbed the stairs myself. The feel of his skin was better left in memories.
When I tottered on the second last step, I held my palm up to prevent Theo from assisting. I would do this, even if I acquired infected blisters along the way.
Upon entering the aircraft, I shouldn’t have been blown away, but of course I was. How a metal tube could imitate a luxury hotel penthouse suite was beyond me, but this did. There was a lot of buttery toffee leather, thick beige carpeting, and some kind of bronze marbling along the side. Four seats of the same buttery color were directly in front, two facing each other on each side, with space to sandwich me in the middle of two people in each. Behind them were two long futons—or, in ritzy speak,lounges, that could fold down and convert into twin beds. Continuing the fancy language, a door to a lavatory was in the back in the same coppery marble as the interior framework.
“Take a seat wherever you like,” Theo said, coming up behind me. The beginning whir of the engines vibrated beneath my feet.
Theo’s Lurch entered after him and a flight attendant appeared from somewhere between me and the cockpit.
“Welcome aboard. My name is Andrea. Can I get you a drink?” she said. Her cheeks were luminous, her auburn hair even more so. The uniform she wore was tight-fighting, navy, and short, and the way her dewy lashes glossed over me and locked on Theo made me wonder if she was a conquest or if she had already yielded.
“Sure. Tonic, please, with lime,” I said.
What did it matter, anyway? Theo’s sex-life wasn’t my concern. His brother, and making him pay for his sins, did.
I pretended like I wasn’t serving myself a reminder and took a seat facing the cockpit. Theo sat directly in front of me, and zero surprise showed on my face.
“Are we expecting other guests?” I asked as Andrea busied herself in the galley at the back of the plane.
“Just us.”
I inspected everywhere except Theo himself. “You must be back in your family’s good graces, to be able to use this plane.”
Theo shrugged. “The FBI aren’t the only people Trace did a runner on.”
This time, surprise couldn’t be hidden. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
He raised his brows. “That depends. What do you think I’m saying?”
Goddamned poker players. “That Trace isn’t talking to his own family. His father, specifically.”
“Then you’d be right.”
