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“Why would it matter if I was?”
“Because nine months is a long time for us to coexist in a hostile environment.”
A small grin tipped up the corners of his mouth, erasing his odd mood. “Hostile is a strong word.”
“We’re wrapped up in this weird place between nostalgia and practicality.”
“It doesn’t have to be weird. You and I are friends. One friend helping another.”
“Don’t make me out to be a saint. You’re replacing my lost salary,” Felicity pointed out.
“I know you, Fliss. I suspect you might have done it for nothing if I had asked. Right?”
His question took her by surprise. But she gave it serious thought. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “I like helping people.”
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.” His words were strangely formal.
“Don’t be dumb,” she said, feeling cross and torn in a dozen directions. “I had my tongue down your throat, so I think we can safely assume the feeling was mutual. But that doesn’t mean it was smart.”
“So many rules,” he said. “Don’t you ever want to throw open that emergency door midair and see what happens?”
She chuckled. “Now I know you’re kidding. I thought your daredevil days were behind you.”
“I pay a crap ton of taxes. I have a hefty mortgage and health insurance. But I’m still the same guy inside.”
Was it true? Was the teenage boy Felicity fell in love with still part of this complex, mature, oh so sexy adult male?
“I need to go,” she said, glancing at her watch.
Wynn held up Ayla’s hand and used it to wave. “We’ll miss you.”
Her heart clenched. Spending a lazy Sunday afternoon in the apartment with the two of them sounded wonderfully appealing. But that was exactly why Felicity was going out.
She had to avoid temptation, and she wanted to remind herself that her life and her world were only on hold.
When she arrived at the grand old hotel, Reagan, Paul and Rico hugged her. “I heard you aren’t flying right now,” Rico said. “What’s that all about?”
“I’ll tell you the whole story while we eat.”
Their table in The Palm Court was lovely, the food and service even better. Felicity enjoyed the meal, but far more wonderful was being with her friends again.
To outsiders, they were an unlikely foursome perhaps. Reagan was Connecticut old money, a black-haired blue-eyed debutante who drank Scotch and cussed like a sailor. Paul had moved to the East Coast from LA years ago. After trying to make it as a musician, he still sang in bars and clubs when he wasn’t flying. Rico came from a strong Puerto Rican clan in Queens and was the first of his family to graduate from college.
Despite all their differences, Felicity and the other three had trained together and remained good friends. She realized that in every way that mattered, these three people were the part of the family she had chosen in life.
Paul finished his mimosa and tapped his spoon on his glass. “Enough chitchat. Tell us why you’ve called this meeting.”
Felicity laughed. “Can’t a woman just miss her friends?”
Rico shook his head slowly. “You forget how well we know you, chica. You wouldn’t give up your job for a whim.”
Reagan nodded. “You never even take sick days. This must be really big. Unless you’re dying.” She gasped. “Is that it? Are you dying?”
“I’m not dying.” Felicity sighed. “It’s a long story.”
The other three stared at her. Paul patted her hand. “Spill, girl. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Felicity told them everything. Starting with high school and including Shandy’s funeral and then bringing the story full circle to Ayla and Wynn and her new address in New York. She didn’t talk about the high school sex or the more recent kisses that had shaken her foundation and made her stomach do crazy flip-flops. But she admitted she was rethinking her decision.
