AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sophia
I didn’t knowyou could actually just bypass the regular security line when you own your own jet. I thought that was a movie gimmick to speed up the story. But here we are, half an hour after getting in the car, chilling on Lucas’s private jet. The seats are big, comfortable, and made of a buttery suede. We’re sitting across from one another, facing each other over a small table. I would have sat somewhere else, but that’s where he put me. Doesn’t mean I need to make conversation, though.
The plane picks up speed on the runway, pressing me back against my seat a little as it lifts off into the air. I gaze out the window as L.A. disappears below us, then spend some time imagining shapes in the clouds.
Damn it. I should have packed a book.
Am I being rude? Maybe, but if so, I’m not the only one. Lucas hasn’t said two words to me since we sat down. He’s scrolling through his various devices, no doubt keeping up with the million things that seem to be demanded of him as CEO of a massive investment firm. Still, he could at least tell me where we’re going and what I’m expected to do.
“Ms. Gallo, Mr. Hale, would you care for a bite to eat?” an ancient steward politely asks, having appeared from somewhere else on the jet, making the offer with a deferential tip of his aged head.
Lucas looks at me, allowing me to make the decision. I didn’t have time for breakfast, and all the relaxation after all the excitement of this morning has left me with a gnawing emptiness.
“Um, yes, please.”
“Mr. Hale?”
“We’ll eat together,” he says.
The steward tips his head again and disappears.
“What’s his name? Do you have more servants lurking on board?” The words blurt from my mouth without permission. Is this my attempt of nervous small talk?
“Servant is such an archaic word,” Lucas says dismissively. “He’s a highly valued and trusted employee.”
I raise one eyebrow. “That’s one question answered. Does he have a name, or should I address him as ‘highly valued and trusted flight deck employee number one?’”
A shadow of a smirk plays across his face. “His name is Carlin. And he’s quite the pilot.”
My eyes widen, and I whip my head around to stare out the window, checking for any signs that we’re dropping out of the sky. Lucas chuckles softly.
“Autopilot,” he clarifies. “Once we’re at cruising altitude, in the absence of severe turbulence, the jet can pretty much handle itself. And, to answer your other question, he is the only employee on board.”
The way he says that makes my belly clench way down low. I never thought I’d wish for turbulence. Just me and Lucas and the pilot-steward, alone in the big empty sky…
Nope, stop that.
I look out the window again, but not before I see the little glint in Lucas’s eye that makes me certain he knows exactly what I was thinking about.
“You know, commercial airlines do the same thing,” he says casually.
My heart does a little flip-flop. “Really? With all those people on board?”
“With all those people on board,” he says with a slight smile and confirming nod. “Although I’m sure you’ve noticed the pilots don’t actually leave the cockpit on commercial flights. They wouldn’t want to worry their passengers.”
I shake my head. “Never noticed. Of course, I’ve never been on a plane for longer than an hour, either.”
He raises his eyebrows and leans forward slightly, curiosity clear in his handsome, angular features. “Really? Didn’t your parents ever take you anywhere?”
I shrug, a little uncomfortable. “Not really. The one trip I did take was just up to Idaho to visit my mom. It didn’t go well, so there wasn’t a repeat journey.”
“Ah.” He looks thoughtful, and maybe even a little sympathetic. “Did she have split custody with your father?”
I shake my head again and give him a little smile, trying to steer the conversation away from my parents, a topic I’m not at all eager to discuss. “I guess your parents must have taken you everywhere. Did you fly on a private jet even when you were little?”
His eyes narrow slightly. “No. And I’m intrigued by the way you dodged my question. Is your father a criminal?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Is yours?”
