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“Not yet.”
“I’ll wait then,” she says, putting it back in my hand.
I get out the car as it comes to a stop and look around the airport, warring with myself about what we’re doing. It’s more reckless than usual, but having someone with me is an anomaly for me, something that makes me feel a part of something rather than just on the side-lines. I frown and take a quick glance back at her as she gets out, too, and waits for me to direct her. She’s so quiet in her naivety, yet strengthened because of it. Perhaps that blankness of hers will be a help rather than a hindrance.
“Are you sure,” I ask, walking to her.
“About what?” she says. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be sure about. I only know that you’re the most real thing in my life about now. Everything else is a lie. I’m not doing lies anymore.”
Tom gets our bags out of the trunk and takes them to the plane, leaving me standing on the tarmac with her. I’m unsure at the moment, hesitating. It’s unlike me to give a damn, especially when it comes to women, but I am. I look her over, taking in the clothes, the appearance, and the sense of careless abandon she seems to be living in because of this offer of mine.
“Things will be implausible, Mrs Tanner. Unusual. People and acts will appear beyond normality for you. A diversion. Hedonistic and mostly laced with dark intent.”
“Presumably that’s what the pills are for.”
“Yes.” She scrunches her brow and fidgets in the wind, arms folding around herself.
“Will you look after me?”
“If you do as you’re told, yes.” Another deep scowl sets in, a slight sneer covering her mouth. “If not, no. I will leave you to the crowd without regard to your safety.”
“Charming. Not terribly chivalrous of you.”
“You only have to do as you’re told to get that result.”
She looks around the area, taking in my jet again, and then starts walking for it absentmindedly. I watch her hair dance in the breeze, then let my gaze drift lower as she covers the ground. Jeans today. A pair of blue heels. Matching top and long coat. All expensive, tailored. They’re a result of her husband’s work for me over the years, his salary. This version of her is probably the most real version I’ve seen yet. Not riled up. Not drunk. Not angry or wounded. Just simple. Classically cut and thoughtful. The perfect wife.
Jackson comes out of the plane, nodding at me as he jogs down the steps.
“All clear, Sir. Have a good flight. I’ll meet you on your return.”
Good flight. I’m not sure what will be good about it. I can remember the last time a woman was in this plane with me. It wasn’t good. It was argumentative and challenging. Difficult. For both her and me. But I follow Mrs Tanner up the steps into the jet, watching as he looks around. She nods briefly at the two crew working the plane as they welcome her on board, and looks back to me for direction.
“Go sit. Get comfortable,” mumbles out of me.
Her arms wrap around her and she heads into the main area, taking a seat in the one I usually use. She’s small in it compared to me, the brown leather wrapping around her as if cradling her.
“Buckle up,” I say, heading for the one opposite her. She arches a brow at me and sits still, not the slightest interest in her seatbelt.
“No. Not today,” she replies.
“No?”
“No. If the plane crashes, how will a seatbelt help me?”
She stares at my features as if she has every right to. It’s uncomfortable after a while, enough so that I back my returning stare off to look out the window instead rather than deal with it. I don’t want that. There isn’t any connection here, no thoughts of love or attachment. We’re singular, regardless of that near kiss we fell into the other night. I frown at the memory of it. Drunken maybe, but it’s the first time I’ve thought of kissing for a long time. An inch, that’s all there was between us. It was an inch too close.
The tarmac starts moving under us, as the crew start their checks and procedures. Noise ricochets everywhere. People and chattering, the engines roaring to life to get us into the air, the sound of the pilot talking and commencing his duties. I close my eyes and let it happen around me, annoyed with all of it and the incessant rumble of irritation, let alone the thought of a woman in here with me. And then it’s finally quiet again. Nothing but the two of us in a plane that hasn’t housed more than one in a long damn time.
I glance back at her sitting there, her seatbelt still unbuckled as she continues looking at me.
“You don’t care about safety?” I ask.
“You’ve offered me drugs, Gray. As if you give a damn about my safety.”
“Believe it or not, I’m the safest option on the planet to give drugs out. It’s been my life’s work.”
“Yes I know. You graduated Harvard early, took your PHD before others could barely recount their basics, and then set up Annox Pharma to look into new vaccines others hadn’t even thought of. Apparent genius, according to some.” My brows twitch under her scrutiny, wondering how much else she’s researched. “Yes, Gray. I looked you up earlier. Dug deeper than the first fifteen pages about you.” She looks me over again, taking her time. “Nothing personal. I expect you have it hidden somehow.” She’s right about that. “Still, fundamentally, you’re a dealer. Slightly better than hanging out on corners, but it’s the same connotation.”
