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Her eyes landed on the clock on the nightstand. She bolted upright when she saw the time. “It’s almost eight o’clock. Why’d you let me sleep so late?”
“You needed it,” Lucien said, setting the tray next to her in the middle of the bed. After plumping his pillows, he propped himself up on his side of the bed and leaned back against the headboard.
“Okay, what’s this all about?”
Before giving her an answer, he snatched a piece of bacon off the plate and crunched his way to the end. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure you do. The last time you brought me breakfast in bed was six months ago when you tried to charm me into taking that trip to wine country. What have you done now?”
He pushed a plate of eggs toward her. “Best not to let them get cold. We need to get moving soon if we’re heading down to L.A.”
“Which is why I didn’t want to sleep so late. Why do you keep changing the subject?”
“Because I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Oh, no. What did you do?”
“I chartered the jet to fly us down to Carson. Before you say anything, it makes perfect sense to fly versus spending seven hours in a car. I’ll be right there beside you the entire time. And you know the pilot. Personally. Ewan Campbell has successfully flown Indigo around the world for over fifteen years. He’s flown you and me around the world with the band as kids.”
Fear had already taken hold. The panic lodged in her chest. She felt her throat close. It felt like two strong hands tightening around her throat. Swallowing hard so she could talk, she managed to spit out, “No.”
“I got the idea last night when you were reminiscing about Malta.”
“No,” she repeated.
“Okay, then you stay here. Enjoy your Sunday. I’ll go talk to Toussaint and be back here by four-thirty.”
“No. Don’t go. I don’t want you to fly either.”
“Brogan, we’ve talked about this. Car accidents happen with more frequency than air disasters. Chartering the plane makes sense to save time. The flight to Long Beach Airport will take an hour and fifteen minutes versus seven hours sitting in my pickup in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Then there’s the return trip to consider during the weekend—everybody rushing back home on a Sunday night. Obviously, I’d never force you into a decision. But I’ve already called Ewan. The 767 will be waiting at the landing strip outside town in an hour. It’s the same plane you’ve known and used for twenty years. It’s familiar, not strange surroundings. Ewan is the same guy you’ve trusted before to fly you back east. It’s the safest option.”
“But such a short flight means I can’t sedate myself—with anything. No. I won’t do it.”
He had expected this reaction. He scooted closer, taking her into his arms and kissing the top of her hair. “It’s okay. I understand. But I have to go. There’s no one else to do the interview. And we need to talk to this woman.”
“No, you don’t understand. If you did, you wouldn’t call Ewan behind my back. I don’t want you to fly, not even with him. Why can’t you understandthat?”
“I’ll be fine. You’ll see. It’s not like I’m going on tour. I’ll be back by dinnertime.”
“No, Lucien. Remember, those short flights are the worst. My mother died less than two hundred miles from home. That plane dropped out of the sky like a rock.”
“That was bad luck combined with horrible weather and a stupid corporate pilot at the controls who decided to fly through a thunderstorm. Ewan doesn’t take risks. You know that. He’s military trained. He flew for British Airways for twelve years before your dad bought the leasing company and hired him away from the airlines. Do you think Rory would’ve put his family or bandmates in the hands of a pilot he didn’t fully trust? No. Ewan is the best pilot there is. Rory knew that.”
“Even bad things happen to the best pilots.”
“That’s true. But driving has its risks, too. Flying is statistically safer than driving.”
“What do statisticians know? They’re a bunch of number crunchers who get it wrong most of the time. It just takes one mistake to crash. Or one engine to fail and the pilot can’t recover.” Fat tears streamed down her face. “If I could go, I would.”
“It’s okay, baby. It is. I’ll be back this afternoon. I promise.”
“Don’t say that. My mother said the same thing. She promised to come back and look what happened to her.”
“Your mom was flying in a corporate jet. I’ll be in a wide-body 767 with four engines on a short flight. There’s no comparison.”
She wiped back tears. “I’m not sure I can get on the plane. But if I did go—and I’m not saying I will—you’d have to sit next to me the entire flight and hold onto me. I might get hysterical. What would you do then?”
He remembered another time when she’d curled up in a fetal position on another flight. “I’ll sit next to you and put my arms around you the entire trip. I’ve done it before. You know I have. I’ve never let you down yet, have I?”
