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As we touched down and Paul let the blades stop spinning, I jumped out of the helicopter and turned. “Ma’am,” I said politely and offered a hand to Jamie.
Tom was the first to meet us, jogging across the soaked lawn. “Thank goodness you’re okay!” he said as he ran to Jamie, and the two embraced. I grimaced and stepped away for a moment. But then, there was a blonde woman in a cheap suit standing next to me.
“Mr. Slade!” she said. “Mr. Slade! Are the rumors true about you and the young lady you rescued?”
I ignored her question, hoping no one else heard her ask it.
“Hey, Eric!” called one of the photographers. “Smile for the cameras, won’t you? It isn’t often a billionaire touches down in a helicopter around here.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said, my cheeks stinging a little bit. I hadn’t anticipated there would be press here. Or that Tom would have rushed out to meet us—and taken the whole conference with him.
“You’re gonna be big news around here,” Tom said, and he shook my hands. “Eric. Seriously. I can’t thank you enough for finding her.”
Within moments the cameras were flashing and clicking, as the photographers captured the heartwarming moment when Tom thanked me for fetching his daughter back during the storm.
“Really,” I said awkwardly, “it was nothing.”
“You’re damn right it’s nothing,” said Tom. “Come on, the two of you. We’re going to have lunch on me after this one.”
“I’d love to,” I said, my eyes shifting between Tom and Jamie, who was smiling at me. She looked different this morning. Calmer, her face softer. She wasn’t clenching her jaw or looking defiantly at me, but instead was taking it all in. Taking me in.
“But I’m afraid I have to go,” I said.
“Go?” said Tom.
“Go?” said Jamie. Suddenly there was worry in her expression, and she looked at me, concerned.
“I need to get back,” I said. “Even if I’d like to stay.”
“Well, I’ll hold you to lunch back in the city,” said Tom, clapping me on the back. “Say goodbye, Jamie.”
“You’re really going?” said Jamie, and there was desperation in her voice. And suddenly I realized she was hoping I’d stay because we needed to talk.
But how could we talk with her father around? How could we say what we wanted to say?
And how could I explain to Tom, while he stood here palling around with me like I was some hero, about the secret I held in my heart?
I took one look around me—at the people laughing and clapping, and cheering, and the reporters with their notebooks. Hailing my return like I was a hero.
But I was no hero. Maybe I had it in me—I don’t know.
But I knew one thing. I was a liar. There had been deeper reasons I’d rushed to rescue Jamie. The way I felt about her. The feelings I had. And they were wild and uncontrollable. Just like the storm that had swept into our lives.
I had to go now. Before I said something before I did something. Before I followed my instincts to pull Jamie’s body close to mine and kiss her again like I had last night.
“I’m sorry,” I said, as I turned and stepped up into the helicopter.
“Wait!” said Jamie, and I turned. “When will I—I mean, when can I see you again? To say thank you?” Her eyes nervously moved to Tom, who had his back turned and was helping to corral the flock of people and journalists who were taking pictures.
I looked into her eyes. What hope was there for us, when people’s eyes would always be on us? When it had taken the worst nor’easter in thirty years to bring us together last night?
It was impossible. I knew it. And so would she. In time.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
I clipped myself in and put on my headphones.
“Where now?” said Paul gruffly over the mic.
