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“Congratulations! I heard it went amazingly.” She steps back, waggling her eyebrows at me. “I think this calls for a celebration. Let’s go for a ridiculously long lunch!”
I nod, letting her drag me out of the room. I listen to her gossiping about everything, nodding along and interjecting when it feels appropriate. But mainly I allow myself to finally wallow.
My phone buzzes when I enter my office again after lunch. I don’t really have work to do, since I’ve finished the project, so I’m a little lost. Pulling my phone out of my purse I answer and smile.
“Ani!” Cathy’s bright voice sounds down the line. Mr. Westerhaven’s PA is full of praise for my designs and wants to know how I’ve been enjoying New York City. But says the words that I’ve been dreading would eventually come.
“Your flight home is all booked.” Cathy cheerfully outlines all the details. Two days. I’m coming home in two days. Mr. Westerhaven originally asked her to book me a flight for tomorrow. My heart swells painfully at the thought.
“Don’t worry. I talked him out of that. You’re finally not working. You deserve a shopping day!”
I force a laugh. “You’re so right. I want to make my credit card cry before I come home.”
She hangs up, and I stare at the phone, feeling like there isn’t enough air in the room. I drop into my chair, staring unseeing out the window. It’s where I still am when David comes to find me. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Well done on the presentation.” He beams at me, and I nod robotically. “Your designs are fantastic, Ani. Everyone was blown away by them.”
I don’t want to talk about my designs right now. I smile brightly up at him, tapping my nails against the desk. “Cathy called. My flights back to Chicago are booked. I leave in two days. You’ll be happy to have your own space back.”
David blinks at me, a look I can’t decipher flashing across his face. He nods, smiling at me. Maybe I’m imagining it – I’m probably imagining it – but his smile seems as forced as mine is.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Anica
My flights got changed. David told me when we got home the night of my presentation to the board. Well, first, he laid me over the table near his kitchen and rocked my world. Afterward, when I had regained my breath and composure, he said he had some business in Chicago, so Cathy canceled my flight and Mr. Westerhaven is sending his private jet to pick us up tonight. I guess there are perks to flying with one of his nephews.
David is in the shower, so I take the opportunity to go back to my room. Well, I call it my room, but it’s mainly the place I’ve been keeping my stuff. I have slept in David’s room every night for the last month or so. My heart pangs, clenching painfully in my chest as I swallow. No. I won’t cry. No matter how much I’m going to miss that.
I check every nook and cranny, and in the bathroom, but I haven’t left any trace of me, even in the very back of the built-in closet. I head back to the living room, where my bags are all packed, waiting neatly beside the front door.
David strolls out of the bedroom looking sinfully handsome in jeans and a polo shirt. My heart thuds. Today is the last time I’m going to see him in person. He’s going to be too busy moving on with his life in Chicago and isn’t staying there long anyway. I don’t think I’m ready. I toy nervously with the hem of my baggy red sweater. David said that even though it’s a private jet, there isn’t a fancy dress code, so I’m wearing boots, jeans, and my favorite red sweater. It’s what I was wearing when I arrived in New York, and it seemed fitting to leave it the same way. Poetic, almost.
David’s phone buzzes as he approaches me, and he pulls it out. “Antonio says we should leave now if we want to make good time in traffic.”
Too soon. I swallow, forcing a smile as I nod, and Antonio appears, knocking on the door and letting himself in. He seizes my luggage and David’s suitcase, disappearing ahead of us. David offers me a smile, holding out his hand.
“Ready to head home?”
No. I smile back, placing my hand in his, and looking around this heavenly condo for the last time. With a sigh, I let him lead me down to the garage, our fingers laced together. I don’t ever want to let go. I can’t believe I got to live here for a little while, with David. I guess it’s back to reality now. Only one thing has ever sucked more.
David holds my hand all the way to the airport. As much as leaving sucks, I’m super excited about flying on a private jet. I’ve never been on one before. Honestly, I’m mainly excited that I get to spend more time with David. I didn’t think I was going to get this.
We don’t go to the normal, busy terminal at JFK where I arrived. Instead, we go to Teterboro Airport in New Jersey. I look around eagerly. For all the time I have spent in New York recently, I never came across the river to New Jersey. The car drives onto the tarmac, and up to a fancy-looking private jet. David guides me up the small stairs and I look around at the shiny mahogany tables and sideboard, and the gray leather seats embossed with the Haven Enterprises logo in gold. It looks exactly like I would have pictured a private jet. The epitome of luxury. I like that I’m going home like this. Just to draw anabsolute line underneath my time with David when I’m back on the L train avoiding wondering hands.
David shows me to a seat at the table, but doesn’t sit across from me, instead, he takes the chair beside me, buckling himself in and taking my hand, turning it over in his. He cups it with both his hands and presses a kiss to the palm, resting it in his lap and tangling our fingers together there.
“Why don’t you have your own private jet?” I whisper as the polite, professional flight attendants go through the safety demonstration. David’s lips twitch, and he kisses my hand again.
“I do. Well, Haven Properties does. But it’s in Dubai at the moment. They’re doing an inspection of a new site before the build.”
“Oh, it’s nice of your uncle to let you borrow this one.”
David’s response is cut off when the flight attendant comes over to request our drink order. Hey, I could get used to this. The plane takes off and the flight attendant brings over our drinks with a smile, moving back to the front of the plane.
I reach for my drink, but David snags my hand, tugging me toward the back of the plane. Uh, where are we going? I blink in surprise as he ushers me into the most spacious, nicest looking bathroom that I’ve ever seen on a plane. Wow. I want this at home.
“I don’t need the bathroom,” I mumble, my cheeks flaming. Also, I could have found it myself. It’s a small plane.
