Biker Babe in Black (15 page)

Margie brushed her hair in front of the mirror, and Remy opened the door wide enough to stick his head in to check on her.

“Hey, babe, an emergency has come up, and I am going to have to make some phone calls. I’ll leave the door open, and if you need anything let me know, okay?”

“Go ahead. I’m just going to brush my teeth and then I’ll be out. Maybe grab some grapes. I’m a little hungry.” She squirted toothpaste on her brush.

Remy closed the door. She didn’t brush her teeth but cocked her head to listen.
Is he still standing out there?
She opened the bathroom door. She’d figured right. Remy stood in the bedroom and contemplated whether to leave her alone.

“I feel fine. Seriously. Just a little tired. Go, Remy. Make your phone calls.”

Margie walked to the kitchen, grabbed a stem full of grapes, and carried them into the living room. She turned on the TV and settled down to watch a trivia game show. She sucked at trivia, but concentrated on the next question the host asked.

“What tower was built for the 1962 World Fair?”

Oh, oh, she knew this one! “The Seattle Space Needle.”

She guessed the answer right before the host repeated, “The Seattle Space Needle.” She punched the air in a half-hearted victory. If she’d possessed more energy, she’d jump up and down. She rarely ever guessed the right answers on these kinds of shows.

“What are you smiling about?” Remy walked into the living room.

Margarine grinned and gave him the thumbs up. “I answered one of the questions on the show.” She pointed to the TV. The screen showed a bunch of grade school kids who were smarter than the contestants playing the game. “I guess I could be smarter than a fifth grader.”

Remy clicked off the television and sat on the coffee table in front of her. He spread her legs apart and rubbed his hands up and down her thighs.

“How would you like to fly to Tahoe with me?”

Margie’s mouth fell open. “You mean on a plane?”

“That does usually involve flying. Unless you’d like to hitch a ride on a very crowded, noisy train,” he teased.

Remy waited for Margie to answer. He looked so delighted to invite her. Margie hated to break the bad news. No way in Toyotaville would she ever set foot on an airplane.

“I have some business that I need to take care of as soon as I get there, but after that, I figure we can take a couple days and order take-out food, relax, and spend some time together.” Remy raised his eyebrows.

Margie let her feet slide off the coffee table.
Is he plum crazy? Fly for fun?
She exhaled.

“I don’t fly.” She frowned.

“You mean you’ve never flown?” He stared at her.

“No, I mean I don’t fly. People are not made to be in the air. It’s that whole gravity thing.” She twirled the end of a hair strand. Did it make her odd not to trust a big, heavy metal object to keep her afloat in the sky?

Remy’s chin fell to his chest. “I can’t believe my Harley-riding angel is scared to ride in a plane.”

She squirmed on the couch. “Taunting me isn’t going to work.” She crossed her arms.

“Have you ever been to Tahoe?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“There is the most exquisite lake, and I know someone who owns a condominium that he loans out to friends. It’s situated right on the lake. I’d love to walk along the shoreline with you. Hold your hand. Kiss you in the moonlight.”

The descriptions of what they would do together did pique her interest. The place sounded romantic, and to spend more time with Remy and experience new things almost made her wish she could be brave enough to fly.

“We can fly on a private jet. Just you, me, and the pilot. I’ll hold you the whole flight. You’ll probably be so relaxed you’ll sleep the trip away.” Remy gathered both of her hands in his.

“No one will see me if I go berserk?” She narrowed her eyes, removed one of her hands from Remy’s grasp, and picked a piece of lint off her sweatshirt. Her hand trembled.

“No one.” He brought his finger up to his chest and drew an X over his heart.

“Are you sure you’re not lying about being a Boy Scout?”

Remy held up three fingers, and she frowned. “It doesn’t matter. Boy Scout or not, I don’t fly.”

Her left leg took up a nervous tic of its own, and Remy ran his hand along it. She knew he really wanted her to go on this trip, and she’d do anything to make him happy.
It’s only one trip, and maybe after this he’ll never ask me to fly away with him again. I can’t believe I’m even considering this
.

“You promise on your company’s life the plane won’t fall out of the sky?” She covered her face with her hands to scream.
What am I doing?

Remy moved her hands and gave her a big smooching kiss on the lips. This had to go on record as the most insane, incredibly stupid, totally asinine thing she had ever done in her life.

“We’ll go as soon as I pack a few things for us. You just stay here on the couch and rest. I’ll pack your bag for you and get everything set up with the pilot.” Remy kissed her one more time and hurried off to arrange their flight.

Even the size of Remy’s private jet intimidated Margie. The seatbelt lights flashed overhead, and Remy reached over to buckle her seatbelt for her. Her hands held the armrests in a death grip, and her legs bounced up and down out of control.

She’d almost suffered heart failure the moment the giant white contraption Remy called a plane came into view. Once inside the flying hell-mobile, her heart proved it could still beat and pounded erratically.

Great, now I’ll die up in the air, and Remy will have to finish the flight beside a dead woman.

“You’re not running a fever again, are you?” Remy laid his hand on her forehead.

Remy worried, but she assured him her fever had left and wasn’t coming back. The only thing bothering her now was the anxiety she suffered from the scheduled plane trip. Although, a nap did sound good; she hoped to sneak one in at the same time Remy tended to business after they arrived at the condominium.

The vroom of the engine accelerated, and the plane turned to move down the runway. Margie bit into her lower lip and applied more pressure to the armrests.

She changed her mind. “I want off.”

Remy rubbed her leg. “We’re almost in the air, and then it’ll be smooth flying.”

The plane picked up an enormous amount of speed, and the grass beside the landing strip blurred out the window. Margie forgot about the view outside the plane and turned to Remy.

“Stop. The. Plane.” She clawed at the seatbelt. “Get me out of this.” Remy grabbed her hands to stop her from unlatching the restraint. Margie fought him and, unable to free her hands from his grasp, she threw her head at him.

“Damn, babe, are you trying to head butt me?”

Margie swung her head in Remy’s direction again, but harder this time. No one could force her to fly, and she needed to get off right now,
before
the plane left the ground.

Remy unlatched his seatbelt and turned his body to wrap his arms around Margie. Unable to use her arms or her head, she kicked out at the seat in front.

“Shh… Any moment we’ll be in the air and the plane ride will become real smooth. You won’t even know we’re flying.”

Remy lied. The plane would crash, and she’d never live another day. She’d never see her family again, or wake up in Remy’s arms. Her future house she’d always dreamed about would cease to exist.

“Remember the first night we met? Do you know the first thing I noticed about you? Your self-respect. When you walked out of the restaurant after that little puffed-up manager fired you with your head held up so high, like you didn’t have a care in the world…I knew you were someone special.” Remy didn’t let go of her and kept talking in that low, husky voice he used only for her ears.

“Since the day I met you, Margarine, you’ve bewitched me. You entertain me. You make me laugh. I want to become a better person for you.” He laid his head against hers.

Soon after the signal for the seatbelts blinked off, the front end of the plane leveled out and Margie leaned back in her seat. She strained to hear anything indicating that the plane changed directions and now headed toward the ground, but even the engine seemed quieter.

“I’m going to take off your seatbelt, babe, and when I do, I don’t want you to panic. You can sit on my lap or even walk around on the plane.”

The click of the seatbelt echoed in her chest cavity. The swish-swish of her blood rushed in her eardrums, and Margie wondered if she’d die of a heart attack before the plane crashed to the ground in a million pieces.

Oh, Mother of Harley, the freaking plane isn’t moving.

Margie screamed and jumped out of her seat. Remy’s solid body blocked her exit.

“Move!” She shoved against him, but he didn’t budge.

He picked her up and sat back in his seat. He held both her wrists with one hand and kissed her.

At first she didn’t move.

She didn’t breathe.

Margie’s lips clamped shut, and Remy’s mouth forced her to take his kiss. His tongue and lips worked together to pry her mouth open.

With her mouth sealed with Remy’s lips, she forced her breath in and out through her nose, unable think about anything but dying in an explosive crash.

Margie became aware of a slow swirl of motion in the pit of her stomach. It brought about a flood of warmth that traveled up and around her chest. Her mouth relaxed and molded to Remy’s, and the roughness of the top of his tongue against the smooth, sensitive sides of hers drew her attention away from the flight and to him.

Remy released her hands, and she hurried to wrap her arms around his neck. She moaned. In his lap, safe and secure, she let herself relax.

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom to announce the travel weather was perfect for today’s flight and to sit back and enjoy the trip. Margie pulled her mouth away from Remy’s.

“Everything is going to be okay? The plane is flying?” Her face so close to Remy’s, she could only stare into his eyes.

“Yes, the plane is flying.” Remy leaned in to kiss her again.

Margarine pushed at Remy’s chest and peered around him to look out the window. The grass and concrete of the runway no longer visible, the only thing she saw was miles and miles of delectable blue sky and clouds.

“Do you want to sit back down?” Remy kept his hand on her back. Margie returned to her seat and gazed out the window. The panorama amazed her, and if she didn’t witness it for herself, she would have sworn the plane never left the runway strip.

“Do you want me to get you a pillow? Your seat reclines, and you can take a nap.” He loosened his tie and leaned back in his seat. “We have two hours until we set down.”

Margie didn’t understand how he didn’t want to glue himself to the window with her and view the world from this height. There wasn’t anything more important than this flight. She didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Remy, can I see the bathroom? Does the pilot let people into the cockpit? Oh, and what’s behind that little curtain over there?” Margie pointed to the back of the plane.

“Come on, I’ll go ask if Steve will let you co-pilot the plane with him.” He pulled her up by the hand.

“Seriously?” She squeezed his hands with both of hers. “Seriously!”

He grinned at her. “Yes. Let’s go ask him.”

“Oh, Harley’s mother’s mother. No one in my family is going to believe this!”

***

The air-conditioning inside the back of the limousine blasted Margie in the face. Margie laid her head back on the seat and let the cool air work its magic. The walk from the plane to the limo suffocated her; the weather was hotter and the altitude was higher than the Portland area back home.

“It’s a short ride to the lake. I’ll tuck you into bed before I take off to the job site.” Remy opened his briefcase and pulled out a file.

Margie’s fever never returned, but it had taken a chunk out of her energy. The beginning of the plane ride took the rest. Her eyes were gritty and dry, and she fought to keep them open.

“Will you be back in time to eat dinner with me?” Margie straightened his tie and fingered his hair back off his forehead.

Remy looked exhausted, and she realized he didn’t sleep a wink last night because he’d nursed her through her fever. Yet, as usual, he pushed himself into his work with his never-ending don’t-stop-until-the-job-is-done attitude.

“I’m hoping to, but I won’t know until I see what’s going on at the construction site. Either way, I’ll give you a call to let you know when to expect me.” He closed the file and laid it on top his briefcase.

Remy escorted Margie to the single unit condominium he’d arranged for their stay. She shielded her eyes with her hand and gazed between the trees where Remy pointed out Lake Tahoe. Glad she took the trip, she looked forward to Remy showing her around.

Inside the house, the big cushy bed in the master bedroom tempted Margie to lie down. She stifled a yawn and kissed Remy goodbye. Exploring would have to wait. She needed to sleep.

Margie woke with the bedroom bathed in darkness. She squinted to make out the hands on her watch, but her eyes couldn’t focus. She thought Remy might return to have dinner with her, but not this late at night. Did she not hear the phone ring?

She shoved the covers off, walked over to the desk, and turned on the lamp. Margie wrinkled her nose. Ten o’clock. She’d slept longer than she’d planned. Earlier, Remy had given her a cell phone, and she searched through her purse.
That’s strange. He didn’t leave a message
.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Maybe the kitchen contained something edible to eat.

Like Old Mother Hubbard, she found the cabinets bare. The owners must expect everyone to eat out or bring their own food supply. She imagined they didn’t want food to spoil during vacant periods.
There must be a restaurant close by.

Margie didn’t have any transportation, but the tourist town must have a cab service she could use. She walked back to the bedroom and rummaged through the desk for a phone book. She’d take a cab ride through the drive-thru of a local fast food restaurant and return with enough food for both of them to eat tonight.