Break (9 page)

Oh, right.
I felt a stab of nerves as the limo rolled into SFO. “I suppose this would be a bad time to mention that I’ve never flown before?”

“You have got to be kidding.” He scowled when he realized I was serious. “Shit. This is going to be a nightmare.” He ironed his face with his hands and then suddenly his head perked up. “Please excuse my language.”

I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or yell. “Hey,” I said a bit defensively. “I’m not terrified of planes or anything, I’m just saying that I’ve never flown before. Whoa—”

A wall of people holding cameras blocked our exit from the car, madly clicking away.
Holy shit.

“Paparazzi?”

“Yeah. Look alive,” said Luke in a neutral voice.

Clearly, he was used to this sort of thing.

It was daylight, so at least we didn’t have to walk into blinding camera flashes. The driver opened the door and their screams blasted into the car, which had been silent only a moment ago. He slid out of the car first.

“Mr. Pardini!”

“Luke, what do you have to say about the merger with Hilton Hotels?”

I took Luke’s hand as I got out of the car. The horde of paparazzi closed in around us and shouted his name, demanding to know where we were going and what was his opinion and who was the girl standing next to him? I clung to Luke instinctively and shrank from the men closing around us. He tugged my arm, but I was afraid to squeeze between the people clustered around us.

I met his puzzled, blue eyes and his expression became one of concern. He pulled me against his chest and I loved his protective heat, and as Luke walked they parted from him. He said nothing to the screaming voices but beamed at them, as if posing for a photograph. A light flickered inside my head and I grabbed Luke’s shirt, forcing him to stop. Before he could utter a word, I hooked my hand around his neck and crushed my lips against his.

They want a picture? I’ll give them some juicy gossip.
I could imagine the headlines:
Luke Pardini seen kissing blonde trollop at SFO!

Okay, they probably wouldn’t use that word.

The kiss made me feel more alive than I had in years. Heat simmered in my chest and I could hear them still clicking away, shoving their cameras in our faces, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to cling onto him and savor the moment for as long as possible. My hand rested over his chest and I could feel his lean muscles under my fingers. I raked my fingers through his thick hair and when we finally broke, it was to breathe.

I didn’t know why I did it—I wasn’t really thinking, but my hand slid down his chest and around his abdomen. His body was so fucking hot, that I wasn’t really thinking straight, and I lightly stroked the curve of his ass. His nostrils flared and his eyes smoldered. He laughed a bit into my lips and pinched my waist with his fingers. I snapped out of it. I had been so caught in the moment that I didn’t realize I had taken a flying leap over our professional arrangement and had crossed into the territory of sexual harassment. I couldn’t tell if he was turned on or pissed off.

A rush of self-loathing filled my guts.
Jessica, you idiot.
My little ass-grab would be plastered all over the tabloids.

Luke turned away, the moment broken, and plowed through the crowd. The waiting agents at the airport took our bags from the driver, who left the moment Luke handed him an envelope.

“This way, Mr. Pardini.”

He kept a firm grip on my hand as we walked through the airport, and we bypassed the normal security to go through some sort of VIP screening process. As the agents loaded our luggage on the conveyer belt, Luke turned towards me. His cheeks were a bit pink, and it thrilled me. He leaned into me and I flushed under his accusatory stare.

“So, care to explain what that was all about?”

I thought that my cheeks would be stained permanently red. I lowered my gaze. “I was just acting for the cameras.” I cringed at myself as Luke’s dry laughter shook through my body.

“Yes, you certainly were.”

The amount of smugness in his voice should be made illegal.

It was all right, though. At least he wasn’t mad. I got a bit carried away, but still, my guilt stayed with my all the way to the small jet was waited for us on the tarmac. I seized Luke’s hand and my nails bit into his palm.

I looked at him in alarm as the driver opened the doors of the Porsche.

“Relax,” he said unhelpfully.

The scream of jet engines echoing throughout the yard, I climbed the steps to the jet. I chose one of the ten white leather seats near the middle, but I couldn’t decide whether the flight would be more terrifying with the window open or closed.

The stewardess practically bowed to Luke as he entered the plane. He spotted me huddled into my seat.

“Jessica, I need to do some work. Will you be fine?”

I waved him off. “Yeah, whatever.”

He chose a seat with a table and reached into his bag to remove his laptop. The door slammed shut and soon after that I felt the roar of the jet engine under my thighs.
It’s so loud. Is it supposed to be this loud?

The seatbelt light flared on and I quickly grabbed the belt, missing the buckle several times in my haste to secure myself.

“So where do they keep the parachutes?” I said to Luke, who looked up from his computer.

“Uh—there are none. There’s a floatation thing under your seat, though.”

What?
“Well, that’s stupid,” I said. “What if there’s an attack or an explosion and we’re plummeting down?”

He looked at me coolly. “Then we’ll die.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m okay with the logic of it.” He shook his head before returning to his laptop screen.

I gripped the sides of my armrests as the plane lurched forward. I had to remind myself that the flight was nine hours long.
Calm the fuck down!
Maybe I could have one of those mini liquor bottles.

What if I died without saying goodbye to Natalie? I opened my phone and sent her a quick text:
Plane’s leaving now. You’ve been an awesome friend. I’ll call you when/if I land.

There. If I died, at least Natalie would know how much I cared. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as the plane began to turn. Something bumped into my seat and my eyes flew open.

It was Luke. He sat down in the adjoining seat in an effort to calm me down. It would have been sweet if only he would stop laughing at me.

“This isn’t funny,” I said through my teeth. I reached over and shut the window.

“It is, though.” His voice was strained with the effort of keeping from laughing.

I groaned as the flight attendant’s voice spoke over the intercom, telling us to prepare for takeoff.

He broke into fresh peals of laughter as I buried my face in my hands, then Luke lifted the armrest and pulled me into his arms. I relaxed as he snaked his arm around my shoulders. My face was nestled between his neck and shoulder. I breathed in the smell of his cologne and shivered in his arms. It was incredibly soothing. What would it be like to fall asleep like this, every night?

“I think I know how to distract you.”

It was working. All I could think about was how nice it was to be held like this. Then the jet suddenly soared forward and Luke let out a grunt as I seized a handful of his arm.

“There, there. It’ll be all right.”

His fingers were under my chin, making me tilt my head back. Then his soft lips kissed me gently, making me gasp. I couldn’t believe how sensitive my lips were. I felt desire radiating like a heat lamp, pounding all the way down my abdomen. He pulled back as I responded more passionately.

Fire licked my face. There was no one here to see us, save for his flight attendants. Why was he toying with me like this? When he pulled away, I thought I could see some of my confusion mirrored on his face.

I buried my face into his chest when I felt the wheels lift from the ground. It was the most curious sensation. At the same time that I felt the weight lift, pressure increased over my shoulders as we climbed into the sky. Luke reached over and opened the window, revealing a field of blue beneath us.

“See? It’s not so bad.”

“I guess not.”

“How come you’ve never been on a plane?”

I snorted at the question. He might as well have asked why I didn’t own a yacht.

“I grew up poor in foster homes where no one gave a shit about me. No one would have flown me anywhere.”

He made a deep sound that rumbled through my back. “How ironic. My dad put me on a plane the moment my mother died.”

Something cold went through me as I imagined a dark-haired nine-year-old boy, surrounded by strangers on an airplane, wiping tears from his eyes.

“What did she die of?”

I felt his sigh through my back.

“She committed suicide.”

My whole body stiffened. His hand still rubbed my shoulder, as if I was the one who still needed comfort. In a way, I did. I felt terrible. I wanted so badly to turn around and hug him. Luke’s voice was very even, but I could detect a note of resignation.
She killed herself. She didn’t love him enough to stay alive.

It would mess with anyone’s head.

“That’s fucking horrible.” Against my will, I found myself wondering how she did it.
Did he find the body? Why did he tell me this?

He shrugged. “I’m over it. I think.”

“There’s no way you’re over it,” I blurted. I felt a rush of self-loathing for not keeping my opinions to myself. “I’m sorry. I keep trying to filter my thoughts, but it doesn’t work.”

He weakly chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone’s always sucking up to me, hoping I’ll advance their career or give them money or something. I’m sick of it. Besides, maybe you’re right.”

“Why don’t you just cut ties with people who suck up to you?”

“Because then I’d have to fire a good ninety-percent of my employees and cut ties with most of my family. I can’t just do that.”

Sure you can
, I thought. “Well, I promise I’ll never do that. I don’t think I’m capable. I was never taught manners, for one.” Bringing this up gave me a fresh wave of anxiety. “Seriously, you’re going to have to teach me.”

He leaned in so that I could feel his breath whistling in my ear. “Jessica, relax.” He patted my arm. “Sorry, but I need to do some work.”

I left him alone for the rest of the flight. Aside from a few bouts of turbulence, the rest of the ride was uneventful. I was excited for the three-course meal, but frowned at the small pile of minuscule black balls with the tiniest spoon I ever saw. Next to it was a stack of crackers. I peered at the menu. Caviar.

My first thought as I tasted it was:
This is supposed to be a delicacy? It tastes like fishy salt.

The next item on the menu was much better.
Maine lobster and butternut squash sauce.
I devoured the cheery, orange-red lobster and sauce, marveling how buttery it tasted. Mentally, I was taking notes for the soup kitchen. Getting approval for lobster would be next to impossible. I looked at the menu eagerly for the third course:
Princess cake with navel orange marmalade.
What the hell was a Princess cake? Was it blessed by an actual princess or something?

I had fun taking pictures of all the courses with my phone, scribbling down in my journal what each one tasted like. Luke barely touched his plates, occasionally looking over to see what I was doing, and perhaps wondering why I got so excited over food.

Now that my anxiety over flying was mostly over, my brain boiled over how I would eventually be confronted with Luke’s friends and family. He counted on me to make this work, and to convince his father that this romance was real. I felt a rush of warmth in my cheeks as Luke looked up from his laptop and smiled at me. I couldn’t stop thinking about how he held me in his arms, his eager mouth and hard body. When he smiled at me, my heartbeat galloped ahead.
It’s a little bit too real.
I had to keep reminding myself to not get attached. When this was over, Luke and I would go our separate ways.
Get a grip.

Luke returned to sit beside me when we started to land. “Why?” I asked.

“Landings are worse.”

Sure enough, the horrible free-falling motion made my guts clench. I clutched Luke’s hand and squeezed when the plane dropped. He snorted with laughter whenever I let out a high-pitched squeal.

“I’m glad you find my fear so amusing,” I hissed. “Didn’t you take an ethics class to become a proper gentleman?”

He tried to force his mouth into a neutral line, but failed. “No.”

I cringed as we plummeted what seemed to be a hundred more feet, bristling as Luke guffawed at my terror. As the plane made a right turn, London sprawled underneath us in a series of yellow lights.
I’m really here.

After we landed, a Rolls Royce whisked us off the airplane and dropped at Heathrow’s main terminal. A gaggle of paparazzi stood in the lobby, elbowing each other as soon as they saw us. Luke’s guards fended them off, but this time the camera’s bright flashes exploded all around me. Clutching Luke’s arm, I walked out of Heathrow and inhaled my first breath of London.

I noticed the differences right away: the tiny cars, the black Hackney taxis, and a barrage of languages and English accents. I couldn’t wait to see it all.

Once the paparazzi cleared away, we entered into our car and sped towards our hotel. Luke’s hotel. We exited the car in a location that had an uncanny resemblance to New York’s Times Square. I stared at the screen that wrapped around a building in the middle of two streets, flashing colorful advertisements as a slew of people jostled me down the street. Luke tugged my arm and I looked up, staring at the giant letters over the hotel lit up like golden candles: PARDINI.

We entered the hotel, the beige marble floors polished so well that I could see my own reflection.

“Good evening, Mr. Pardini.”

The receptionists obviously knew him by name. Luke inclined his head and continued to the elevators. Oh, right.
He doesn’t need to check in. Duh.
I followed him into the elevator as the bellhop rolled our luggage inside.