Next to Me (20 page)

“Bon jour Miss Rockwell. Your seat is right this way,” the sweet-looking flight attended says to me in a soft French accent. I begin to move to the right where it appears the business class seating is, but the attendant leads me to the left. I follow behind her and step into an area with maybe 20 seats.

No, they aren’t seats. They’re space-age, Star Trek-style lounging pods.

“Are you sure this is where I’m supposed to be?” I ask her in disbelief. I can buy that Dellinger would set me up in business class, but this is just too much. Although, now that I think about it, it makes sense that he would flaunt his money and power this way.

“Yes, ma’am. This is your seat right here, closest to the window. Can I get you anything before we take off?” she asks.

“Um…you can show me how to work this seat,” I tell her as my cheeks turn red from embarrassment. Could I look and act more out of place?

The kind girl doesn’t hesitate and with a smile proceeds to show me all the bells and whistles I’ll be able to enjoy during the 11-hour flight to Paris. She offers me lounging clothes and a wool blanket if I want to be more comfortable while I sleep in my chair that converts into a real six foot bed. She also tells me that I have a wide range of movies on demand that I can watch on my personal video screen. That’s all before she shows me the massage feature on my seat that also has a personal telephone. Finally, she explains that I’ll be able to enjoy a cocktail before a meal that will clearly make this the fanciest French restaurant I’ve ever been in.

“If you have any other questions or needs, please do not hesitate to ask. We’re here to ensure you have a wonderful flight.” We smile at each other and I sit awkwardly in my pod.

“Well, I suppose I should just get comfortable,” I say out loud to myself.

“I suppose you should.”

I turn toward the voice and find Landon standing next to the aisle seat.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him with mixed emotions. I’m mad that he didn’t leave me to do this on my own like I told him I wanted, but I’m also happy for the same reason. Any girl who tells you she doesn’t want the guy she’s madly in love with to come chasing after her is lying.

“I told you I didn’t care what you said. You’re not doing this on your own.” Landon sets his bag down and begins to get himself settled very matter-of-factly. I smile, deciding to let us have this time together now. But…once everything is over, and I have to disappear…well, I’ll figure out how to break his heart later.

“I was thinking about what you told Spring, you know…the cover story you gave her,” I begin as Landon sits.

“Let’s talk about that when all this is over and we’re warm, lying in your bed,” he says. He takes my hand and threads his fingers through mine.

I want to tell him that I would absolutely marry him. That the idea of spending the rest of my life with him is the happiest thought I’ve ever had. I want him to know in his heart just how madly in love with him I am. That way, when I have to leave, when I have to walk away, he’ll know it’s because I love him so much that I would sacrifice a life with him if it meant ensuring his safety.

It’s not long into the flight when the attendants start their rounds through what I found out is called the La Premiere class cabin and began offering cocktails and other cold beverages before dinner. We both opt for something simple, so Landon orders a Jack and Coke while I ask for gin and tonic. We sit quietly for a moment before Landon breaks the silence.

“I’d still really like to know about your dad,” he says quietly. His inquiry pricks a tender place in me that I had been ignoring since Dellinger, not my father, walked into that restaurant. I haven’t dealt with the tremendous disappointment that was. To say I was thrilled and overjoyed to see my father would be an understatement. When it wasn’t him, I was devastated. I couldn’t consider those feelings, though. I’ve had to plan out my deception to my friends and think about how I’m going to disappear. It’s only now that Landon is bringing him up that I’m really thinking about him.

“He was really great,” I begin. “He and my mom were married for 15 years before she died. He used to say she saved his life. He had been in a lot of trouble when he was younger. Grew up on the wrong side of the city, got involved with some bad people, ended up in a gang. He would tell me stories of those days and I always found it interesting how each guy in the gang fell into his own role. Leaders, lackies, muscle…my dad discovered that he had these mad lock picking skills. He could crack any lock or safe that wasn’t coded. He eventually developed this skill, this
way
, of getting into sealed display cases. He said that’s where the really valuable stuff always is, and that the people who can afford those kinds of pieces can also afford to have special cases for them.

“Once he honed his skill, he and Oz decided they were tired of the junk the guys were grabbing from pawn shops and they’d try to hit some more upscale places. It started out with consignment stores and moved to specialty collector shops, and eventually homes in Georgetown and Foggy Bottom. He had a rap sheet from when he would pull jobs with the gang, but he never got caught, not once, when he started hitting the better places with Oz.”

It feels strangely wonderful to talk about Dad. I’ve never really talked to anyone about him. I certainly never told my friends in high school about my dad’s past. Some of them had parents in politics and government. I only wanted them to know my dad as the owner of a really successful business, not some former thug. You put something like that out there and that’s all people remember.

“So, if your dad was living the gang life, how’d he meet your mom? Was she part of the gang, too?” Landon asks. His body is turned almost completely toward me. It’s one of the things I love about him. When we talk, he gives me his full attention.

“Oh, God, no! My mom was as straight and narrow as they come! They met at a party of a girl they somehow both new from high school. They both said they saw each other and just
knew
. They got talking and the rest, as they say, was history. Mom convinced Dad he could have a better life if he left the gang, so he did. He eventually convinced Oz to leave, too, so they started their own business. They got married a year after they graduated from high school and had me five years later,” I tell him.

“A good woman will make any man change his ways,” Landon smiles.

“Well, you can take the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, but you can’t take the wrong side of the tracks out of the boy. Dad was proud of his skills and often joked that he wished he could patent them,” I say with a small laugh. “When I was a kid I would watch him in his work room. He fixed household stuff in there all the time because our house was falling apart. But sometimes, I’d find him in there putting glass cases together and then breaking into them.  And he would buy these locks that were supposed to be so intricate that no one could pick them, but Dad laughed in their faces and picked every one.  You already know that he taught me how to pick a lock, which, as you witnessed, is actually a very handy thing to know. But as I spent more time in there with him, he would show me how to do more and more.

“It wasn’t really a big deal, but after Mom died, it was kind of how we coped together. It was just an activity to me, something that made me feel like I wasn’t alone. He took such good care of me then. He always did.”

“I’m so sorry, Jenna. It sounds like he was a really great dad. That’s rarer than you know.” Landon tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and brushes my cheek with his thumb. All I can do is nod. “So…how did he end up getting connect with Dellinger?”

“Dellinger’s home was robbed and Dad’s company was hired to replace the locks that night. Dellinger had some display cases that got smashed. Dad was thinking out loud and commented that it was such a lazy way to pull a job. Dellinger overheard him and asked what he meant. Dad, not being one to shy away from bragging on himself, told Dellinger that when he was a lesser man, he used to pull jobs like this, only with style.

“The Senator is a collector. He displays some of his findings, but he likes to keep most of it locked up. He’s the rich, arrogant type who finds complete satisfaction in just knowing that he has things that you can’t have, and he doesn’t like knowing that someone else has something that he wants. When he sets his sights on a piece, he makes it his. Sometimes that means bidding at auctions until he puts the other bidders to shame, and sometimes that means sending someone to get what he believes should be his. He comes from old money and has plenty of new money, too, so that’s never an obstacle.”

“So Dellinger threw more money at your dad than he had ever seen and offered him a job
recovering
what he wanted,” Landon says.

“I was so mad at my dad when I found out. I mean, that was the life that my mom had rescued him from and there he was falling right back into it. But, things were really, really tight after Mom got sick and stopped working. And then we had all her medical bills that insurance didn’t cover. We were in such a desperate state that I guess Dad didn’t feel like he had a choice. He didn’t want to live that life again. We were poor but we were so happy. Dad decided that he if was going to do this that most of the money would go toward paying for my college. But, since I couldn’t take any of that money with me, Oz paid for my college and set up a nice nest egg when he helped Veronica Matthews drop off the face of the earth.” I take a deep breath remembering the night I escaped and left my father to die under a tree.

“And because your dad bragged that he taught you everything he knew, Dellinger hasn’t forgotten that and now has a job that requires the skills only you and your father possess.”

“Yes.”

The flight attendant comes by and collects our empty glasses, shaking us from this serious conversation. We give her our orders for dinner and wine and a few minutes later she’s back with the most elaborately plated meal I’ve ever seen. I know I should enjoy every morsel of it because I’m never going to have the chance to travel like this again. I don’t know if I’ll have the same treatment on the way home. Hell, I don’t know if I’m even going to

make it home alive.

We eat and talk and treat our dining together like a normal date, despite the fact that we’re flying 35,000 feet in the air in the lap of luxury and I’m headed into an unknown situation. After dinner Landon suggests we watch the same movie on our personal screens so we can continue to enjoy this time together. I agree since there’s no need to rehash the maniacal madness of Henry Dellinger. There will be enough to deal with once we get to the hotel and Dellinger’s person makes contact with me.

We watch our movie and then sleep longer than I knew a person could sleep peacefully on a flight thanks to the full size bed my seat turned into. Otherwise, we have a pretty uneventful flight. It’s 11:00 am in Paris when we arrive, but 5:00 am body time. We go through customs and make our way to find our bags. As we enter the baggage claim area there’s a man in a suit holding a sign with my name on it.

“Geez! The Senator sure does know how to make an impression,” Landon chortles.

“I know, right?” I add. “I’m Jenna Rockwell,” I tell the driver. He nods and welcomes me to Paris, noting that he thought he was only picking up one passenger. I advise him that plans changed and he would be transporting both Landon and me. When he tells me he’ll have to charge an additional fee for the extra passenger, I tell him that’s fine and he can simply add it to the bill. Why not? It’s not my money.

We get our bags from the carrousel and are sitting comfortably in the back of a limousine within minutes. I try to keep my eyes open and enjoy the scenery but it’s futile. I slept on the plane but didn’t exactly get eight hours.

Landon nudges me to a more conscious state as I feel the limo come to a stop. The door opens and he gets out first so he can help steady me when I stand. The hotel looks like a huge mansion and is definitely not a Holiday Inn.

“Bienvenue! Welcome to the Shangri La Hotel. Are you checking in?” the man behind the counter greets me.

“Hello, yes, I am checking in. The last name is Rockwell,” I tell him. Landon is standing next to me with his arm around my waist. I’m grateful because on top of not feeling so great, I’m beginning to get nervous.

“Of course, Miss Rockwell. I have a reservation for you, but it only shows one guest. Will you be joined by your companion?” he asks in his lovely French accent. I totally get the appeal of this ridiculously sexy language.

“Yes, thank you,” I say.

“Alright, Miss Rockwell, here are your room keys, and, oh, I see there’s a note on your reservation. There is a package for you. Un moment s’il vous plait.” The clerk walks into a back room leaving Landon and me standing there with puzzled looks on our faces. He returns with an envelope and slides it across the counter to me. I shove the envelope in my pocket feeling like its contents are better suited to be read in the privacy of our room.

Pulling our suitcases behind us we find the elevator and then our room, which is absolutely exquisite. The furniture and linens are white with blue accents throughout. It’s light and airy and far too romantic. I told myself I wouldn’t cut things off with Landon until all of this was over and we got back to Chicago, so I can’t get swept up in the fact that we’re in the most romantic city on the planet. If I take things too far with him I’ll cloud my judgment and won’t be able to follow through with what I have to do to keep him and my friends safe.