Sky High (Three Contemporary Novella's) (2 page)

So before he could pull her any further into conversation, she retrieved her iPad from the seat pocket. “I have so much email to catch up on,” she said with an apologetic shrug. “I’d better get started.”

Simon was silent for a moment. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you from your work.” He pulled out his own laptop and settled in to work. If she felt a twinge of disappointment about that, it was nobody’s fault but her own.

More than two hours later, she glanced up from her iPad and stretched the stiffness out of her neck. Simon was still bent over his laptop, scowling, and typing lengthy missives every minute or two. He’d paused long enough to ask for a cup of coffee an hour ago and that was it. He was driven, that was for sure. Just like her.

“Ladies and gentlemen,”
the intercom buzzed overhead.
“They’ve had some volcanic eruptions this month, and it appears the one just outside the city is kicking up a fuss today. At present, Mexico City has closed their airspace to all air traffic.”

A collective groan went up from everyone on board.

“We’ve been rerouted back to JFK. We should have you back on the ground around three p.m. local time. We’re sorry for this inconvenience, but sometimes Mother Nature just doesn’t want to cooperate with our plans.”

“Are you
kidding
me? They’re re-routing us all the way back to
JFK
?” Pulling out her credit card, she purchased the airline’s overpriced in-flight Wi-Fi and logged into her company’s server.

“I suppose I’d better get in touch with my office and see when the next flight is,” Simon said, dragging a hand across his face.

Cassie slumped back in her seat. “Not until tomorrow morning.”

He glanced at her.

“I work for a travel agency. Inside information. I just checked and the rest of today’s flights are already full.”

“Bloody hell,” Simon sighed. “That’s today gone.”

“Exactly.” She turned her attention back to her iPad, moving her flights and hotel to the next day and emailing everyone on both ends to let them know about her delay.

Marianne was back, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about this, folks. Can I get you something to drink to ease the pain?”

Simon closed his laptop with a decisive snap. “Absolutely. Gin and tonic, please.”

Cassie decided to dismiss her rule against drinking with businessmen. Today required alcohol. “That sounds good. I’ll have the same.”

Marianne started to turn away but Simon held up a hand to stop her. “Wait. Are you up for a little fun, Cassandra?”

Those words shouldn’t have sent that frisson of electricity down her back the way they did. “What kind of fun?” she asked warily.

“Do you have champagne?” he asked Marianne.

“We do, but it’s extra.”

He smiled and pulled out his credit card. “For the lady as well. Bring four, please. For later.”

“All right, then,” Marianne said, throwing Cassie a conspiratorial smile.

“What was that about?” she asked when Marianne had departed.

He leaned back in his seat. The focused businessman of the past two hours was gone. Now he looked relaxed, inviting and stupidly attractive. “We’re going to end up spending over five hours in the air today only to end up back where we started, and we still have to do the whole business over again tomorrow. I just lost a day in meetings, and I’m sure you did, too. I say we’ve earned this. So…have a drink with me?”

This guy was nothing but trouble. Even so, she felt herself returning his smile without really meaning to. “Okay.”

“So…” Simon said, ruffling his carefully-groomed hair with one hand. It looked much better ruffled. It made her want to ruffle it for him. It made her imagine him shirtless on a beach instead of buttoned up in a suit. “You’re headed to Mexico City—
were
headed to Mexico City—for work?”

“Connecting in Mexico City,” she said. “Heading to the coast eventually. What a mess. I had to reschedule everything.”

“Me as well. This puts me behind on a million other projects, too. Still, nothing to be done for it now.”

“What are you doing in Mexico?”

“I work for an investment firm. I’m sort of their ‘eyes on the ground.’ I visit the companies we hold shares in and see how they do business. One of our investments in Mexico is launching an expansion and I’m headed there to check it out.”

“Wow, you must travel as much as I do.”

“I log a lot of hours in airports,” he said grimly.

The flight attendant deposited two flutes of champagne and two extra individual bottles along with a fruit plate in front of them. “On the house,” she said with a wink.

Simon tugged his tie loose and popped the top button of his shirt, which made him immeasurably more attractive. Her vision zoomed in on the tiny V of pale gold skin at the base of his neck and it took effort to raise her eyes back to his when he spoke again. “Well, Cassandra, here’s to making the best of a bad situation.”

“Cassie.”

“Pardon?”

“You can call me ‘Cassie.’”

He smiled and it set fire to something low in her stomach. His eyes were such a clear, pale blue. They should have been cold, but as his gaze darted quickly down to her lips and back up, there was nothing cold about them. And nothing cold about the way that brief glance made her lick her lips. “Cassie, then.”

She raised her champagne flute and touched it to his. “To making the best of a bad situation.”

“From where I’m sitting,” he murmured. “The situation is definitely improving.”

Holy hell,
Cassie thought. This conversation just went from polite business chit-chat to full on flirtation in under thirty seconds. This guy was good. She took a long sip of her champagne to cool off her racing thoughts…and racing libido. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to start lobbing sexual innuendo back and forth with Simon for the next three hours so she steered the conversation back to more neutral waters. “Do you live in New York, then?”

He nodded. “You too?”

“Yes, ever since I got out of college.”

“Have you worked in travel all that time? It was travel, right?”

“Yes, corporate travel. I love the industry, it’s what I always wanted to do. But…”

“What?”

“I love my job. I really do. But the travel isn’t nearly as glamorous as people think it is.”

He laughed. “No, it’s not. Not at all. I can’t remember the last time I spent a full week sleeping in my own bed.”

“Exactly! And all the fantastic places I go? They might be great, but I never see them. All I see are the airports and the hotels. It’s like I spend my life working through other people’s dream vacations.”

“What would you do if you could do what you wanted?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re at one of these destinations, but no job, no responsibilities. What would you do?”

She had to think about it. It had been so long since she’d traveled someplace for fun. She couldn’t quite remember how it worked. “I think I’d just want to lie by the pool and read. I have these stacks of books I see recommended and—”

“No time to ever read them,” he finished for her.

“Yes! You too?”

Simon sighed and nodded. “I know more about a city’s airport layout than I do about its downtown. I never actually see anything in all these places I visit.”

Cassie slipped off her heels and tucked her feet up underneath her, leaning back in her seat to get comfortable. “So what would
you
do? If you could do anything?”

He thought for a moment, rubbing the knuckle of his left index finger back and forth under his bottom lip. God, he had pretty lips. And no tan line on his ring finger. Not that it meant much. Even single, he could still be a cad. “I’d like to walk out the door without a plan. Explore. See something amazing. Listen to a local band. Find some cheap dive and eat good food and drink all night without talking about work or investments.”

“That sounds fun. Just wandering. No plan at all. I can’t remember the last time I had no plan. College, maybe?”

He refilled their champagne flutes. “Where was that? College?”

The time flew by faster than it had any right to, considering the circumstances. Talking to Simon was so easy. She told him about wanting, more than anything, to see the world when she grew up, and how that had led her to her job. He told her about growing up outside London, and being recruited by his company out of a law firm six years ago. He told her he loved the States but missed his family in England. She told him how much she loved living in New York, even though her brutal travel schedule kept her from fully enjoying everything the city had to offer. Simon commiserated.

“Have you ever done the Philharmonic in the park?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Always wanted to, but no. Add that to my ‘one day’ list.”

“It’s lovely. People bring blankets and lawn chairs and picnics. As you can imagine in a city as food-obsessed as New York, some people can get quite elaborate with the concept of ‘picnic.’”

“That sounds like so much fun. Are you one of those food-obsessed New Yorkers?”

He shrugged. “I suppose so. I love to cook. I insisted on a state-of-the-art kitchen when I bought my apartment. Sub-Zero fridge, Viking range, the best of everything. But I’m never there to use it. Or picnic in the park listening to the symphony.” He smiled at her. “I suppose it’s still on my ‘one day’ list, too. When I get around to cooking something in my fancy kitchen.”

It was far too easy to imagine Simon cooking in that state of the art kitchen he was describing. What did he wear at home? Was he a sweats kind of guy? Doubtful. She suspected that even when dressed down he was somehow sophisticated, and likely just as appealing. She found herself wishing she could watch him cook in his fancy kitchen, and she wanted to go on that picnic in Central Park, listening to the symphony under the stars.

But she needed to stop building this fantasy around the guy immediately. Sure, he was handsome, urbane, and seemingly perfect, which meant he was undoubtedly
not
perfect. He was likely just another commitment-phobic player, conning women with that smooth accent and gorgeous face everywhere he went. He probably got them all dreaming of romantic picnics under the stars and cozy morning-after breakfasts in his lovely kitchen. But there was never a morning after, merely “I have an early morning so you’d better not stay the night” and an “I’ll call you”, and then inevitably the phone call would never come. She’d learned the hard way that when it looked too good to be true, it always was.

Still, they were trapped on this plane. He was perfectly charming and great to talk to. She’d enjoy it while she could and make sure she played it safe. Plus, he was buying the champagne and she wasn’t about to say no to that.

They talked a while longer about all they hadn’t done yet in the city, despite the many years they’d both lived there—the must-see exhibits they’d missed, the hot shows that had come and gone while they were prowling foreign airports, the festivals that every year they swore they’d attend and every year managed to miss. The conversation made her wistful, and she promised herself that she’d spend less time at work this year. Like she promised herself every year.

Simon popped the cork on yet another mini bottle of champagne. The empties were lined up at the front of his tray like soldiers. He leaned across her to refill her glass, his eyes cutting to hers when his face was a few inches away. At this close proximity, she could smell him when she inhaled. Soap and maybe some really expensive kind of hair product. He smelled delicious.

“Where was home before New York?”

“What?” She blinked, having momentarily gotten distracted as she examined all the shades of gold visible in his hair up close.

“Home.” He sat back and she finally exhaled. “You’re not a native New Yorker, I think.”

“Funny, you can always tell, can’t you? But no, I’m not. I’m from a little town just outside Pittsburgh. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“Do you miss it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“Unhappy childhood?”

“Not really,” she said. “Not terribly so, anyway. My mother was a single mom and it wasn’t always easy. But I don’t have some tragic tale to tell.”

“Your father wasn’t around?”

She shook her head as she sipped her champagne. “Left when I was five. The first in a long line of—” When she realized what she was about to say, she stopped short.

“What?” he prompted.

“Nothing. I was about to say something remarkably personal and a little bitter.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his own champagne. “Now I
really
want to know what you were going to say. Out with it, then.”

She bit back her smile. “I was going to say, he was the first in a long line of men I shouldn’t have trusted.”

Simon winced. “That sounds grim.”

“Again, no tales of horror to tell. Just your average dating battle scars.”

Marianne had brought them another tray of fruit at some point and now he held out a strawberry to her. “Here. Have something sweet and tell me all about it.”