Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
He let go of the handle on one of my suitcases and pulled at his collar, as if it had suddenly become too tight. “Yes, of course,” he replied, as if I hadn’t already asked this several times and been ignored.
Who had been on that phone call? He’d changed abruptly after hanging up. His boss maybe? But who would that even be, and how would they have known he wasn’t being very helpful and was rather rude?
“It seems your original flight was changed to a private jet,” he replied, as if that answered my questions.
Although he had used the word jet and although I wasn’t well informed on aircraft, I had researched the differences between a plane and a jet for a book once. I felt somewhat relieved to hear him call it a jet. That meant it wasn’t a tiny twin-prop plane. Which had been my fear at first. I’d flown on one of those from Miami to Key West three years ago with Arden, and I swore I’d never get on another one. The turbulence was horrible, and I’d been in tears by the time we landed.
“But how was it changed? Who changed it?” I asked, not sure if he even had that kind of information.
He shrugged and shook his head, looking apologetic. “I was not given the details, Ms. Raines. I am only told who to go meet to escort to the VIP area for check-in. I’m sorry.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, I nodded. “Okay. I guess I will hope for the best.”
The tiniest smirk touched his lips, and he quickly changed it to a pleasant smile. “You will be pleased,” he replied before reaching down to take the handle of my suitcase again. “I will walk slower,” he assured me before turning to continue in the direction we’d been headed.
But I caught it again. His tiny little glimpse of the area around us, as if he was looking for someone and didn’t want to be caught doing it. How odd …
Sinking down onto the butter-colored leather seat, I stared around me in awe. What the actual hell? This was … this was a luxury jet. And I was in it alone—well, there were no other passengers at least.
A flight attendant brought me two bottles of red wine. One was a merlot, and the other was … the other was cabernet. Anakota cabernet, to be exact. My favorite. I stared at it, speechless, for several moments while she stood there, waiting. My voice cracked when I asked for the cabernet.
She had also left me with a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. She had informed me the chocolate was gluten-free, although I hadn’t asked. How had she known about my gluten allergy?
I glanced down at my phone to see if Lynette had called me back to tell me what the hell was going on. Nothing from her. I wasn’t complaining about this change, but if the publisher was going to start flying authors around like this, they’d be bankrupt in a month.
I took a sip of wine and sighed as I relaxed. Or tried to. There would be an explanation for all this. I needed to enjoy it and stop trying to figure it out. I’d had a bad week, and this was a nice little escape from my reality at the moment.
Except that I wanted to text Ransom and tell him about it. Ask him if this was how he flew. Take pictures and show him how incredible it was. But I wouldn’t do that. He was ignoring me or making sure I understood that it had just been sex and now he was done. That stung. No, it hurt like a bitch.
I was tough. I’d survive this.
My gaze dropped to my phone, and I stared at it while I sipped the wine. If he did get around to texting me back, would I be able to act like it was no big deal? Or was this going to destroy what we’d built over the years? The heaviness that hadn’t left but had been shoved aside as I dealt with my unexpected change in travel returned full force.
How would I survive this if it was done? All those years of a friendship I had relied on, looked forward to, just over. Finished.
Losing Ransom completely took me to a dark place that perhaps I wasn’t strong enough to survive.
Eight
Ransom
Stalking down the concrete stairs into the underground, where we handled things that were unsavory, I glared at the back of Bane’s head. I hated the fucking sight of him. Granted, it might not be his fault he was making my life hell, but I needed to get my fury out somewhere. So, he was getting the brunt of it.
I heard a man’s pained wail from one of the back caves.
“I thought we were just scaring him into silence,” I said. Although the idea of torturing the bastard made my hands itch to release some brutality.