"Are you ready Kit? Sam has shown me the flight plan. If we leave now, we can miss the snowstorm and be at the townhouse in time for an early dinner." She was wearing her aviators, holding her hand out to usher me closer.
I looked at her confused as I moved closer, not taking her hand. I didn't want to make it overly obvious that Claire and I were closer than employer and employee. I didn't know Sam and wanted to get my own read of him before I started indulging in any PDA's in front of him. "Yeah, I’m ready." I pointed with two fingers at the massive cargo plane, the rear hatch closing slowly, "You are flying the Lincoln back?"
Claire laughed, nodding, "And the Cadillac. They are my cars, why would I not have them at the home I spend eleven months of the year at?"
I followed behind her as we walked up the stairs and into the cool, elegant interior of the jet. "Isn't that expensive?" I took the first seat that I spotted, a beige leather high back chair with a small white table set in the middle with another set of identical leather high backs on the opposite side. Claire took a seat in the one kitty corner from mine, next to a window.
She was still smiling, fiddling with the seatbelt, "It is, but much cheaper and more efficient than driving the car across the country. Those cars are custom made and take months to complete the production process." She reached over to the small refrigerator behind the table and chairs, handing me a bottle of water.
I held the bottle of water in my hands, the cool condensation around the bottle sent a tiny shiver through my arms. I couldn't resist asking, "How much money do you have, Claire?"
Claire sipped at her water, her brow furrowed in thought. Setting the water down, she spoke, "The Avondale steel empire is worth close to three billion dollars and I am the only child and heir to that fortune. Aside from my inheritance I have other incomes from projects and formulas I created in college. From that I have a steady income of two or three million dollars a year from the patents and royalties."
Claire leaned back in the plush leather chair, "My Senator salary is about $175,000 a year. That salary I take and donate it all back into the communities and charities I think need it the most. Oddly enough my government salary has saved a few non-profit programs the Senate and Congress cut funding to." Claire rolled the bottle cap in her fingers, "Like I said Kit, I am not in this for the money, the power, or the fame. It only affords me free access to certain parts of the government I need to keep an eye on and do some good around the country. Money is unimportant to me, but unfortunately, necessary."
I was silent. The numbers she poured out to me, were numbers I only heard in movies or in the budget crisis news reports. Claire was beyond wealthy and when her project at the Criterion was completed, she would see endless wealth as people threw money at her for the secret to life and immortality.
My silence was unnerving to Claire, she twisted in her seat, "Kit I don't live extravagantly, as you can tell by my boring t-shirts and five year old pair of jeans. I do spend money, yes, but on things that will make things easier and safer for me to move around. Like I told you, I fund all of my own protection. Yes, I could probably buy enough custom Lincolns and Cadillac's to have in Malibu, D.C. and the other random places I have homes, but that is a poor way to manage your money."
I reached over, grabbing her hand that was fidgeting with the plastic bottle cap, "Claire, I don't care about your money. I honestly haven't cashed the first paycheck you gave me and I gave the last two thousand dollars for new clothes to Tito to buy new equipment for the little league team he coaches."
I watched Claire breathe out and ease up on torturing the cap in her hands, "I probably shouldn't have asked about your money, but the last time I drove a car onto a cargo plane, it was for that handsome movie star in all the top action films. He didn't hesitate to tell me how much the flight to ship his Aston Martin from San Francisco to Austria was costing him. He only makes ten million a picture and tried to use every dollar of that to get into my pants." I leaned back into the soft cushion of the chair, letting go of her hand.
Claire looked at me, eyebrows raised in curiosity, "And did it?"
I shook my head, "Money is not important to me." I picked up my water and brought it to my lips, "The way into my pants is a lot more complicated than throwing money around. It takes creativity and romance." I smirked, watching Claire blush slightly.
I turned to the window across from me, taking a sip of water when I heard in a low voice, "I can be creative and romantic." The water slid down my throat the wrong way when I gasped hearing Claire's comment, causing me to choke suddenly and cough up the drops of water that ended up in my windpipe. Looking at Claire with that smirk and innocent look on her face, I began to feel flush and overheated.
I wiped my mouth, trying to regain my cool when the pilot, Sam came back to us. He looked truly the part of a pilot with slicked back salt and pepper hair, perfect tan and white teeth, he sat on the edge of the armrest of the couch across from us. "Ladies, we are two minutes from wheels up. Anything you need before I head up to the cockpit?"
"We are both fine, Sam." Claire was still reveling in her ability to one up me, "How long will the flight take?"
"A handful of hours, five at the most. We have nothing but clear skies and good winds from here to the city." Sam stood up, straightening his tie, "Alright ladies, if we are all set I will get this bird up in the air and this flight on its way." Sam tapped the edge of the white table and walked back to the cockpit.
Claire watched him disappear before settling her eyes back on me, the mischievous smirk was slight, but still there. She went to say something when her phone rang. Swiping the phone screen she answered the phone in cheery French. Speaking quickly to whoever was on the other line and I, once again, was left staring at her in mild awe.
Claire was a Senator, a doctor, a billionaire to be, beautiful, apparently multilingual, beyond a genius, sexy as hell and had the biggest heart I had ever met in anyone. For a second I wanted to ask outright, what the hell did she see in me? I was just a girl from Pittsburgh who almost made it in the major leagues of the Secret Service.
I felt the jet begin to move and looked up at Claire, she was still on the phone, quickly wrapping up her conversation as Sam announced take off. Claire hung up and dropped the phone in the cup holder off to the side. "That was the French Ambassador. He would like to have dinner with me sometime next week and discuss foreign policy." She looked up in my eyes, "He was asking me out on a date."
I felt the jealousy bubble up. "Oh? And did you accept?" I rolled the bottle of water across the small white table top.
Claire smiled, almost giggling, "No. I told him that I was very busy until after the New Year and that I am very much unavailable to date in general." Her blue green eyes held mine in silence for a moment. "That I had my eye on someone else." I felt my throat go dry as sand and I had to look away from her. Claire made me nervous even though we had professed love and intense feelings for one another, we were still something and nothing all at the same time. I didn't want to pursue a conversation of what we were now while flying in the air. I would save it for the capital and when I was settled in the new house. I bit the inside of my mouth, trying to find something to change the topic of conversation to anything else.
"How many languages do you speak? I have experienced Czech, Spanish and French." I let out a small sigh, "Is there anything you can't do Claire Avondale?"
Claire shrugged, "I speak nine languages. Czech, Spanish, French, German, Russian, Mandarin Chinese, Farsi, Swedish, and I recently learned Italian." She spun her chair, throwing her feet up on the other one, "The only thing I can't do is roller skate. My body is uncoordinated with the graceful skills needed to successfully roll on wheels and push the skates. Davidek tried to teach me when we were kids and I would just fall on my bum. I eventually gave up, realizing roller skating was better left to others."
It was my turn to grin, "Roller skating?! The great Senator Avondale can't roller skate!" I clapped my hands in excite
ment, "Well, this is perfect." I pointed at myself with both thumbs, "You are looking at the roller skating champ of 1998 right here. I rocked out the competition that year at the annual Skate World Rock and Roll event." I leaned forward, "I think I am going to have to take on the task of teaching you how to roller skate, Claire."
Claire shook her head feverishly, "No, no, no. I am quite happy in life without it." She held up her hands, waving at me to forget it.
I leaned closer to her, "You will learn and then we will have a skate off. Like the shoot off and the winner gets the same prize." I glared at her jokingly, "Since I can't seem to out shoot you."
She cut me off, "So you are going to out skate me?” Claire squinted at me, the look of determination falling into her blue green eyes as they sparkled, "Fine, challenge accepted." She held out her hand to me and I took it, shaking it once to seal the deal of a skate off.
I tapped my fingers on the edge of the table, "Oh by the way, when are you going to collect your prize from the shooting range? I don't have any dresses to wear for the next month. I can cook, sort of." I raised my eyebrows at her.
Claire's smile faded to the genuine one that made my heart melt every time I saw it, "I will. Don't worry. I have something in mind." She unbuckled her seat belt and stood up, "I am going to make a sandwich in the back, would you like one?"
Looking in her eyes made me wonder exactly what it was she had in mind. The way she looked at me made me feel all sorts of amazing things, I sucked in a breath, my resolve to take it slow and not resist the physical attraction I had for this woman was faltering every minute she was bolder with me. I had to break my Claire induced trance and force myself to say yes to a handmade sandwich.
Watching Claire walk to the back of the jet, I thought again, how the hell did I get so lucky?
"Kit, I told you to bring a winter coat." I glanced over at Kit shivering in her sweatshirt and the two extra liners from my winter coat and one Sam gave her as we landed. "It's twenty five degrees here, not the warm seventy five you are used to."
I heard her teeth chatter in response as I punched in the access code to the townhouse. I pushed the door open and helped Kit inside. Closing the heavy wood and glass door behind us, I waited for the magnetic locks to click before I moved to help Kit off with her layers.
Shivering as she pulled her arms out, "I know what Washington winters are like. Brutal and icy." She rubbed her hands together, "That's why I left the first chance I could for the west coast." Kit looked around the foyer we stood in. "Wow, this is impressive."
The townhouse was in the trendy part of the district, my particular townhouse was built at the turn of the twentieth century, modernized, but maintained the original bones of the house. It was large at four levels with three bedrooms, four baths, a secured basement like I had in the Malibu home and an expansive library and kitchen. The decor was warmer than the stark minimalism I chose for the Malibu home. Deep earth tones and cream colored highlights made the house warm and cozy. I wanted it like that since it was my full time home, the feel of the house kept my mind active and focused, whereas Malibu let me clear my mind out and have nothing other than the ocean to think about.
I hung up Kit's coats, "Rebecca has set everything up. Your bags and car will be here within the hour and parked into the garage off to the side of the basement level." I held out my hand, "Would you like the full grand tour?"
Kit grinned and took my hand, I knew she was being careful with how much we touched in public, reading everyone around us to determine if they were trusted employees or not. I didn't want to clue her in on who was who, I wanted her to stay alert and vigilant of who was around us at any given time. Sam made the comment when I went to thank him and say goodbye, "That girl should play poker, she reads faces and tells better than anyone I have ever met."
I squeezed Kit's hand, enjoying the way it fit in mine and the way it still made me feel completely safe. It was invigorating to let my guard down with the redhead, dusting off my flirting skills on the plane and relishing the effect it had on the woman. I loved making Kit blush and stammer and I intended to do it as much as possible.
As I walked Kit down the long foyer with deep tan colored walls, I was beginning to feel a stronger physical attraction to her. Wanting to touch her, hold her hand and kiss her whenever I could. I knew she wanted to take it slow and I didn't want to rush her into anything, especially since she just shed the deep layers of thick skin she hid under for years. I didn't want to take advantage of her obvious vulnerability. I also wanted to go slow and not jump into bed and explore every inch of the woman, but I knew my strength in not wanting that would not last long and I would cave in.
"This is the kitchen, it's a full chef's kitchen and fully stocked. I have it restocked every two weeks by a private delivery service I use. I will show you the order program to get what you want or need." I walked us through the large granite and steel laden room to the library.
I stopped in the doorway of the library, standing on the antique rug that laid from wall to wall. Smiling at the floor to ceiling bookshelves that covered every wall, holding the books I crammed on every inch of shelving I could. "My favorite room of the house. My library." I sighed, "Any book you could want is here, from medical texts to law books, photography books and,." I pointed at the far bookshelf under the large window, “some of the best fiction I have ever read." I turned to look at Kit, "As with the kitchen, anything you would like is here or can be here."
Kit grinned, leaning into me and wrapping her other hand around my arm, "I think I will be fine with what's here."
I looked over Kit, her face relaxed and happy, only small traces of being tired lingered around her eyes. This Kit was something new for me, lighter and open to let me in deeper. "Let's head upstairs and I will show you the bedrooms."
I let her hand go as I walked to the large wooden staircase that led up to the other levels of the house. I took Kit to the third floor, opening a large ornate wooden door. "This is your room, Kit." I stepped inside to let Kit look at her new accommodations, "It's a bit bigger than the spare in Malibu." I pointed at the large bed with a headboard carved with ornate flowers and thorns, "Same size bed, the closet has extra blankets and sheets on the top shelf if you need them."
I waved a hand towards the other side of the room where a dresser sat underneath a TV on the wall, "Dresser and television." I walked over to the side of the bed, "You have a private bathroom with a full tub and shower." Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pressed a small button on the bedside table, a small drawer to opening up from underneath the false bottom of the wooden table. I pressed one more of the small black buttons lined across the length of the drawer and looked up as the armoire on the far wall swung out of the way to reveal a grey room with harsh fluorescent lighting. "This is the panic room." I stood up, motioning for Kit to follow.
Inside the room were racks holding body armor with empty spots where handguns and other weapons could be placed. "I had this installed after my attack in Malibu." I flicked a switch, lighting up rows of monitors set inlaid along the wall. "The house has cameras everywhere on the outside with a handful on the inside at entry points." I looked over at Kit, her jaw clenched as the reality behind the purpose of this room and why I had it came back. "In the back of the room is a small staircase, large enough for one person to squeeze through. It will take you down to the secured basement and then out to the garage. That's how I have it set up for a quick escape if the time should come." I flicked the monitors off, "The rest of the room is self-explanatory. It has its own venting system, HVAC system, and it is on separate internet and telephone connection that Ivan set up to be remote, meaning it cannot be tampered with." I turned to face Kit, my hands settling on her upper arms, "Are you okay?" I didn't like the slight turn in her demeanor as I showed her around the panic room.
Kit nodded, "Yeah, I just...I think I forgot for a moment... about certain things."
I ran my hand down, finding hers again to lead her o
ut of the room. I hit the button on the bedside table, closing up the panic room, moving its existence to fade back into the façade of a fully functioning armoire.
"Is this Rebecca's old room?" Kit's voice was soft, making me halt my steps in the middle of the room. I turned to her, still holding onto her hand.
When I saw the awkwardness in her eyes, I stepped closer to Kit, "No, it's not. When I moved into this townhouse we were in a relationship. After things ended, she moved down to the room next to the basement office." I squeezed Kit's hand, "This room has been empty for years." I searched her eyes, "Kit, you are not a replacement for her." I pulled her hand up, setting it against my chest over the pounding heart inside, "This should tell you that. Every time you doubt or wonder about what I feel for you." I pressed her hand down so she could feel what my heart did whenever she was near, "Know that my heart has never done this or beat like this for anyone. Anyone until I met you." I leaned closer, kissing the corner of her mouth, "I love you, Kit, only you." I whispered the words against her cheek, under her ear.
I heard Kit sigh, her arm sliding across my waist and pulling me against her and sliding her hand free from my chest so she could fully embrace me. "I love you." Kit whispered the three small words slowly before she nuzzled into my shoulder holding me tightly. This was new for her just as it was for me.
We held each other for a moment until she leaned back, smiling as she ran fingers through my hair, "Where is your bedroom?"
I chuckled nervously, making Kit semi back track, "Oh no, no! I don't mean it that way. I meant it, um, in case I have to get to you or if my room gets too cold at night." She bit her bottom lip, blushing at the mild Freudian slip.
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