by Paige Rion
Rachel pulled away. “Again, you know the answer to both those questions. No and no.” She laughed as Andi crossed her arms.
“Before you give me that look,” Rachel said, “I want you to know something. I know how important this is to you. I know because growing up, you used to force me to listen to all those awful short stories you used to write.” She screwed up her face. “They were truly terrible.”
Andi jabbed her lightly in the arm, laughing.
“But you’re amazing now.” Rachel smiled. “The best. Knock ‘em dead in New York. Get your contract or whatever it is you’re after. I want that for you.”
“Thanks—”
“My family’s in trouble,” Rachel blurted.
She had almost forgotten. Andi swallowed, thinking of the conversation she’d overheard at the library. Her own problems had trumped everything, pushing anything not directly related to herself, to the back of her mind.
“What kind of trouble?” Andi asked, although she was pretty sure she knew.
Rachel stared down at her hands, picking at her nails. “My mom, she’s done some things that have gotten us into financial trouble. We had to let Marietta go,” she said, referring to their beloved housekeeper. “We’re auctioning off a lot of our stuff. The house is probably going to go next.”
Andi struggled to think of something to say. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What’s worse is that when everything gets out, my father will probably lose re-election in the fall.” Rachel stared off into the distance. “I didn’t go to college like you. I’ve never even had a job, Andi. I’ve lived a privileged life, and I know that. It makes this harder. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had a plan.”
Andi leaned in and put her hand on Rachel’s arm. “What can I do for you?”
“Get that agent and then get a contract. Figure out what you feel for Ford.” Rachel backed away without meeting Andi’s eyes. “Because after that, if you’re done with Ford, your job, him, they’re both fair game, and I’ll find a way to get them. Then we all win.” Turning, she got in her car.
“Wait a minute.” Andi went after her, but Rachel ignored her, slamming her door shut and pulling away before she could stop her.
Andi watched the car go, letting her mind drift over the events of the past month. And as the pieces came together, everything suddenly made sense. If the Beaumont estate was sold, Rachel would be left with nothing. No home, no golden lifestyle to which she was accustomed. Her father would likely lose re-election, and since Rachel relied on her parents for everything, where would that put her?
She understood now, more than ever, Rachel’s determination at winning Ford, or at the very least, her job. It was about survival, self-preservation. For that, Andi couldn’t completely blame her, and she had no doubt that Rachel would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.
But what bothered her more? The threat of Rachel taking her job? Or the thought of her with Ford?
Rachel’s voice echoed in her head as she watched her car disappear down the road. Figure out what you feel for Ford.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The plane hovered over the runway before its nose angled into the sky and it soared, inclining into the clouds. Andi pressed her back into the seat, eyes closed, lips moving rapidly as she prayed for the plane not to fall and plummet them to their inevitable deaths. Moments later, the plane stopped its incline and straightened, allowing her equilibrium to balance. She opened her eyes, one at a time, squinting, as if the pilot was playing a sort of trick on them and the plane was not, in fact, okay.
Ford chuckled next to her, so she turned to him, scowling, which only made him laugh harder. He sat with his legs crossed at his ankles, a magazine on his lap. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a black polo shirt that accentuated the gold flecks in his eyes.
A blond stewardess dressed in a black skirt, matching blazer and bow tie appeared in front of them before Andi could tell him what she thought about his laughter. “Can I get either of you something to drink?” she asked.
Obviously, she thought they were a couple. “I’ll have a rum and Coke,” Andi answered.
“And for you, sir?” the flight attendant purred. Her heavily lipsticked mouth turned up into a smile as she eyed Ford.
Ford, either oblivious or uninterested, barely glanced her way. “I’ll have the same.”
The attendant poured their drinks, and, after a final attempt at getting Ford to show interest, her expression went from demure to disappointed. She left for the row behind them, and when Ford glanced over at Andi, she raised a brow.
“What?” he asked, smiling.
So he had noticed. Andi rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink, but something about the flight attendant seemed familiar. It picked at her until it clicked. She looked like Rachel.
But she didn’t want to think of her now. She didn’t want to think about what Rachel would do if her family lost everything. Or about Rachel winning Ford’s affections, or her job. She didn’t want to think about how, if anyone needed the position with Ford the most, maybe it was Carma. Nor did she want to think about Peter, where he was and why he hadn’t called. She didn’t want to think about any of it. Not right now. Especially while strapped into this floating deathtrap in the sky, with Ford sitting right next to her, an irritating smirk plastered across his face.
She slid the small table attached to the arm of her seat into position and set her drink down. Rolling her head and shoulders, she willed her muscles to relax. This flying thing isn’t too bad, she thought. In fact, getting away from Callaway Cove felt good.
She took another sip of her drink and smiled for no reason other than she was excited about what lay ahead the next couple days.
Ford cleared his throat. “Deep in thought?” he asked her.
“Nope. Just trying to relax.”
“Hmm. How’s that working out for you?”
She glanced over at him and smirked. “Well, thanks to you and your insistence on first class, meaning I can consume all the alcoholic beverages I want to in an hour and forty-five minutes, I think it’ll work out fine.”
“Uh-huh. Not a flier, I take it?”
“Um, no. I’m from a small town, and the family business is open six days a week. We run the place, so we never vacationed much, and my mother and father wouldn’t prefer it any other way.” She shrugged. “I’ve had limited opportunity to fly.”
Ford stirred his drink. “So how many times have you flown?”
“Hmmm…” Andi pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling as if she needed time to consider the question. “Once.”
Ford’s eyes widened. A hint of a smile played on his lips. “Wait, this is your first time flying?”
“Yep.” Andi smacked her lips and took a gulp of her drink, feeling slightly nervous about Ford having this knowledge.
“So I guess that explains the outfit.”
Andi glanced down at her clothes. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Well, unless you’re going to a meeting or somewhere important, most people fly comfortably, not in formal attire unless they are going to or coming from work.”
“Well, I figured if I was going to perish in a plane crash, I may as well do it dressed nicely.” She scanned the plane, discreetly studying the other passengers’ outfits. She spotted a man and woman in business attire, both of whom had their heads stuck in front of their laptops. Everyone else wore jeans and a t-shirt or another equally casual version of the ensemble. Dammit, he was right.
“Did you wear your best underwear, too?”
Andi narrowed her eyes at him, trying to look irritated, but her blush betrayed her. The thought of Ford thinking about her underwear at all was enough to heat her face like a furnace.
Ford chuckled. “You do realize your body would either be burnt to smithereens or strewn into a million tiny pieces for some poor firefighter or other worker to put in a bag, right? They would have no idea you even had clothes on, let alone what kin
d.”
Andi’s eyes widened. Something bubbled in her chest and her breath came in short gasps. Closing her eyes, she pushed the gory image from her head. “I do now. Thank you for that, truly.”
Ford roared with laughter as she downed her drink and signaled the flight attendant for another. Ford peered over at her, grinning the entire time the blond fixed her rum and Coke. By the time she handed her the drink, Andi wanted to smack him. And by the time their plane landed, and Andi had escaped sheer death by fractions, she was ready for bed.
She and Ford parted ways at the elevator and headed to their respective rooms, Ford to his suite on the sixth floor and Andi to her standard room on the second. Despite his requests to let him pay for her room, she refused. The cost of even a standard room at the Four Seasons, plus the money she would need for meals while she was there, would put a huge dent in her bank account, but there was no way she would let him foot the bill. That would just be … weird. She also knew darn well he would put her up in a ridiculously overpriced suite like his own.
The moment she opened the door to her room, she threw her bag on the floor and fell onto her bed. She lay there a moment before she finally managed to coax herself up into the bathroom.
What she really needed was a long, hot shower. Then she would curl up in her PJs, order room service, no matter the cost, and watch one of those cheesy Lifetime movies while she fell asleep. And in the morning, when she met Ford for breakfast, she’d be refreshed and ready for her big day.
She hopped in the shower, letting the steaming water massage the sore muscles in her neck and back. When her cell phone rang, she ignored it, but at the caller’s persistence, she poked her head out of the shower curtain and strained to see the screen from where it lay on the sink.
It was a number she didn’t recognize, so she jumped out of the shower, quickly wrapped a towel around herself and snatched the phone off the counter. She answered it, breathless, and a recording came on the line, saying, “You have a call from Carma at Covington County Corrections. Please hold to accept this call.”
Frowning, she pulled the phone away from her face, glancing at the screen as if the call were a figment of her imagination, but Carma’s voice soon came on the line, grounding her to reality. “Andi, I’m sorry to call you like this, but I need your help. I knew you were the only one who’d understand, since you … well, you know…”
Andi shivered and tightened her towel around herself. Goosebumps covered her arms and her hair dripped onto the floor. Even as Carma’s voice resonated through the line, she thought there was some mistake.
“What’s going on? Whatever you need, I’m here,” she said.
“I need you to bail me out. Please. I spent the night in here last night, and I can’t do it again. Can you come get me?”
Shit. Except that. “You’re in jail?” It was a stupid question, but she needed a moment to think and her mind was having trouble catching up. How was she going to bail Carma out while she was in New York? Her thoughts jumbled together making it impossible to speak.
“Yeah. I got caught taking money from the till at Peach’s,” she said. “I did it the other night without getting caught, and thought if I did it again, I’d get enough cash to skip town. But they must’ve been watching and I got caught.”
“Oh, Carma. I don’t know…” Andi squeezed her eyes shut. Why did this have to happen now? “I’m in New York. I don’t know…” She trailed off again. Guilt ripped a hole in her chest. She had to fix this for Carma. She had been so preoccupied with her own problems over the past two weeks and getting her manuscript ready. “How much is bail?”
“Three thousand.”
Double shit. Andi fisted a hand in her wet hair. “Okay, I’ll figure something out. Just hang tight.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing. And Carma, next time, wait to get arrested until I’m in town.”
Carma laughed before the line went dead and Andi set her phone down. How the hell was she going to come up with three thousand dollars? Just a month ago, she was a college student, and college students were notoriously broke. She was no exception. What little she managed to save working for Ford, she had set aside for her hotel stay on this trip, with little to spare. But there had to be something she could do. She couldn’t ask her parents, and Rachel’s situation meant she definitely couldn’t help…
She plunked herself down on the toilet seat and bit her nail. There had to be a way. Carma trusted her and was counting on her. Andi already felt as if she’d let her down, and she couldn’t do that again.
She lifted her knees up to her chest and pressed her head against them. As her mind churned, a knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. She groaned and put her legs down. Who the hell was that?
She stood and made her way to the door, allowing her frustration with the problem at hand to fuel her anger at the unwelcome guest. She ripped open the door to her room, her mouth open, ready to yell at the employee to get lost, but when she saw Ford standing in front of her, his tousled, sandy hair damp from his own shower, looking as handsome as ever, her words stuck in her throat.
She snapped her mouth shut, and remembering she wore nothing but a towel, glanced down at herself. Her face flamed as she stepped away from the door. “Er, I thought…” She hooked a thumb back toward her room and took a step back.
“No complaints here,” Ford murmured. He reached up and loosened his collar, letting his tie hang just below where it should. “I thought I’d see if you wanted to go to dinner.”
Andi started to shake her head and tell him she couldn’t, that she had to figure out a solution to her friend’s problems, when it hit her. Her best chance of coming up with the means to bail Carma out was standing right in front of her. She bit her lip and said, “Um, can you come in a second?”
Ford cocked his head and grinned at her. “That’s the best proposition I’ve had in weeks.”
“Shut up.” Andi couldn’t help herself. She laughed, then turned for her suitcase. “Just let me change,” she said, pulling out a pair of jeans and t-shirt. She went into the bathroom and threw them on. When she came out a couple minutes later, Ford was lounging on her bed, the remote in his hand pointed at the TV. “Please, do make yourself comfortable.”
Ford chuckled and sat up, patting the spot on the bed next to him. Rolling her eyes, she sat on the edge, a safe distance away.
He glanced around the room, then back to her. “You know, had you let me book you a suite, then there would’ve been more seating than just the bed.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to pay my own way, which makes what I’m about to ask you both incredibly embarrassing and uncomfortable.”
Ford frowned and leaned forward. “What is it? You know you don’t need to be embarrassed to ask me anything.”
Andi took a deep breath, then launched into her speech. “Carma’s in trouble. To make a long story short, I dropped the ball. I didn’t help her like I should have, but I need to help her now. I’m the only one she trusts and the only one she’s confided in.”
“Okay … So is this about me finding her a job, then?” Ford said.
“No. Carma got arrested and she needs to be bailed out. She has no one to help her but me,” Andi blurted. “She can’t go to her mom or stepfather. But the problem is that I spent all my money on this ridiculously overpriced hotel room for the next few nights. So…” Andi trailed off, wondering how she could ask what she wanted.
“You want the money. Sure. It’s no problem, but the only thing is that Trisha doesn’t have access to my accounts.” He rubbed his chin, his eyes far away as he spoke. “I might be able to see what the bank would be willing to do, though. They could probably wire—”
“No. Ford, I’m not asking for your money or a loan to bail out my friend. I would never do that.”
Ford scratched his head, his brow wrinkling. “Then if it’s not money, what is it you’re asking for?”
Andi exhaled. Now or never. “I know the
hotel has a twenty-four hour cancellation policy, but I was hoping if you and I, particularly you, spoke with them, they might bend the rules and refund my money. I’d get all my stuff out of here and stay somewhere else.”
Ford ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “Okay. I’m sure we could get them to do that, especially if I offered a sizeable tip for the inconvenience, but where would you go? You can hardly sleep on the street.”
Andi swallowed. “Well … I … er, I thought … what if I slept on the couch in your suite?”
Ford’s eyes widened. Before he could respond, she blurted out the rest before she lost the courage. “Surely the bedroom is separate from the living room. I can sleep on the couch. You’ll never know the difference. I’ll be quiet and go to bed early each night. You can still do whatever you want, and I’ll stay out of your way.” She placed a hand over her eyes, wishing she could disappear. “God, this is so embarrassing, but this way you’re not paying for Carma. I don’t even need to shower. I can literally just sleep there.” She scrunched her face. “Although that might be kind of gross. But—”
He put a hand up. “Andi, it would be fine. And you’re not sleeping on the couch, either.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t sleep with you in your bed.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t mean that, either, but I’m sure the hotel can accommodate you with a sleeper sofa or roll out bed of some sort.”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Idiot!
“And I think the shower can accommodate both of us.”
Andi blushed.
“Separately,” Ford added.
Andi cleared her throat. “Oh. Yeah.” What is wrong with you?
Ford held up a finger. “Just one question. If you’re here, how are you going to bail her out?”
Andi twined her fingers in her lap. “Well, I had another idea. And I would need your help for that, too.”
When he said nothing, just stared at her, waiting, she continued. “I want to involve my parents as little as possible, but I can have them get my checkbook out of my room. If you could have Ms. Perry stop by, pick it up, take it over to the jail and post the bail, that would be fantastic.” She flashed him a sheepish smile, which made him laugh.