No, the only way that would happen was if he one day managed to create his own charter company. He'd always loved the idea, but he also knew he had many years of hard work ahead of him before his dream would ever be possible.
What was Tali's dream? Did she have one? Maybe her dream was simply to go on shopping sprees at all the finest designers in all the most famous cities.
He glanced at Tali, expecting she would be taking in the sights of the river and city as he was, but that's not what he found. Instead of paying any attention to the beautiful architecture and scenery, she was watching an artist as he stroked paint across a canvas.
"Why don't you paint, too?" he asked, referring to the painter she was so obviously interested in.
Tali didn't respond. She simply tilted her head and nibbled on her bottom lip. She appeared to be concentrating so deeply she didn't hear him speak. That, or she was ignoring him.
"Earth to Tali." He nudged her arm with his. "Hey, you okay?"
Tali blinked rapidly before turning her eyes on him. "What was that?"
"I tried to talk to you and it was as if you didn't even hear a single word I said."
"Sorry. I guess I got lost in thought watching the artist paint. His brush strokes are amazing. His work should be hanging in a gallery somewhere if it isn't already."
Gavin smiled. Seeing Tali passionate about something made him relaxed and at peace. When she talked about painting, or any art in general, it was as if something inside of her started to glow, radiating out of her through every pore.
"What was it you were trying to talk to me about?" She looked away from the painter and started walking along the pathway again, kicking at loose stones with the tip of her shoes.
"I was curious about why you're not working on any art while you're here. Or maybe why you're not painting as a full-time thing. You seem to love creating art. Seems like everywhere we go, you find something to look at like it's a masterpiece."
"I just like pretty things." She shoved her hands into her coat pockets. "I love painting, but it's a hobby for once in a while when I have free time, which sadly isn't as often as you might think."
"Why not? You had free time enough to drop everything once you got dumped and run off to Paris. How do you not have time to do a little painting?"
"Gee, thanks for that. You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"
"Listen, I didn't mean to be a jerk. I'm just trying to understand. If you love art so much and being creative and seeing the beauty in everything is such a big part of your life, and you're rich, why aren't you doing what you love all the time? I don't understand."
"Just because I'm rich doesn't mean I don't have responsibilities you know. In fact, I think a lot of the time rich people have even more responsibility dumped on them than the average person."
Gavin laughed. He couldn't help it. She was completely ridiculous. There was no way someone as rich as Tali, who had as much time and money at their disposal as they could possibly want, could ever be as stuck down with responsibility as the average person was. She was flat out delusional.
He shook his head. "No way. Nope. You will never convince me that's true."
"That what's true? That I have responsibilities? Does the thought blow your mind so much when you realize maybe I could be like you in some way?"
"No. I know you're a lot like me. Our fiery personalities constantly clashing is simply one example. I can't see why you aren't doing what you love to do when you have the resources to do whatever you want to do whenever you want to do it."
Tali sighed. "Because I don't have that. Believe it or not, I don't get to do whatever I want, whenever I want. There are things expected of me because of who I am. And those are things I can't ignore, no matter how much I might want to."
"Like what? I'm trying really hard to understand, but I don't get it. You have so much more freedom than everyone else from the everyday bullshit of life."
Tali stopped walking and stood with her hands folded across her chest. "Freedom, huh? Freedom like being forced to take four years of business school I had no desire to take in the first place. Like having to maintain a 3.8 GPA so as not to disgrace the family. Or, how about the fact I'm now being 'groomed' to run the family business one day even though I feel like pulling out my eyelashes one at a time every single day I'm forced to go in to the office."
"What is your family's business involved with exactly?"
"Global marketing and logistics for exporting and importing sustainable products."
"Wow. That's a mouthful. Is the work interesting?"
"Not really. It's important work, but I can't seem to get excited about doing everything the job entails. I sit in meetings discussing things. A lot."
Gavin swallowed. Well, that didn't sound as luxurious of a lifestyle as he'd imagined her having. Maybe her life wasn't all fun and games and shopping trips. But couldn't she still make her own decisions about things?
"Okay, so it's not all shopping and fancy dinners, but don't you still get to have a mind of your own? Don't you still get any say in your life and how you spend your time?"
"Sure, I can say whatever I want. And maybe if I had some siblings, I'd be able to do whatever I want too. But I'm the only Radcliff child in line to take over when my father is ready to retire. There's no way he'd ever sell the business and he would never leave the company to someone who wasn't his own flesh and blood."
There had to be a way for Tali to do what she loved and what she was obligated to do, too. Couldn't there be a balance?
"Can't you work at the business part time and do your art the rest of the time?"
"You don't understand, Gavin. Let it go."
"No. You need to stand up for yourself and do what makes you happy instead of what everyone else wants you to do. You have no reason not to. Tell your family the truth about how you feel and I'm sure they'll understand."
"No, they won't. I don't have one of those television show families where everyone understands and everything is perfectly peachy in thirty minutes. Back off about it already."
Gavin thought back to all the shopping they'd done the day before and suddenly Tali's love for fashion made perfect sense. She hadn't been looking at those clothes as an impulse buy, she looked at them with respect for the artist who had created them. Art was her dream, her passion—she had to do it.
He couldn't even imagine what his life would be like if he wasn't allowed to do the thing he was most passionate about—flying. If he were forced to sit in stuffy meetings all day, it would be utter torture. Is that how Tali felt every day?
Rubbing his hands up and down Tali's arms, he tried to comfort her, tried to make her understand he had her best interests in mind. "Just do what you love and everything else will fall into place once you're actually happy."
"Who said I'm not happy?" She challenged, getting right in his face. So close to him that if he really wanted, he could kiss her without much effort. She was pretty hot when she was all hot-tempered.
"You did." He laughed. He couldn't help it. Damn she was strong-willed. She didn't make anything easy, ever.
"I did not. I said I have obligations. I guess a free spirit like you doesn't know what it means to have obligations to anyone other than yourself. And don't you dare laugh at me. My life, my problems, are not a joke."
"I never said they were. But it's about time you stopped acting like some poor tortured soul and realize you are in a position to take your own life in your hands. You whine, but you really have no reason to."
"You need to stop making assumptions about things you know nothing about." She shook her head and Gavin could see tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking last night. I really must have had too much wine with that peasant dinner you forced me to eat. I can't believe I would let myself be with someone who is so clueless about what life is really like."
"Don't blame last night on the alcohol. And don't you dare imply I took advantage of you. You loved what we di
d last night. Seems like you have trouble admitting how you really feel about everything. Maybe you should stop pretending for a change and be who you really are for once—stop hiding and blaming everyone else for your place in life and maybe you'd finally let yourself be happy."
Tali wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. Damn. His chest constricted at the sight of the lonely tear and the knowledge he was the reason it was there. Why did he always say things to make her cry?
"I'm sorry," he started, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I shouldn't have said that."
Tali stiffened in his arms. "Get your hands off of me."
He peered down at her, not loosening his grip. "Tali, really—I'm sorry. That was uncalled for and I didn't mean to make you cry again."
Tali's hand ran up against his chest and pushed hard against him. "I said let go of me." She spoke through a clenched jaw and he could tell she fought to remain in control of her emotions. Reluctantly, he let her go.
"Tali, I—" Gavin stopped mid-sentence as the sting of her hand slapping his face surprised him. His cheek tingled as he stood there staring at her, unblinking.
Did she really just hit me?
"You hit me." He rubbed his newly tender skin. She hit me.
"You, Gavin Taylor, are the biggest asshole I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. You do not and will not ever understand me or the life I'm forced to live. Being with you was a mistake, but not because of the alcohol—because you're an ass and I can do a hell of a lot better than you. So why don't you go find that airline whore who obviously wanted to be in your company and go insult her for a while—because I'm done with you."
Ouch.
"Tali, wait," he called after her as she stormed down the path. He jogged up behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"Get your hand off of me before I break your fingers." She glared at him from over her shoulder and he instantly dropped his hand to his side.
"All of a sudden I'm not good enough for you anymore, huh? Not now that I'm saying something you don't want to hear. Well fine then. Run off and find someone new who will listen and nod at whatever Princess Tali has to say. Good luck. That tactic really seems to be working out great for you so far."
"Fuck you, Gavin." Tali took off across the grass, ignoring the pathway all together and made a beeline for the street. She flagged down a taxi and hopped inside before he could even mutter a reply.
"Well, damn. I didn't see that coming."
As he watched her taxi pull away from the curb, he sank to the ground and put his head in his hands. What the hell just happened?
Chapter Eight
Tali swiped at the tears on her cheeks with a balled up tissue. She took a few deep steadying breaths and rested her head on the back of the torn leather seat, closing her eyes. What happened back there?
She liked Gavin. A lot. More than she cared to admit to him or even herself for that matter. But why did he have to be such an asshole all the time? Why couldn't he take her word for how her life was and leave it at that? Why the hell did he have to challenge every single thing she said?
God, he was so incredibly frustrating. She wanted to punch him. Instead she'd slapped him. Not smart. Not fair either. But totally justified in that one moment. And satisfying. Oh God, so satisfying.
The expression of shock mixed with a little bit of amusement on his face as the red mark appeared on his cheek from her slapping him was something she wasn't going to forget anytime soon. Nope. That was going into the vault for safekeeping just in case she ever wanted to relive it again.
Tali handed the driver a few bills as he pulled to a stop at the curb. She climbed out of the taxi, thankful she didn't have a ton of shopping bags to lug with her this time. Today she wasn't in the mood for shopping. No, today she wanted to sit and think for a bit. She pulled open the large, heavy door and stepped inside an exquisitely decorated lobby.
Tapestries hung over top of rich amber-colored walls. Oil paintings sat on easels along the edges of the room, giving it the feel of a gallery instead of a restaurant. The whole room smelled slightly of something similar to honey. Tali instantly felt at home.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Tali. Comment ça va?" The maitre d' sauntered over to her, giving her a quick kiss on each cheek.
"I am well. How are you, Henri?" Her chest swelled a little as if she spoke to an old friend.
"I am very good. You are looking a little tired, non? You have been missing your favorite food, oui?"
"Bien sûr. I haven't been able to stop thinking about the amazing food here since I arrived. Do you have a spot out on the terrace for me today, Henri?"
He smiled sweetly at her. She knew he would do whatever needed to get her the table she desired. And he knew exactly which table she wanted without her having to tell him. Having people remember her likes and dislikes was definitely one of the perks of being a Radcliff. Doors magically opened for Tali. Well, not all doors. Some were still firmly closed—like the door that would allow her to walk away from being forced to take over the helm of the family business. That door had no key to unlock it.
Henri led her out to the terrace to the small corner table she loved so much. Her favorite spot on the terrace had not only an outstanding view of the city, but the table was also slightly removed from the others. She always felt like she was a little bit alone when she sat there, no matter how crowded the restaurant got. Right now, that was exactly what she needed—some time alone with her thoughts.
Tali ordered coq au vin, her favorite meal, and relaxed back into the cushy chair. These chairs were much more luxurious than a person would expect to see on an outdoor terrace, but Tali appreciated the comfort they provided. She imagined they must bring them in each night to prevent them from getting ruined by the weather. Good thing they did. These chairs were far too nice to let something like the elements touch them.
She took a small leather-bound case from her handbag, opening it in her lap. She always carried the sketchbook with her since she never knew when she'd be able to sneak in a few minutes to draw. As she flipped the pages, she remembered where she'd been when each drawing had been created. Some of the sketches she'd done while waiting for her father to start a meeting. Those ones were usually small and always incomplete. Then there were other drawings that were full page, detailed pieces of art. She knew she should probably take them out of the sketchbook and put them somewhere safer where there wasn't a chance for them to get wrecked, but there was something comforting about having them near her. And even when she didn't have time to draw something new, she still enjoyed looking over her previous work.
She stopped flipping as she came to a page she'd done the other day on her flight to Paris—a picture of a man down on one knee holding her hand and gazing at her with more love in his eyes than she'd ever seen in real life. The day she'd drawn this was the day she'd found out Roger was getting married and her own hope for the future had been crushed. She dreamed of getting married to a wonderful man one day, but with every stinky relationship, or lack of relationship, her dream seemed to move further and further out of the realm of possibilities.
Tali scowled as she examined the would-be groom's face. She hadn't purposely been sketching anyone in particular. She had only been trying to pass the time. But now that she really looked at what she'd drawn, it was obvious—the man in her sketch was Gavin. She'd started this drawing after her encounter with him in the cockpit and he must have still been on her mind. There was no mistaking his telltale five o'clock shadow.
Damn it. Of course, she had to have a crush on the guy who was a total jerk to her all the time. Just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?
She traced the lines of the drawing, remembering what it was like when she'd run her fingers down his chest. She could still feel his warm flesh under her fingertips. She could see his dark eyes gazing at her hungrily, reflecting her own need. That handsome face of his—ugh, she'd slapped that handsome face.
Why had she slapped him? Why had s
he told him off and walked away from him?
Because he'd been a jerk.
True. But he'd also been right.
And what had she done in response? She'd run away from the truth, sulking like a spoiled brat. Tali looked down at her designer boots, her designer handbag still sitting on the chair next to her—her wrists adorned with baubles and sparkly trinkets. She cringed.
She forced herself to think about going back to the States and sitting in a stuffy boardroom with her father, listening to him chatter on about facts and figures and pointing at graphs on the wall. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She could almost smell the coffee and donuts in the air as she imagined being forced to sit for hours in the meetings she cared nothing about.
Gavin was right. She would never be happy doing something she felt forced to do. She'd never learn to love the boardroom like her father did. But what could she do about it? Her father needed someone to take over the business one day and that someone was supposed to be her. What would happen if she said no?
What would happen if she said yes? Would her father really want her to run his company, if she hated working there? Wouldn't he want someone who loved the job to run the company he'd created and poured his blood, sweat and tears into for years?
Wouldn't her father ultimately want her to be happy?
Tali sighed and glanced back down to the sketchbook still open in her lap. She wasn't sure she knew the answers, but she had to hope her father would want her to be happy regardless of whether or not she took over for him.
She flipped to a clean page and slipped the charcoal pencil out of the sleeve. She began sketching the scene of the terrace restaurant—the tables and chairs, the ivy climbing the walls and the city backdrop. Instantly the feeling of dread twisting in her stomach disappeared. A feeling of calm seeped in as if she were completely submersed in a tranquil pool.
She added in another detail to her sketch—a man, leaning on the edge of the stone railing bordering the terrace. Not just any man. Gavin.
Love on Landing Page 8