by Christa Lynn
“I’m not going, Jackson. I thought you would understand when I returned the tickets to you.” I say to him, my eyes lowering toward the concrete floor. I swear I hear him growl low in his throat. It’s such a sexy sound that I feel my panties moisten. I really need to get a grip on these feelings, it’s not attractive.
“Alexandra, I am not too proud to beg. I may not do it often, because I don’t have to. But you are worth begging for. Come with me this weekend and if things don’t go like you want, you can come home on Sunday and I will leave you alone. Forever. Please, Alexandra. I want to make things right.”
“Make what right? There is nothing to make right because nothing is wrong. You had to do what you had to do, and that’s your business. I’m nothing but a plaything to you and I have more respect for myself than to continue.”
“Is that what you think?” He says as he stalks toward me. His hands go to my face and his lips are on mine in an instant. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and pulls, sucking gently which causes my lips to involuntarily part. He slides his tongue in, and tangles it with mine. My body is betraying me again because I just can’t pull back from him. “Does that make you feel like just aplaythingAlexandra? Cause you are so much more to me than that.” He says as his green eyes penetrate my blue ones.
I can’t look away from him. Those emerald pools are sparkling and sincere. As I come back to my senses, I realize my hands are on his chest and my knees are weak. His strong hand is still on my face and he is looking me over like I’m a special gift. I don’t know if I can deny what I feel for this man. I don’t even know why I feel like this since I hardly know him, but he sends tingles through my body, igniting a flame that has long been burned out.
“Come with me, Alexandra. We’ll get to know each other, something we haven’t done yet. I will tell you everything, and then you can decide how you want to proceed. The ball is in your court and I will respect whatever decision you make, after this trip.”
I pull back from him, my hands burning from where they were pressed against his chest. I look up at him and see sincerity, pain and desire in his eyes. I suddenly can’t say no to this man. Before I even answer him, his cell rings. “Bentley.” He answers, still looking at me. “Yes, get Lola ready, we’re on our way.” He says into the phone before disconnecting the call. His voice jars me out of my trance.
“I didn’t pack anything and I have already missed my flight.” I tell him.
“Don’t worry about that. We will get you what you need. Come, let’s go.” He says as he takes my hand, pulling me toward a sleek, black BMW parked a few spaces over. “What about my car?” I ask.
“I’ll take care of it.”
He opens my door and waits for me to be seated before closing it. I watch him glide in front of the car to the driver side, looking confident.
He slides his large frame into the car and we exit the parking garage. I don’t know what to say to him, so I keep quiet for a few minutes. He is focusing on the road and trying to navigate traffic. Instead of exiting on to I85 South toward the airport, he gets off at Chamblee-Tucker Road. Okay, so now I am confused. “Where are we going?” I ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the car.
“PDK. We’re taking my plane.” He tells me.
“You have a plane?” I am in awe.
“It’s a corporate jet, yes. We have somewhere to be in New York and there is no time for a commercial flight.
I’ve only been here once to eat at the 57th Fighter Group restaurant for a company Christmas party a few years ago. He drives straight on to the tarmac at Peachtree-DeKalb Airport, almost to the door of a small jet. He parks and gets out of the car, but I sit still staring at the jet that sits before me. This is so surreal that I can’t move, feeling like I’m in a movie or dreaming or something. Things like this don’t happen to people like me. I know, I need to quit doubting myself, but when I am faced with things like this, I can’t help it.
“Ally, come on.” Jackson is at my door holding out his hand, a signal that it’s time to get out of the car.
“Wow.” I say. My vocabulary once again limited. “What kind of plane is this?” I ask, pretending to know something about planes, which I obviously don’t, but its conversation.
“It’s a Cessna Citation CJ4. It’s also my baby.” He smiles as he gazes toward the shiny white jet. We stop on the tarmac at the steps leading to the plane and Jackson motions for me to go ahead as he stops to speak to someone, maybe the pilot. “Ally, give me your car keys.” He says before I ascend the steps. I dig into my bag and hand them to him. He tells the person where my car is located and for him to pick it up and take it back to my apartment.
He then follows me up the stairs. I stop at the top looking in, “Amazing.” Is all I can say.I figured I’d better stray from theWOW’sand broaden my vocabulary a little.
“Have a seat, Alexandra. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll join you as soon as we’re in the air.” He says as he heads toward what I assume is the cockpit.
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask him.
He looks at me, “I have a plane to fly.” He says, turning back around, a subtle smile on his face. He’s flying the plane? Holy shit! I then realize I am going to be alone during takeoff and landing, and if you remember, I am not a fan of take offs and landings. Flying is one thing, but.....shit.
I choose a seat at the front, closest to the cockpit so he will hear me if I scream. As I sit, the soft, tan leather envelopes my body and I wrap the seat belt around me as I hear the engines start.
A young woman comes from the rear and asks if I would like something to drink while we prepare for takeoff. She tells me her name is Missy. “Do you have wine?” I ask her. She chuckles.
“Not a fan of flying, Ms. Sanders?” I just shake my head.
She turns toward the galley and comes back with a crystal glass of Shiraz. “Thank you.” I say as I take a big gulp, almost swallowing the entire glass before she walks away. If I keep that up, I will be too plastered to go anywhere. The cool wine calms me some and I notice that the plane is moving. Missy is buckled into a seat in the back of the plane, probably waiting until we are at cruising altitude to move around.
I place my glass in the holder and hold on, because the plane’s engines are getting louder and we jerk forward and I don’t want to spill the wine on the light beige carpet. I still don’t know what Jackson has planned, so I close my eyes and feel the weight of my stomach drop as we take off.
Jackson comes on the radio announcing that I can take off my seat belt and move about the cabin if I want, but I decide to stay seated, and keep my seat belt on. I am not comfortable with moving around when we’re twenty thousand or so feet in the air. When Jackson opens the door from the cockpit, he scans the cabin looking for me, thinking I’ll be roaming around. When his eyes find mine, concern takes over. “Alexandra, are you okay?” He asks as he sits down next to me, peeling my fingers off of the hand rest.
Still overwhelmed by all of this, I say nothing. I can’t even look at Jackson, my eyes glued toward the front of the plane. “Alexandra?” He asks again as he squeezes my hand. The pressure and warmth of his hand finally get my attention.
“Yes. Fine.” I tell him, but I don’t look at him.
“Alexandra, look at me.” He says as his thumb brushes across my bottom lip, which was between my teeth, now plump because of me chewing on it.
I look at him and his face softens. “I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t like to fly.” He apologizes.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind flying. It’s taking off and landing I don’t like. I’ve never been in a plane like this, so I’m a bit nervous.” Speaking of being nervous, I ask him in a shaky voice, “Who’s flying this thing?”
He laughs. Not a chuckle or a snicker, but a full on laugh. “Porter King, my co-pilot. Don’t worry, he usually flies the plane by himself. I don’t get to pilot the plane much, so I took advantage of it today.” He smiles at me.
I sink
back into my seat and try to relax. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “How long is the flight?” I ask him.
“About two hours. When we land, a car will pick us up and take us to your hotel. We have a fund raiser to attend tonight, so my assistant will have some evening gowns delivered to your room and someone to help with getting you ready.”
What he has just told me doesn’t register in my brain at first, so I just nod. After a minute, I realize what he just said. “Wait, what?” All I heard was evening gown and fund raiser. “What are you talking about?” I know I must look frazzled between the flight and what he has just told me. Heather would be in Seventh Heaven right about now, she lives for this stuff. I can’t help but wonder how Heather would handle this situation. I wish I could call her and tell her, in fact I probably need to because she will be worried.
I get lost in my thoughts so I completely forget what Jackson told me earlier. “Did you say fundraiser?” I ask him.
“Yes, I created a charitable organization to help young girls and women with eating disorders and other issues. This is the opening gala benefiting the Set in Stone Foundation.” I realize this is for Madison Stone and I suck in a breath.
“Jackson, I am so sorry about what happened to her. You are an admirable man for doing this, and I’m honored, though a bit taken aback, to accompany you to this gala. But, aren’t you worried about how this will look?” I ask him.
“What are you talking about?”
“This is a benefit for your ex fiancé and you arrive with another woman on your arm? At something like this, don’t you need to worry about what people will think?”
“I don’t care what people think, Alexandra. I want you with me tonight. I’m speaking during the dinner and what I have to say will explain a lot of things to you. I told you I would make this right with you, and I will. I want to do this and I want you with me. You may not believe this, but I have very strong feelings for you and there is no one else I want with me during this important gala. Please, Alexandra. Please join me?”
“Why didn’t you mention this to me before we left my office?” I ask.
“Cause I knew you’d say no, and I wasn’t going to accept that.”
He looks so vulnerable. Something I’ve never seen in him before. If I am not mistaken, I can see moisture in his eyes, like he’s about to cry or something. But as soon as I notice it, it’s gone. He blinks away the tear and looks at me. I nod my head agreeing to attend with him.
Missy comes by with the bottle of wine and a glass for Jackson. He takes it, nodding his thank you to the flight attendant, pours himself a glass and refills mine. “Aren’t you flying the plane, Mr. Bentley?” I ask him, smirking.
“Porter can land it. I’ll stay with you and hold your hand, since you’re scared.” He laughs. I smack him on the shoulder.
“I am not scared!” But he says nothing, just smiles at me. Bright, white teeth are exposed and he looks so carefree. “Okay, Ally, but I’m staying with you. Porter is more than capable of landing Lola.”
“Why Lola?” I ask.
“Lola was our housekeeper when I was growing up. My parents were always busy with work or community events, so Lola practically raised me. She passed away 6 years ago from breast cancer.” He tells me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She was an amazing woman and fabulous cook. Always kept me full and happy. She’d take me to football practice or to friends’ houses. She was like a fill in mother. She made sure my sister and I had all we needed.” This is the first I have heard about his family.
“You have a sister?” I ask and he nods, “Tell me about her.”
“Dani is an oncologist in Atlanta. You’ll get to meet her and her husband tonight, they flew up yesterday. She adored Lola, so she chose oncology as her specialty in a tribute to her and our mother, who also died from cancer. I named a plane after her.” He chuckles. “Her husband is Anthony, or Tony as I call him. He’s an aviation engineer with Lockheed Martin. He actually helped me purchase Lola.”
“Do they have any kids?” I ask him.
“Not yet, but they’ve been trying for a while. Her job is so stressful that I believe it is hindering her conceiving. If it doesn’t happen soon, she is going to take a leave of absence to try harder. They want like four kids or something and she’s in her mid-thirties. Guess they may have to settle for one or two huh?” He says.
“So she’s older?” I ask. I can’t believe he is divulging so much personal information, so I am soaking it up like a sponge and I want to know more. “Yes, by two years. How old did you think I was?” He turns the tables on me.
“I figured early thirties or so.” I don’t tell him that I know he is thirty three, because he’ll know I’ve been reading up on him again. “I’m usually a good judge of that kinda stuff, just don’t ask me how much you weigh, because I’m not a circus freak or anything.” I roll my eyes at him while he looks at me in amazement. Why? I’m not sure. He takes my hand and rubs my knuckles.
“No, Alexandra. You are definitely not a circus freak. I think you’re beautiful.”
Heat crawls up the back of my neck as I blush. “And you’re especially beautiful when you blush. I could look at you all day.” He says. Okay, now I’m a dark red, no longer a rosy shade of pink. How does he do this to me?
The pilot announces that we will be descending into JFK and for us to buckle up. Jackson grabs the belt and straps himself in. I have never unbuckled, so I’m all set. I down the rest of my wine and hand the glass to Missy who has come by to collect the glasses and the now empty bottle.
Landing is not as smooth in this small plane as it is in a commercial plane, but with Jackson next to me holding my hand, I survive it. After we have stopped, the doors open to the plane and we exit right out on to the tarmac where a limo is waiting for us. I suck in a breath, amazed to the power that this man has. I always knew wealthy people lived like this, but I never imagined I would see it firsthand.
Once we’re in the limo, Jackson gets on his phone talking to someone, I don’t know who. Sounds like he is making plans but I try not to listen to him. We arrive a short time later at The Mark Hotel in Manhattan. I haven’t paid much attention to Jackson as I have been looking out the window at the tall buildings and all of the craziness of New York City. Since I have never been here before, I am enthralled at what I am seeing.
As we enter the hotel, I am totally blown away again. Shiny black and white striped marble floors. Sleek black concierge desk and comfortable furniture. This was a designers dream. We check in and head to the elevators where Jackson presses ten. “I’ve decided to stay here too, instead of my apartment.” He tells me as I realize he only booked one room. “Relax, Alexandra. It has two bedrooms. You take the master and I’ll take the spare. Unless......” He drifts off.
He swipes the card and opens the door, motioning for me to enter first. I stop dead in my tracks. What have I gotten myself into? This is not a hotel. This is an apartment, fully furnished and eloquently designed. The living area is bigger than my entire apartment back home. A dining room and kitchen are to our right, with custom cabinets and top of the line appliances. Jackson leads me to the master bedroom to our left. On the floor next to the bed are two Bergdorf Goodman bags, which appear full to the rim.
He shows me the bathroom which is black and white, large soaking tub and separate glass shower. “What is this?” I ask, pointing to a ladder looking rack on the wall.
“It’s a towel warmer. Haven’t you seen one before?” He replies. I just shake my head in denial. I can’t believe things like this exist in the world.
He opens the closet door and there are four evening gowns hanging there, all in heavy cloth garment bags. “You should find everything you need in here, Alexandra. If you need anything, just press zero on the phone for the front desk. They will send up whatever you need. But, you have an appointment in the Frederic Fekkai salon in thirty minutes. Try on these dresses and pick the one you
want to wear tonight and I’ll take you downstairs.” And he turns to leave.
I immediately think of Heather and realize she is probably worried as hell about me. I’ve been so overwhelmed by all of this that I forgot about her. I grab my phone from my purse and turn it on. Once I have a signal the text messages start dinging. Eight messages from Heather and two voicemails. Instead of texting her back, I call her.
“Ally? Oh my God! Where the hell are you? I’ve been so worried! No one knew where you were! What’s going on, where are you?” She’s obviously frantic.
“Easy, H. I’m fine. I’m in New York with Jackson.” There. I’ve said it, now for the wrath of Heather to commence.
“You went? I thought you decided not to go? What did he do to change your mind?” Leave it to Heather to be suspicious. I give her all the details from meeting me in the parking garage to Jackson flying his private jet and now I am about to drop the bomb on the dresses.
“There are four dresses here he wants me to choose from for a charity benefit tonight. I’m going to try on each one and send you a text so you can help me pick the right one.” I tell her.
Once Heather has calmed down and breathing normally again, I set the phone down and grab the first bag out of the closet. After trying on each one and texting pics to Heather, we decide on the Herve Leger fire engine red scoop neck gown. I pair it with Armani sandals with crystals on them. I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to walk in them, but they are gorgeous! I then choose the Judith Leiber metallic clutch to put a few things in like, lipstick and ID.
I had just finished placing the items back in the closet and getting dressed when Jackson knocked, reminding me of my appointment at the salon. Boy, the rich and famous sure do live the life, don’t they? I already feel so out of place here because I definitely do not fit the bill. But it’s for Jackson, and for Madison. So I swallow my pride, heading out to the living quarters of the suite, and follow Jackson back downstairs to the salon.