by Amy Rose
I contemplate my response, should I tell him I will be uncontactable this afternoon due to my flight to New York? No, he doesn’t need to know my movements, just that I may not answer. I figure I should just leave it. “Of course, Michael, good luck. I’ll talk with you soon. Hopefully with good news.”
After ending the phone call, I write a quick email to Jenny advising of the progress. She would need to know the facts in case Michael tried to reach me here at the office after I have left. She, too, could pass on this information to the sellers if they called and were looking for an update.
It was creeping closer to 11:30 am with each tick of the clock and I needed to make sure I got out of here on time. To ensure I don’t get caught, I start packing up now and then take my time walking out the door. It would then take a further twenty minutes to drive home. After collecting all my items and shutting down the computer, I turn my office lights off and close the door behind me. I bid my farewells to Sandra, James, and Jenny in turn before leaving the office and walking to my car.
The drive home is quicker than usual, mainly due to the lack of traffic at this time of day. I walk through my front door at 11:55 am. I have plenty of time to retrieve my makeup from my bag and, positioning myself in front of the bathroom mirror, I quickly touch up my face before returning everything to my check-in luggage. I then pick up both bags and drop them by the door.
Reaching into my handbag, I pull my phone from the side pocket and when the screen lights up, it shows it is now 12:15 pm. Even though I am running early, I decide to send a quick message to Elliot, just in case he is also ready early:
<: Hi Elliot, I’m ready whenever you are. See you soon. Angela :)
As soon as I hit the send button, my phone rings, scaring me, before looking at the number on screen I answer “Angela White.”
I recognized the voice immediately as Mr. Thompson. “Hi again, Angela. Kim and I have spoken with our bank and we have another offer. We want you to know, though, this will be our final offer. We simply can’t spend anymore.”
“I understand, Michael. What offer would you like me to present to the owner for you?”
“We aren’t able to come up to $340,000 like the owner requested. Our offer is for $335,000. Can you speak to the owners on our behalf? Let them know that we are very interested, and see if they might consider it?”
I smile into the cell phone, while punching the air with my free hand. Before I reply, I need to calm down, not wanting the excitement to be evident in my voice. I take a deep breath. “I can present your offer for you Michael. I am, however, taking a flight out of state this afternoon for the weekend, so I may not get back to you this afternoon. Would you be available to talk on Monday?”
“Sure, that’s no worries, Monday is fine. We will talk to you then. We will keep our fingers crossed that maybe you will have a good answer for us.”
“I’ll see what I can do for your family, Michael. I will talk to you as soon as I know more. Have a lovely weekend.” Dropping the phone from my ear, I end the phone call.
As I place my phone down beside my handbag, the screen glows. I see a text message had come through while I was on the phone. Swiping the screen open, it’s a reply to my earlier message to Elliot.
<: I am about to pull up in front of your apartment building. I’ll see you shortly. Elliot
As I am reading the text message, a loud knock echoes through my front door. I jump at the sound and drop my phone on my foot. I silently curse to myself as I bend down to rub my foot and pick the phone up. Once I’m back upright, I wander across the short distance to my front door. I open it wide and see the welcome sight of Elliot, standing there with his left arm leaning against the door frame, his arm muscles tight, holding his body weight. A small smile spreading across his face the moment our eyes lock onto each other’s. “Hello there, are you ready to go?”
He breaks our eye contact, travelling down my body until they land on the two bags just inside the front door, once his eyes land on the bags, he bends down and scoops them up. “Is this all you need to take?”
“Yeah, just those two and my handbag”
“Are you ready to go then?”
I nod, “Yes, I’ll just grab my things. I’ll follow you down.” I could feel embarrassment flushing across my cheeks. Not wanting Elliot to see, I turn around and make a beeline for the kitchen counter, retrieving my keys and depositing my phone into my handbag. Once I have everything I head out. As I take the first step, I think to myself, what on earth have I got myself into this weekend?
~ Chapter Sixteen ~
When I reach the bottom step, there he is waiting for me at the rear passenger door of his car. As I approach, he opens the door for me and ushers me in. Once I sink into the comfortable black leather seat, he shuts the door with a thud. I fumble trying to fasten my seatbelt; just as it latches he opens the rear driver side door and slides in beside me. Once inside, he latches his belt quickly and closes the door. “Continue to the airport now, Price.” Then he turns to face me. I see him do so out of the corner of my eye. I was looking at the driver. Was this a regular occurrence? I had seen the same gentleman the day that Elliot viewed Belle Meade, so it certainly wasn’t a one-time thing.
“Yes sir,” was all this Mr. Price replied, and we soon pulled out on our way to the airport, driving among the traffic.
I return my attention back to Elliot. He looks as handsome as ever in a simple white polo shirt and light blue jean shorts. These were accompanied by white boat shoes and his sunglasses. He looked so much like a movie star that it was easy to forget that he wasn’t. Instead, he was actually a CEO of a multimillion dollar business.
“I like that color blouse on you,” he voices.
I blink and instantly remember that this is my short sleeve pink blouse, the one that is also a little low cut. I glance around for my carry-on bag and don’t see it. I realize that it must be in the trunk of the car with my other bag. I readjust the top slightly so it will sit a little higher. “Thank you, I like pink.” I pause for a moment “How has your morning been?” I ask.
“Pretty good, I went for a swim back at the hotel” I love how casual he is, as though going for a swim isn’t a big deal, and it’s not, really, it’s not. I guess it’s just not something I expected him to say.
“Better than mine, then. I attended a boring meeting.”
Of course he does.
The car ride doesn’t seem to take as long as I expect. As the next thing I know we are pulling up outside the domestic terminal. I take my phone and keys out of my lap and reach to open the car door. Before I can secure my hand around the latch, it opens. Mr. Price gives me a slight nod as I exit, “Thank you.” I smiled up at the gentleman.
He closes the door once I had exited and was out of the way. I was making my way towards the trunk where Elliot was already retrieving the luggage. I quickly seize my carry-on and slip my phone and keys inside while also retrieving my scarf, and quickly rope it around my neck twice, adjusting it to cover up the low neckline. Once satisfied, I sling the bag over my shoulder diagonally.
I reach to grab my overnight bag and pick it up, then turn to face the entrance. Elliot is beside me in a moment, carrying two large bags. One in either hand and what looks very similar to a laptop bag slung over his shoulder, similar to the way I had my carry-on bag. “Let’s go in. Follow me, Miss White.” Elliot gives me a brief smile, then takes off toward the inside of the building. I follow him as we weave in and out of other people who are also trying to get to airline attendants to check in.
I follow Elliot to the American Airlines counter. He is speaking to a bored looking blonde lady with far too much makeup when I approached. “Two seats booked under Sands.”
The lady behind the counter taps on her keyboard. She must have found Elliot’s reservation as she suddenly stands up straight and gives him a huge smile showing all of her slightly yellow teeth and bats her false eyelashes. “Yes, Mr. Sands, I have two first-class tickets b
ooked under your name, one for yourself and the other for…”
I see her pause and frown slightly “…a Miss White.” She then looks away from Elliot and looks me up and down. I am thankful that I am wearing nice clothing today and had reapplied my makeup before arriving here.
I force myself to smile, “Yes, that’s me” I move closer toward the desk till I am standing next to Elliot. We both hand her our driver’s licenses.
“Any luggage to be checked, Mr. Sands?” The eyelashes are batting every second now. Oh blondie, it’s just an incredibly handsome face.
He hands her his baggage, then turned to me “Care to pass me your bag, babe?” I looked at him and he winked. Miss false eyelashes’ mouth falls open as though she had just been a witness to something terrible. After he places my bag on the conveyor belt next to the attendant, Elliot drops his hand in between us and grabs my hand. He then lifts it slowly and pulls it to his lips, gently kissing each of my knuckles. Then he retrieves our driver’s licenses.
It takes me a moment to catch on to what is happening, but as of right now I do. He doesn’t like strange women flirting with him any more than I do. Not that it should affect me, after all he isn’t mine to get jealous of. So, we are playing a game. If he acts like he’s unavailable, they won’t be so openly flirtatious.
The attendant gives us our tickets and points us in the direction of the first-class lounge. As soon as Miss Blonde stops talking, Elliot is guiding me by the hand the way that we are directed. Obviously he knows his way around an airport. Surely, they all must follow a similar layout scheme.
We walk hand-in-hand with only our carry-on luggage around both of our bodies. He occasionally runs his thumb over mine. Those electric sensations are covering my skin and moving up my arm. How could a single touch from this man do this to me? I can see the sign for “American Airlines First Class Lounge” clearly now. It was only about one hundred feet in front of us.
Elliot shows our boarding passes to the pretty brunette behind the counter. Her name badge reads ‘Brianna.’ She smiles warmly and speaks. “Welcome Mr. Sands, Miss White to the American Airlines First-Class Lounge. Your flight will be boarding in fifty minutes from Terminal Fifteen. Please, enjoy our facilities in the meantime.”
Unlike Miss Blonde from earlier, Brianna looks at me while she speaks and seems genuine in her smile. She doesn’t bat her eyelashes at Elliot either. I quickly glance at her outstretched hand which is passing our boarding passes back to us, and notice a nice set of wedding bands on her ring finger. How lovely, she found that special someone who she loved and who loved her enough to marry her.
Dylan proposed marriage back when we were happy, before the abuse began. We were kids, really. He had just completed his building apprenticeship, so we were out at dinner celebrating when he got down on one knee in the middle of the restaurant and asked me to marry him. I accepted, over the moon that he had asked. Less than four months later we were separated, and I had a restraining order slapped on him. I also skipped out of New York and found myself in Nashville.
“Angela, are you in there?” Elliot is looking at me with a grin. He waves his hand in front of my face.
“Sorry about that, I was just remembering that I need to make a work call this afternoon when we land.” He doesn’t pry any further. I thought that this excuse would get me out of trouble.
“I was wondering if you would you like a glass of wine, Angela?” I notice we are standing in front of a small, ornate timber bar. The gentleman behind is wearing all black and has his blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He has a small diamond stud twinkling in his right ear.
I am a nervous flyer so I don’t decline the wine, “I’ll have whatever you’re having, dear” I give him my most relaxed smile, hoping that he will relax along with me.
He returns the smile and then turns to the bartender. “Two glasses of your best cabernet, please.”
Once the wine is poured and the two glasses placed on the bar, we pick them up and wander across to a beautiful dark brown leather Chesterfield couch that was situated in front of a fireplace. We sit down next to each other and take our bags off our bodies. I place mine beside me on the couch Elliot puts his on the floor leaning against the couch he then put his legs over the top, a protective position, I was sure. Seeing him do this I automatically snake my arm around the strap on my bag and then place my wine glass in that hand. I test the resistance by taking a sip of my wine, I didn’t even feel the strap pull against my arm. This will work. I took another welcome sip. This should help ease some of my nerves, shouldn’t it?
As I was looking around my surroundings, I couldn’t help but feel happy and thankful, “I’ve never been in a first-class lounge before.”
Elliot looked up. “Really? Never?”
I shook my head slowly. “Never” I replied. I decide this was safe enough conversation. “You must fly first class all the time?” I take another sip of my wine. It was delicious.
“I have flown first class a few times, but I have also flown business and economy too. It really depends how far I’m flying. For instance when I flew to Sydney, Australia last year, I flew first class; being a twenty-two-hour flight, I knew I would sleep on the plane. Same as when I was in London earlier this week, I chose business as it’s a little over seven hours.” He was looking at me intently. “Do you fly often, Angela?” he asks.
Do I tell him this is only my third time on a plane, or play it safe? I decide safe. “Not often.” Non-committal, he nods at my response.
“Have you been to New York before?” I notice he looks like this question worried him.
I decide to tell him the truth, leaving out specifics. “I have, indeed. In fact, I lived there for the first twenty or so years of my life. This is the first time back in approximately a year, and then a couple of years before that.” I looked from him to my wineglass then toward the fireplace. He didn’t answer straight away. I was about to speak again when he beat me to it.
“I must have moved back around the same time you left, then.” I shrug as my response.
A man’s voice booms over the PA system at that time. “All those boarding flight A1216B to New York, please make your way to Gate fifteen. That’s fight A1216B to New York, make your way to Gate fifteen. Thank you.”
“That’s us!” I squeak out. Time sure has flown by. I swallowed my last sip of wine and place my glass down on the table, stood up and swung my bag over my shoulder again. Elliot, too, had finished his wine and placed his bag over his right shoulder this time.
“Let’s go then,” he replies. Offering me his left hand which I take without thinking. If nothing else, it would help us stick together among the crowd we would pass on our way.
Gate fifteen is less than a five-minute walk from the first-class lounge. A few people are already there when we arrive. Elliot leads us to the first class counter, flashes our tickets and the air hostess shows us through. We walk down the tunnel to the plane and my heavy breathing starts. One glass of wine has not helped my nerves much at all. By the time we reach the open door to the plane. I can feel my palms getting sweaty. I hope that it isn’t as obvious to Elliot. He shows our boarding passes to the male flight attendant at the door, who then shows us to our seats. There are two large black leather chairs with quite a substantial distance between each row which provides lots of legroom.
“Would you like the window seat, Angela?” Elliot asks.
I nod. “If you don’t mind?”
He responds, “Of course not.” I slide into my seat and fasten my lap belt. I place my bag onto my lap and look out the window.
“Want me to place your bag in the overhead compartment while I’m here?”
I snap my head back to face him and I see he is smiling at me. “Sure, I’ll just grab my book out and turn my phone on airplane mode.” I do just that and hand him my handbag. He places it in the cabinet, closes the door and then sits beside me, fastening his seat belt, too.
“I’m a nervous flyer, E
lliot, I might as well just say sorry to you in advance. It’s a real possibility that I may be unwell during the trip,” I blurt out. Way to go Angela, sure way to embarrass yourself. I felt the all too familiar flush cross my cheeks and know I am turning a shade close to a tomato.
Elliot surprises me by raising his hand to my cheek and stroking it with his forefinger. He then drops his hand to envelope mine. “You will be fine. I’m right here the entire way, baby.” He smiles at me, and just like before lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. I smile at him and then look around the cabin. No one was watching us this time, so why would he make this display of affection?
I turn back to him and see his eyes are intense. I couldn’t break eye contact with him so instead I simply say, “Thank you for being here with me.” I smile at him. On the inside I am screaming at myself, of course he is here with you, you idiot, he paid for the flights! Where else would he be?
The pilot comes over the PA system advising that we are due for take-off. We begin taxiing down the runway as the flight attendants run through the safety procedures. “Hey it’s okay, just hold my hand.” Elliot’s voice is soothing and comforting at the same time. I hold his hand, possibly a little too tightly, however he doesn’t complain. “Hey, look at me. We’re about to take flight.” I turn to look at him, his face full of emotion and kindness. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles again, and a wash of calm comes over me.
I don’t know how long we sit staring into each other’s eyes, but the next thing I know, the flight attendant is offering us a slice of baked French cheesecake or lemon meringue pie. I choose the pie and Elliot the cheesecake. I am also served a cup of tea and Elliot orders a latte. The lemon meringue was delicious. With a zingy filling and a feather light meringue. The base was lovely and crumbly. We eat our desserts in silence, looking at each other in between bites. “Would you like to try the lemon meringue, Elliot?” I ask. I have a small amount on my fork ready just above my plate.
