Abandoned Girl (Neighpalm Industries Collective, #1)

by Winston, Lexie

  She squeezes onto the couch next to me and brushes my hair back from my face. Her hand is soft and gentle against my skin, and I close my eyes and revel in the loving feeling for a moment.

  "As long as you're okay?" she asks again, and I open my eyes and nod at her.

  "I am, and Samson got an extra scoop of grains in his feed for being such a clever boy." Turning to Chuck, I say to him, "Whoever they put on his back during the shoot should be safe as a house. He’s a pleasure to ride." Chuck’s pleased smile eases my worries.

  "If anything, it was my own fault. I’ve got so much going on in my brain that I wasn't paying enough attention. You can't let your guard down when attempting those maneuvers because that’s when things do go wrong," I tell Nana and Poppy, and they look at each other, guilt showing in their faces.

  "Oh, I didn't tell you that to make you feel bad. It was mostly about Mom." My words seem to ease their feelings slightly, and they nod, Nana patting my hand as though she can’t stand having some distance between us.

  "Harlow, I think maybe you should head into the hospital and get that checked just to make sure you haven't done any damage." Melinda’s quiet, sensible words set everyone into motion. Before I know it, I'm in the back of Chuck’s Land Rover, and we’re headed into Hartford to the emergency room. Poppy in the passenger seat and Max in the back with me. She's got a sneaky bottle of vodka in hand, and we keep taking sips. Me, not too much in case I need to take some stronger painkillers, but it’s giving me a nice warm feeling and taking the edge off the twinges of pain in my knee.

  Thanks to Poppy and Chuck's influence, the wait isn't long, and after being seen by a fairly hot doctor that Max keeps flirting with, I’m told that I've tweaked some of the ligaments in my knee. There’s no tear, but some solid rest is recommended for a few days. I hobble out of the ER with a set of crutches to relieve any weight-bearing to the knee, a prescription for some strong painkillers for the first couple of days, and instructions to alternate heat and cold compresses.

  I used to worry about taking painkillers or about how much alcohol I consumed, not wanting to become addicted like my mother, but the shrink helped me come to the realization that Mom’s addictions were a symptom of much deeper issues. The therapist brought me to understand that as long as I stayed aware of it, I could indulge in moderation and feel comfortable doing it. I tend to avoid recreational drugs, not worth the risk, though I did smoke a bit of weed during college.

  Max, now with the doctor’s number in her phone, runs into the pharmacy for me, and not long after, we’re headed for home again.

  Chapter Nine

  Harlow

  It's not until a couple of days later that we manage to leave. The DNA results have come through and confirmed that I am a hundred percent match to Bradley Summers.

  When the limo we’re in pulls into the airport and onto the private airstrip, my mouth drops open in shock. The Bostons are wealthy, but the Summers take it to a whole new level. Nana said we were taking their private jet back to California, and I was expecting a smallish private plane. That is so not what we’re parked in front of. This is like a full-sized airliner the public would fly on. It’s a pristine, shiny white, with the Neighpalm logo on the tail in green and black and a green stripe running the length of the plane.

  “Close your mouth, dear. Remember what I said. It’s unladylike, and a fly might go in if you're not careful.” She takes my crutches from me and hands them to the attendant who’s standing at the bottom of the steps.

  “This is Chris; he’s the co-pilot on this aircraft.” Without missing a beat, she introduces me to him next. “This is my granddaughter Harlow. Be a dear and carry those up for us.” He’s a handsome man in his late twenties, and he shakes his head, a slight smile on his face.

  “How about you carry them, and I bring Harlow?” he suggests, handing my crutches back to her. Before either of us can say anything, he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me up the staircase.

  “Oh, well, yes, that is much more preferable,” Nana titters behind us, and when I look back, she winks at me. Chris’ arms and chest are solid, and I feel secure, if not a little awkward in this stranger's grasp. But it is preferable to hobbling up all those steps, and he’s not too bad to look at either. Goodness, it’s like the president boarding Airforce One.

  When we get to the top, there’s another man and a woman waiting for us. Chris sets me gently down on my feet and steps to the side, taking the crutches from Nana again. She pats his arm, giving him a warm smile that I usually see directed at the Bostons and me. “Thank you so much, Chris.” She turns to the others, and her eyebrows raise in surprise when she sees the woman, but she quickly clears her face and smiles at the man when he greets them.

  "Welcome aboard, Mr. and Mrs. Summers, nice to see you again." The pilot's voice is warm and reassuring, and, like Chris, he’s nothing but smiles for all of us. "Did you enjoy your trip?"

  "Thank you, James, we did!" Nana replies graciously at him. "This is our granddaughter Harlow.” She turns to me. “James is the pilot of this plane. Both of them have been with us for a few years now and exclusively fly this jet for whoever needs it." She turns back to him, and I shoot him a quick smile, hoping it doesn’t convey the overwhelmed feeling that’s threatening to take hold. "I believe you've just fetched Jacinta from Paris Fashion Week, is that correct?"

  He nods his head while the flight attendant turns to me. "Welcome, Miss Summers. I hope you enjoy your first flight with us.” She’s a pretty, little, dark-haired woman, but the look on her face brings a negative twist to her otherwise pleasant appearance. There’s a slight sneer twisting her lips like I smell bad or something. Discreetly, I sniff my armpits before her words penetrate my brain, and I give up on that particular mystery. Miss Summers. My feet stop moving in shock, and I look at Nana and Poppy with panic in my eyes. Holy crap, that's my name now, or it could be. What should I do?

  "It's up to you, Harlow," Poppy reassures me, knowing what's going on in my brain. "We’d love it if you changed it, and we can get our lawyer started on it straightaway, but it’s completely up to you.”

  “Can I think about it?" My voice is quiet, the sound of the jet engines almost drowning it out.

  "Of course, you can," he replies. We follow the dark-haired flight attendant past a couple of doors and then into a huge open lounge section with a bar and comfortable plush seating. Stopping in surprise, my mouth drops open in shock again, and Nana just puts a finger under my chin, pushing it closed while tutting at me. I hurry to keep up with the attendant, who hasn't stopped, and she moves past the lounge to another seating area. On one side, there’s seating for six around a table, and on the other side is four around a smaller table. Nana slides into the seating for four, and I sit down next to her. Poppy slides in across the table from us.

  “This is where we sit for takeoff, but we can move once we’re in the air,” she informs me before turning to the attendant, who's handing Poppy a newspaper from a compartment above us.

  “Where’s Jilly, Veronica? She’s usually the flight attendant on our private jet.”

  Veronica purses her lips like she ate something bad before blanking her face and replying, “She’s off on one of her vacations for a week or so.” Though she’s saying something quite normal, her voice is thick with disapproval, making it sound like Jilly must be doing something horrible.

  A sly smile crosses Nana’s face, and she replies with enthusiasm, “Good for her! I admire a woman who takes control of life and doesn’t march to the beat of everyone else.” This time Veronica’s mouth starts to part in shock, her eyes widening slightly, before she informs us to strap in for take-off, and that she’ll return with refreshments once we’re in the air. With that, she flounces back to the front of the plane. Poppy laughs at her as he opens the newspaper he had been given, the sound just loud enough for us to hear.

  I quickly try and work out how to put my seat belt on, but my hand is shaking so badly I can't get it
in. Nana's small soft hand on mine stops my frantic movement, and she gracefully helps me. Then, she pats her hand on my leg, the gesture soothing me a bit like it did back at the Bostons’ house.

  "Jilly, our normal flight attendant, leads an exciting life," she starts. I know she's trying to distract me, so I indulge her. "She works for us and flies all over the world. Did you see Veronica’s face screw up in disgust?"

  “Terrible poker face," Poppy adds in from behind his paper. "Not good for private clients. I'll have to talk to Thomas about putting her back on the public flights," he grumbles.

  Nana just laughs. "Silly girl, she doesn't like things that buck the norm," she explains, and my curiosity gets the better of me.

  "What do you mean, Nana?"

  “Jilly’s bisexual," she confides in me, and I just shrug because that’s no big deal, but she continues with something much less ordinary. "She’s also polyamorous and has different lovers in every city she visits. That girl is living the dream." She sighs after giving me a wink, and Poppy's newspaper drops. Despite his frown, she waves at him nonchalantly, totally unfazed about admiring Jilly’s love life.

  "Hush, Howard, you know you're my one true love." That’s so super cute; they still love each other so much after all these years. He smiles, and his newspaper goes back up. "But if I were young again, I certainly wouldn't be settling for one if I could have more."

  The newspaper drops again, and his face is so shocked that it sends her into peals of laughter, but she sobers quickly. "Imagine if I hadn't had to choose between you and Edward. You and he might have stayed best friends instead of drifting apart as you did. You did everything together, but none of us considered that you could’ve shared me as well."

  A sad look crosses Howard’s face as he thinks about his old friend. "I wonder whatever happened to Edward."

  "You should find out. It's high past time that you two put aside your issues." He nods thoughtfully, the frown now gone.

  "And I’m still not opposed to sharing either," Nana cheekily finishes, and her eye sparkles as he chokes on a cough at her words, but a gleam enters his eye too. Oh my word. These people. I chuckle to myself, once more basking in the luck that out of all the grandparents in the world, these two officially belong to me. I fall more and more in love with them every day. Nana pats my leg to get my attention again.

  "See that as a lesson. Don’t make decisions that you’re going to regret. Jilly grabs life by the balls and gives a good yank; you should too." Nana’s crude words make laughter fall from my lips, but she may have a point.

  "Are they one night stands, or are they regular things?" I ask, my curiosity growing.

  "Oh no, dear. She's in committed relationships with these people. They may have others too, but they’re open with each other. Communication is the key in any kind of relationship, but it’s particularly important in an untraditional arrangement like Jilly’s. She travels so often and isn't in one place for long, so she can't fully commit to one person who expects her to come home every night. Jilly, I guess, has it easy because not often do her various relationships interact. The only one who may is James." She nods at the front of the plane, and my eyes widen in surprise.

  "He's with her too?" I ask, and Nana nods while Poppy's newspaper comes down again.

  “Goodness, Grace, you’re such a gossip.” Despite his words, there’s an amused undercurrent to his words, and she sticks out her tongue at him.

  "Howard, you old gossip, you're just as bad as me," she scolds him, but he doesn’t look embarrassed.

  "Rumor has it, Veronica tried to become one of James’ partners, but he wouldn't even consider her. It's why she’s so bitter,” Poppy whispers, and Nana looks surprised at this piece of news. Poppy smiles in satisfaction. “See, you don't know everything, woman.”

  Just as he tells me this, my stomach dips in protest, and I realize while we’ve been gossiping, we’re taking off. My hands grip the plush leather seat underneath me, and I hold my breath.

  "Breathe, Harlow. It's fine," Nana soothes and rubs my leg, and before long, the plane evens out.

  My knee starts to throb, and I look around the plane having not paid too much attention to it before. Poppy sees where I'm looking, and he puts down his paper and stands up, stretching. "How’s that leg feeling? Fancy a tour?" Even though it aches, I still want a tour, so I unbuckle and stand up.

  “This is an Airbus A350 and our family's private jet. As you know, Neighpalm Airlines is one of our companies." Poppy and Nana had given me a rundown of the companies in the Neighpalm Group, but a lot of it went in one ear and out the other. I was so overwhelmed by it all, but I do remember the airline.

  "We have a smaller one for United States travel that we usually use, but this had just landed when I called Brad, so he refueled it and sent it our way. To be honest, I think he was trying to impress you,” he confides to me, and a smile crosses Nana’s face as he says it.

  “He’s very nervous but excited to meet you,” she explains, and my heart accelerates with nerves.

  Poppy leads me back the way we came, and I hobble after him as he continues to talk. “So we have this plane and a smaller one, and we also have a couple of helicopters. A couple of the boys have their licenses, and it’s an easy way for them to quickly get from the estate into the city without having to wait for all the traffic.” My eyes just about pop out of my head at his words. I don’t even own a car. I used to travel back and forth from the university with Max or on the bus if she was busy. Sometimes, William would drive me back and forth. To be able to travel by helicopter blows my mind.

  “The kids use this one for their international travel, and they’ll often take a lot of people with them, staff or friends. Like Kai and his Neighpalm extreme sports team. If they're going to competitions or whatever, there’s a large storage hold for luggage in the very rear," he tells me, leading me through the lounge area.

  Kai’s the brother who runs the Neighpalm Energy branch; that leg of the company produces energy drinks and sports-related products. There’s also Thomas, the airline dude, Jacinta's the fashionista, and Declan, the movie executive, whose picture Maxine showed me. There are three more brothers, but I can’t remember their names off the top of my head or which business they belong to.

  We go past the two doors from earlier and pass by the closed boarding entrance, through what looks like a galley, and to where Veronica looks to be making something. She glances up at me, staring as we pass through. We get to a closed door, and he pushes it open; daylight assaults my eyes. I throw my hand up to protect them.

  "Oops! Sorry,” he apologizes as he rubs at his own eyes, “forgot it was daytime.” It's only now that I realize all the windows in the cabin were covered.

  "Hi, Mr. Summers. Have you brought Miss Summers up for a look?" Chris asks, climbing out of his seat in the very futuristic-looking cockpit and gesturing for me to sit down. He then inches past Poppy as he leaves, and I watch as he heads to the galley to make himself a cup of coffee. Veronica fluttering her eyes at him all the while.

  “Come on, Miss Summers, take a seat," James says, patting the vacated chair. "You can be my co-pilot for a little while."

  Poppy smiles and nods at me when I look at him, so I climb into the chair. "I'll just go and have a coffee with Grace, and I'll come back and get you in a bit, so we’ll finish the tour." Once I’m settled, he leaves, pulling the door closed behind me.

  "Just call me Harlow, please, James. I'm not sure how I feel about Summers yet." He gives me a sympathetic look and smiles to show his acceptance.

  “Alright then, Harlow. Ever been in the cockpit of a plane before?" His change of subject is appreciated, and it’s easier than I thought to get comfortable sitting next to him.

  "Actually, this is my first time on a plane ever." I blush at the admission, embarrassed by that fact. “It’s all a little overwhelming.”

  He whistles and then laughs. "What a first time experience. You won’t find many jets that are quite
as fancy as this one." Pride is evident in his voice, and he even seems to sit a little straighter with those words. The view out the window is nothing but blue skies, so my eyes drop to all the gauges in front of me.

  "It looks like something out of Star Trek," I admit, gesturing to them all, and he laughs again.

  "Yeah, this thing practically flies itself. So, what happened to you? How come you needed Chris to carry you up the steps?" He lounges back in his seat, face bright with curiosity, and I actually don’t mind talking about myself even though he’s a stranger. He’s got a way about him that makes you feel instantly comfortable. Maybe it’s because he’s so open and friendly.

  "Horse stunt went wrong," I tell him ruefully, and his eyes widen in surprise.

  "Oh, you ride horses, do you?" I can tell he's genuinely interested and not just being polite, so I relax back in my seat too, careful not to touch any of the buttons or knobs or anything.

  "Yeah, my foster parents train horses for movies, and I've been riding for them for as long as I can remember. But at the beginning of the week, I fell funny, and my knee has been giving me grief ever since.”

  "And is that what you want to do with your life?" he asks.

  "What? Train stunt horses?" He nods. "No, I've recently graduated from vet school." His eyes widen in shock, his mouth drops open, and a snort escapes my mouth.

  "Aren’t you a little young to be a vet?" He looks me up and down, and I return the favor.

  "Aren’t you a little young to be flying a big jet?” I return saucily, and he smiles, amusement and joy clearly shining through.

  "Nah, you can get your pilot license at 18. I got mine flying planes in the Air Force. I went to high school with Tom, and when he heard I got out, he offered me a job."

  "Tom? Oh, you mean Thomas Summers, right?" He nods again, and I can see his brain whirling behind his eyes. He takes a breath, and it looks like he’s reached a decision.