Annihilate Me 2: Vol. 1

by Christina Ross

  They both agreed.

  “Lisa and Tank, the couch is comfortable—I promise. There’s a full mattress under there, and you won’t feel any bar against your back. So, sleep well, OK?”

  “We’ll be fine, Alex,” Lisa said. “Thank you again for asking me along. I can’t wait to experience Singapore. I’m very grateful.”

  “You belong here. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He winked at Tank. “And neither would he. So, goodnight all.”

  As everyone around wished us a sound sleep, Alex and I already were moving down the cabin, and then we were gone.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, a rap came at our door.

  “It’s Amy,” our flight attendant said. “I know you wanted to get ready for your seven o’clock meeting. It’s five-thirty now. That should give you enough time to shower and change. Your clothes are pressed and ready for you just outside the door. I’ll have coffee and breakfast prepared by the time you come out.”

  “Thank you, Amy,” I said. “We’ll be about an hour.”

  “Please take your time.”

  “Would you mind waking Blackwell and Tank?” I asked. “They’ll need to share the other bathroom, so they’ll likely want to be woken now. We’ll all have breakfast together.”

  “They’re already awake and showered, and have had their breakfasts, as have Lisa, Cutter, and Max. Would you like me to wake Daniella and Alexa?”

  “Oh, God, no,” I said. “No, no, no. Let them sleep as long as possible. Let them sleep until noon if they want. When they’re awake, we’ll handle it from there.”

  “I understand, Mrs. Wenn.”

  “Please call me Jennifer.”

  She didn’t respond to that, but I heard her walk away.

  “I hate being called anything formal,” I said to Alex. “I’m no better than anyone else on this plane. She should be free to call me by my first name. Everyone should. But no one will listen to me except for Tank.”

  “That’s because you are Mrs. Wenn,” Alex said to me as he turned onto his side and scooped me into his arms. “And our employees are professionals—they take their jobs seriously. Besides, I rather enjoy hearing ‘Mrs. Wenn.’ I’ll never grow tired of hearing it.”

  “Remind me of that when I’ve hit nine months and I look like a pot-bellied pig.”

  “You’re not going to look like a pot-bellied pig.”

  “Fine—an over-stuffed turkey. You’re going to want to baste me with drippings and stick peppercorns in my gut. I’ll be a Butterball by Thanksgiving.”

  “Why are you so hard on yourself? You’re carrying our child. You’re going to be as beautiful then as you are now.”

  “Look, I know what I’m about to become—a pig at a trough. But as long as you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it. Blackwell, on the other hand, wants me to wear a corset.”

  “She was just joking.”

  “Was she?”

  He smiled at me. “I think you know that she was.”

  “I don’t think I told you this, but she agreed to be called ‘Grandmother’.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Our child needs one. She’ll be perfect.”

  “Beyond the news of our pregnancy, that’s the best news I’ve heard all week. Knowing Blackwell, she’ll probably have him or her in Brooks Brothers or Chanel by the time we leave the hospital.”

  “I didn’t even think of that, but you are so right.”

  He nuzzled his lips against my neck and kissed it. “How do you feel this morning?”

  “After last night? Fantastic. You were amazing, as usual.”

  “I aim to please.”

  “Do you think anyone heard us?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I screamed out your name at one point—somebody must have heard that.”

  “No, they didn’t. I know this plane. Our suite is airtight. I made sure of it when I bought it.”

  Diana had been alive then. He’d likely wanted privacy. Maybe he was right.

  “We’ve got time, you know,” I said. “Feel like another round?”

  He crawled on top of me, and already I could feel the heavy weight of his erection against my belly. “Is that even a question? Let me show you again how much I love you. Let me show you again how happy I am that you’re going to have our child.”

  * * *

  Later, just before seven, we emerged from our suite, showered and dressed. We met Blackwell and Tank in the conference room, which was blinding with the sunlight pouring through the windows on either side of us. Blackwell was the definition of perfection—already in a red Chanel suit, with her makeup and bob expertly attended to. Tank was in a black pinstriped suit with a blue tie. Each had a cup of coffee in front of them.

  “Good morning,” Alex and I said.

  “Well, good morning,” Blackwell said, turning to me. “Goodness, you certainly don’t look so pale today, my dear. In fact, if anything, I’d say that, for some unknown reason that’s a mystery to me, you look as refreshed as you do flush.”

  “We’ll see how that changes once I get a whiff of breakfast. That’s generally when I make a dive for the restroom.”

  She reached for my hand as I sat next to her. “It’ll pass,” she said. “Probably in another month or so. You’ll see. It does get better, Jennifer.”

  “Amy said that you’ve already eaten?”

  “That girl is terrific,” Blackwell said. “She should be working at Wenn along with the rest of us. She offered us fresh eggs, bacon, bagels, fruit, freshly squeezed orange juice, and coffee. I took the coffee. Tank here ate for two. I took the grapefruit, and offered him my breakfast to go along with his own.”

  Tank held out his hands to us. “What am I supposed to do with two eggs?” he said. “Look at me—I need the fuel.”

  “So do you, Barbara,” I said to Blackwell. “A grapefruit isn’t enough.”

  “I eschew the carbs,” she said. “If I give myself over to them, it’ll be sheer ruin. I’ll chew on some ice later. That always does the trick.”

  “You’re neurotic.”

  “What I am, darling, is a perfect size five.”

  “Barbara, give me some good news,” Alex said as he sat at the head of the table. “Where is our stock at today?”

  “I’m afraid we’re down another eleven points.”

  I turned to Alex when Blackwell said that, but saw that he had no reaction. His face remained impassive. “Any correspondence that I should know about?”

  “Nothing from the board, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Any word from Wei Jei?”

  “Just that he’s looking forward to seeing us. He plans on taking us out to dinner tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll officially meet with him at his offices and hopefully make him understand that he’s contractually obligated to find our phones the memory chips they need. If he doesn’t, he’s in breech of contract. His best option is to find a new manufacturer for the memory chips he’s short on, and eat the additional cost. Our job is to make him see that. If he doesn’t, you’re going to need to decide if it’s Wenn that eats that cost, which of course it must. Nothing can get in the way of getting that phone to market for obvious reasons. So, you pay for the chips, and on the sly, you choose the moment when you think it’s best to sue the bastard.”

  “And here is why I brought along Barbara,” Alex said with a smile. He nodded at her. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “What other choice do we have?”

  “None.” He sat back in his seat. “So, we begin with dinner. That’s a fine way to try to butter me up—not that it will work.”

  “How can our stock be down eleven points?” I asked. “How much more ground are we going to lose before things turn around? Where is Robert on this? What is PR doing to get the word out that the SlimPhone is a hit? Yes, it cost us plenty in R&D, but that’s finished for now. People must know, after selling over two-million units in its first week, that the da
mned thing will become profitable, especially after the favorable reviews. Alex already has made the rounds with the media. He met many of them one-on-one. What is it going to take to put a positive spin on this—and on everything Wenn is doing?”

  “Time,” Alex said. “That’s all we need—just some time. I’ve been through this before, Jennifer. I saw my father go through it several times. It will be all right.”

  “But how much longer do we have to wait?”

  “It could go on for the next month. Or the next three months. You need to be prepared for that. But at some point, Wenn will again be considered a ‘buy.’ I was hoping that it would happen sooner, but it hasn’t yet.”

  “And in the meantime, Stephen Rowe is angling to get you ousted.”

  “You and I both know that’s not going to happen.”

  “Regardless of how I threatened that sonofabitch, I still don’t trust him. I think he’s capable of anything—particularly when we’re away. God knows what he plans to say to the board in our absence.”

  And with that, Alex shot me a look. “But he won’t, will he? Everyone at this table knows why.”

  “He better not. Or I will expose him.”

  “I believe he knows that you will,” Blackwell said. “That man might come off as some wannabe alpha male, but at his core, he’s a coward. You’ll see. He won’t dare touch Alex now. Not after the way you handled him, for which I continue to applaud you, my dear.”

  I thought about the dozen black roses that Rowe had sent me, and I had to wonder if Alex and Blackwell were right. What was Rowe capable of? I didn’t know, and that’s what concerned me.

  When Amy brought Alex and me our breakfast, the combination of smells was enough to do me in. The bacon, the eggs, the coffee—all of it was too much. As quickly as I could, I excused myself from the table and ran toward the bathroom in our master suite, but not before I heard Blackwell say to Alex, “Just sit, love. She needs a mother now. I’ll take care of her. Don’t be concerned.”

  And Blackwell did take care of me.

  As I hurled into the toilet, she came up behind me, held my hair away from my face, and said, “Don’t worry if you get any of it on the Chanel. It’s four years old, and I don’t care. Just know that I’m here for you.”

  When I finished, I sat back and took the towel she handed me so I could wipe my mouth.

  “Do I look flush now?” I asked.

  “I was just trying to lift your spirits earlier, Jennifer. I was hoping that some humor might settle your stomach.”

  “None of this can be good for the baby. It’s not getting any proper nutrition. I can’t keep anything down.”

  “Anything?”

  I thought about that for a moment. “I can do pasta,” I said. “That seems to be relatively safe.”

  “Then you’ll eat pasta—even if it is loaded with carbs. It doesn’t matter that it is. And you’ll eat it for breakfast if you have to. You need to eat—and I refuse to be worried about you. If I have to make you pasta three times a day myself, I will.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “I should be at my best at that table, and yet I’m not. And now Amy is probably thinking this is all because of her. I’m too fond of her to think that, but I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking. I’m really screwing up right now, Barbara. This is not the time for me to be sick.”

  “I disagree. It is if you’re going to give your husband a child. It comes with the territory.”

  “So I’m learning. And it’s already affecting everyone around me.”

  “Look, if you’re worried about your husband, don’t be. Alex is delighted about the pregnancy. Here’s something you should know—Diana never wanted to have children, but Alex always wanted many. Don’t think for one moment that what you’re going through affects Alex in any way other than his heart going out to you. He loves you more than I’ve ever seen him love anyone else in his life—including Diana. He’d be here right now if I hadn’t intervened. But I wanted to have this moment to talk to you. To see what you’re going through, and to reach out to you. You have nothing to be ashamed about, Jennifer—for some, this is that natural course of having a child. You’re creating life, and life is never easy, even at inception. What you need to understand is that this might not happen every time you get pregnant. Your next pregnancy could be a breeze. Or not. We’ll never know. What I do know is that I don’t want it to put you off having another child, because this grandmother wants another grandchild.”

  “Grandmother,” I said. “You’ll be such a good grandmother.”

  “You have no idea. I fully plan on spoiling that child rotten, and serving it its first heaping of roughage.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle at that.

  “That’s more like it.”

  “Thank you for making me laugh. I’m sorry if my hormones are out of whack. I know that they are. I know I’m making an embarrassment of myself. The thing is, I can’t seem to control it. I’ve never been so moody in my entire life.”

  “Don’t be sorry. And you know I’m always here to make you laugh—no matter what it takes.”

  “You know, despite how rotten I feel, I’d never not do any of this. I know that Alex wants a brood of children. I’m willing to go as far as four—that should be enough. And we’ve agreed upon that. Even if I have to be sick for a few months with every one of them, I’ll do it. I love him that much.”

  “And that’s just one of the many reasons why he loves you,” she said. “And one of the many reasons why I love you. Now, come on. Are you all right now? Yes? Good. Where is your makeup kit? Oh, here it is on the vanity. Why don’t you brush your teeth again, and let grandmother tend to your face? How about that? Bernie has taught me well. By the time I get through with you, no one will suspect that you’ve been sick—and you’ll look like you’re nothing if not one hundred percent on the job, which I know is important to you.”

  “Thank you, Barbara.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” she said. “It’s what mothers are for.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Hours later, when our meeting was over, we joined the others in the main living space. Daniella and Alexa were awake, showered, dressed, and fed, but I could sense in them the fatigue that came from being in the air so long.

  Daniella was a fidgety mess—she had her earbuds in and was dancing to whatever music she was listening to on her iPod. She was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, and there was nothing on her feet. She was shaking her ass suggestively near Cutter, who was busy ignoring her while reading his Kindle. Alexa was sitting in front of the television watching what looked to me like a documentary on whales. She seemed bored out of her skull to me. Lisa now was seated next to Tank with her head on his shoulder, and even she appeared as if she’d rather be anywhere other than here.

  And so I took Amy aside and asked her how long before we reached Manila.

  “We should be on the ground in two hours. And then we’ll begin the eight-hour flight to Singapore.

  “So, another eleven hours or so, at the least?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I think Daniella is going to spin herself right into Cutter’s lap. And Lisa’s about to dive into napsville. Any ideas on how we can entertain everyone?”

  “I could always bring out a tray of cocktails.”

  “Barbara would have my ass if we did that, but that’s nothing new—and it’s not a bad idea. Maybe it would numb Daniella into submission. What time is it now?”

  “In which time zone?”

  “Thank God you’re clever.”

  “Just trying to help. But for us, it’s just after noon. How about if I serve lunch? Then, if you give me the nod, I could serve one cocktail each?”

  “What the hell? Let’s have lunch and then haul out the booze —none for me, though, because I’m not feeling well. Maybe an early afternoon cocktail party will spark everybody back to life.�
��

  “I’m on it,” she said.

  When she left, I went over and sat opposite Lisa and Tank.

  “Don’t look so excited,” I said to her.

  “I’ve never flown this far in my life—how do people do it?”

  “No idea. I’m itching to just get my feet on the ground.”

  “Hell, I’m ready to go all pope on your ass, and kiss the ground when we land. How are you feeling?”

  “Better. The mornings are the roughest.”

  “Tank told me that you got sick. I’m worried about you.”

  “It’s just morning sickness—don’t be.”

  She nodded over at Daniella, who was twerking to music the rest of us couldn’t hear. “At least you don’t look as rough as that,” she whispered.

  “Let’s just say that she’s working out a few issues…”

  “Boy trouble again?”

  “Good guess.”

  “A shopping spree should put a temporary end to that.”

  “You’re good to do this.”

  “Hey, I get to see Singapore. It’s my pleasure.”

  I was about to reply to her when the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.

  “Folks, just an update. For some reason, our heating system has malfunctioned. It’s likely just a loose wire, or a faulty chip, but it’s nothing to be alarmed about. Amy, if you wouldn’t mind getting blankets for our guests, including one for yourself, we’ll need them very shortly. In an effort to stay warm, we’re going to drop below the cloud line, where the air mass is warmer. You’ll still feel a chill, but it won’t be nearly as bad as it would be if we remained at thirty-five-thousand feet. We’ve already radioed ahead to Manila. They know of the issue, and they are prepared to fix the malfunction before we leave for Singapore. When we dip below the cloud line, we expect some turbulence, so if you would please buckle yourselves in, we’d appreciate it. We’ll be in Manila before you know it. Our apologies for any inconvenience.”