by J. M. Maurer
Aside from meeting up at the café to grab a quick bite on Friday evening, we haven’t been able to spend much time together. Eli’s reassignment to cover for the cameraman who is now on an extended leave of absence has also kept him busy, but not so much that he hasn’t popped in at my office to check in on me, or texted me with some funny saying each time he gets super bored. And he seems bored—a lot.
With next to nothing exciting to look at on my radar, I’ve become fairly disinterested too. I lock in on my four screens anyway and, when I can, glean as much information as I can from Jim Tagarelli, the senior meteorologist who works the same weekend hours I do. He’s a walking encyclopedia, a wealth of knowledge with his brain full of every detail of every storm system that has ever hit the region. As fascinating as his stories are, my thoughts often move ahead to the three days Eli and I will be spending together at my parents’ house.
During the last hours at work on Sunday, I catch myself constantly glancing over to the widget I have set up at the bottom corner of screen four, the countdown in hours, minutes, and seconds seemingly moving at a snail’s pace toward our departure. I’m not sure how I manage to reign in my elation once I get to my apartment, but I do, and even get in a couple hours of sleep before Eli and I are due to head out to the airport the next morning.
After another long discussion about using public transit, this time at four o’clock in the morning, I justify taking Greta by telling Eli that I know the red line as well as I know how to read a map full of different kinds of weather. I add that the subway is practical and cheaper than leaving his car in a lot, and that our hop-on station is only a couple blocks away from my apartment building. He concedes, but I think mostly because it’s so early in the morning and he knows he will be there with me.
It’s dark outside, but in the mellow lighting inside our subway car, I can see he’s nervous despite my efforts to help him relax.
“You’re not still worried about Greta, are you?” I ask, hoping that’s exactly his problem and that he’s not second-guessing going on this trip.
He shakes his head, but I can tell he’s still nervous or worried about something. I want to ask him to let me in and tell me what is going on in his mind, but I won’t ask for more than he’s willing to give. We hardly know each other, and perhaps it’s just something he’s not ready to discuss. I don’t want to be the nosy friend who pushes him away, so I ask him about his weekend, using it as a diversion to help him relax, and watch his expression as the train sways from side to side along the track. He doesn’t have much to say, so I reach over and give his forearm a loving squeeze. It felt good when he massaged my shoulder during the drive to my first live shot, so I give it a try in hopes that my touch has the same effect on him.
“I think it’s my turn to tell you to relax.” I smile, seeing Eli do the same. But he still seems off. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
“Do you trust me?” I ask as the train slows to a complete stop.
“I do.”
“Then just enjoy being my guest. I promise I’ll take good care of you. Come on.” I offer Eli my hand as I stand up. “This is our stop.”
He lifts out of his seat, clasps a tight grip around the handle of his luggage with one hand, and takes my proffered hand with the other, giving it a firm squeeze. “You’re right. It’s time to go have fun.”
“And it’s time to go find our plane.”
Eli follows close at my side as I lead him up a set of stairs, through a private check-in gate, then down to our terminal where a security guard ushers us outside and over to our plane. Once Eli sees where we are headed, he tugs my hand, an obvious plea for me to stop and turn to him.
I comply and shift to find a questioning look flash across his face.
“Umm, Makayla?”
“You okay?”
He furrows his brows and tips his head toward the plane. “Do you always travel like this?”
I follow his gaze, seeing the glare of lights from the terminal as they reflect off the plane’s sleek black shell, and scan down a ladder with eight steps pulled down before returning my sight to Eli. “It’s a bit of an upgrade from Greta, but I think you’ll like it.”
He doesn’t seem amused and the glimmer that typically lights up his eyes is gone. Replacing it is a look of fear. And oh how it consumes his face.
“Eli, don’t worry. Bombardier makes the safest planes. In no time at all, we’ll be back on the ground. I won’t leave your side. I promise.” I start to worry since he looks like he’s about to bail. I don’t want that happening; the more time passes, the more I can’t wait to get him home.
He shakes his head. “It’s not flying I’m most worried about,” he says as our flight attendant removes the luggage handle from Eli’s tight grip.
“Good morning, Mr. Barringer. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Cory says as Eli figures out what to do with his hand. “Miss Makayla, it’s been a while.”
“Good morning, Cory. I hope we’re expecting a smooth flight back to Oklahoma.” I peek over at Eli knowing it will most likely be anything but smooth, now that I’ve got quite a few secrets to tell.
“Yes, ma’am. Go on up, dear. Your mother is thrilled you’re coming home.” Cory turns to Eli and tips his head. “Mr. Barringer.”
Eli stares, and I can tell he’s overwhelmed.
I leave my bag on the ground, take his empty hand, and draw it to my chest. “Come on up with me. Inside, you can tell me what has you so worried. Okay?”
He sighs but follows me up the steps. I can almost feel the many questions floating through his mind, as if they’re right there, palpable in the cold morning air surrounding us.
I lead him past the galley, point out the lavatory in case he needs to use it, and decide that now is not the time to tell him about the private bed and bathroom in the back of the jet.
“We can sit together at the table or face to face.” I gesture toward the seats. “You pick.”
More than anything, I want Eli to feel comfortable.
He stares at me, his eyes studying mine, and then after a beat, takes a seat by the window. “Makayla,” he says, looking around the cabin, his expression one of disbelief. “I… I think I might have a few questions.”
A mixture of discomfort and confusion radiates off Eli in waves. It’s completely my fault, and that only makes me feel worse.
I hate seeing him like this. But as important as it is for me to make my own way—without my parents getting involved and paving the golden road at my feet—I also want my friends to like me for being the person I really am.
Right now, I’m Makayla Reading. Not Makayla Renee Stan, the daughter of an oil tycoon who everyone back home in Oklahoma knows about.
I suppose that was part of the appeal of moving to Cleveland and taking a fake name. Aside from my relationship with Caleb, I hoped that away from my family’s fortune, I’d be able to find out who I wanted to be and make a name for myself. Now I feel terrible that I’ve left a huge chunk of my life out. And I’ve done so with every conversation Eli and I have ever had.
Sure, I’ve told him about Celia, my little sister. I’ve mentioned my parents here and there. He knows where I grew up. Where I went to school. All about my college and soccer career. It doesn’t lessen the fact that by omission of necessity, I’ve clearly left a whole lot out.
I want more than anything to put him at ease and hold his hand, but with two hours to acclimate Eli to all the wealth I know he will be immersed in, I slump into the seat across from him feeling like the piece of shit I hope he doesn’t think I am.
I think back to our first night at the café when Eli mentioned his childhood—how his mom had raised him and his little brother in a single-parent home—and then while we got to know each other better while playing Clue. At the time, Eli laid his childhood out on the table in front of me, revealing a canyon full of differences between how we each grew up. I couldn’t empathize with him; I
don’t know what it’s like to have to work my way through college. I didn’t have to quit playing soccer because my parents could no longer afford it—the club fees, the tournament fees, the private lessons, the hotels, and the crazy cost of extra warmups and uniforms that came along with playing.
But Eli knows what it’s like. Even so, it doesn’t matter to me that he clearly hasn’t come from money or that he’s not from the small elite circle of wealth that I grew up knowing. I’m confident I’d have the same feelings for him if I had found him inside a cardboard box.
Because even though I haven’t known him all that long, I know I’ve found his heart. It’s beautiful and amazing and filled with pure gold. I see it. And sitting before him, I pledge to myself to do everything in my ability to take care of that heart of gold.
“I suppose breakfast is as good a time as any to tell you more about my family.”
“Breakfast,” Eli says as more of a statement. “Of course we’re having breakfast.”
I wish I could go back in time and make things right. Knowing I can’t do that, I opt to try to make things right going forward. “Well, it’s not my mom’s cooking, but it’s good.”
“Your mom cooks?” he asks, raising a brow.
I know I can no longer set aside the pieces of my life that I typically leave out during casual conversation with almost everyone else.
Clearly Eli isn’t everyone else. He’s become quite special to me. And even though I have a feeling that drip-feeding him information over breakfast isn’t going to be enough, I have to come clean.
“Benji.” I throw my arms around his bulging belly and give him a gentle squeeze.
“You’ve grown weak in your time away,” Benjamin says, returning my hug. “A newborn could squeeze harder than you.”
I scoot out of his hold and scan him head to toe. He looks every bit the man I’ve known since I was a little kid. “Mom said to go easy with you. That you haven’t been feeling well. Everything okay?”
Benjamin chuckles and pats my shoulder with affection. “You know your mother. I suspect she used me to make sure you came home.” He takes my bag and scoots over to Eli, offering to shake his hand. “You must be Mr. Barringer. Welcome, sir.”
Appearing more comfortable, Eli nods in thanks with a smile as he shakes Benjamin’s hand. We make our way out to the limo and Benjamin lifts our bags into the trunk.
He closes the lid and turns to me as the cool breeze filters through my hair. “Mrs. Stan has you both on a tight schedule. So I’m afraid you will be seeing a lot of me.”
He opens the door and ushers us into the limo.
Eli seems at a loss for what to do but follows me inside, his eyes taking in plush black leather and all the technical upgrades the limo has to offer. Hoping to ease any nervous jitters he might be having, I search out his hand and give it the squeeze I held back when I was giving Benjamin his hug.
I already know the answer to the question I’m about to ask, but for Eli’s sake, as soon as Benjamin has us away from the commotion of the arrival lane, I raise my voice and project it forward. “So you couldn’t talk Mom into letting us make any plans on our own?”
Benjamin shakes his head. “You know your mother means well. She loves you and wants you both to have a good time. As usual, Mrs. Stan has your itinerary set and ready in the system for your viewing.”
“The passcode unchanged?”
Benjamin tips his chin.
“Thank you,” I say, shifting back to Eli.
He scratches his forehead, appearing as though he hasn’t a clue as to anything Benjamin has said. “I feel like a broken record, but is your mother always like this?”
I search his face, knowing I have so much more to tell him. “Part of the reason I played soccer for so long was for all the out-of-state tournaments. Mom was always busy with work, so she rarely tagged along. Those days away from being overscheduled were some of the best days I ever had. But like Benjamin said, Mom means well. She really does, and I don’t resent her need to keep me busy and out of trouble while growing up. There just came a time when I was ready to make my own decisions.”
Eli nods, a glint of understanding in his eyes.
I dig my phone from my purse and power it on, then tap a fourteen-digit code onto the TV screen that’s tucked into the wall of the limo. Once I have access to the system Mom uses for organizing everyone’s schedules, I hold my phone against the screen and wait.
“I have a feeling you’re going to get really sick of my questions,” Eli says, his warm breath pulsing down on my shoulder.
I turn back to meet his gaze. “That’s not possible. I happen to love hearing your voice.”
He smiles, giving me what I’ve been missing since before we took Greta and boarded our plane. “Is all this top secret, or can you tell me what you’re doing?”
“It’s how Mom likes it. But much to her disapproval, I stopped giving her access to my schedule the day I left for Cleveland. Believe me, she wasn’t thrilled about that. It drove her nuts not to be able to have her assistant Adalyn make adjustments to my schedule. But I needed my own life. You know?” I shift my sight to my phone. “I’m synching our itinerary to my calendar. Once it’s updated, I can show you and even email it to you if you like.”
Eli sits back as I move my focus back to him. The look on his face tells me he’s catching on to what my life was really like. Though he won’t fully understand until Benjamin gets us home.
To pass the time during our drive north out of Oklahoma City, and hopefully ease any worries Eli might have about my family or our stay, I move a few things on the screen and pull up the schedule to show him. Scrolling through it, I suck in a breath.
“You okay?” Eli asks, clasping a firm hold with his warm hand on my leg. “You flinched.”
“I… I’m more than okay.” I turn to face him. “I think my mom has had a stroke. Or something,” I say facetiously. “I mean, look.” I twist back to the screen, feeling Eli scoot in and slide his arm over my shoulder. “There’s nothing scheduled until tonight.”
Except one thing.
Acting upon a split-second decision to keep one last secret from Eli, I quickly exit the calendar and power off the screen.
He smiles, sinks back in his seat, and gently glides his fingers across my back. “And now what does Makayla want to do with all her free time?”
I tilt my head and raise my brows. “Well, I promised you we’d have fun. So we could start off by hitting some of my favorite sights.”
He leans in close, threading his fingers with mine, and whispers a string of words that heat my insides. “I’m already having fun. And just so you know, I’m certain the most beautiful sight in Oklahoma is already sitting next to me.” He gently taps his lips to my ear. “By the way, I love seeing you this relaxed. And happy.”
I shiver from the feel of his breath at my ear and twist to meet his gaze. “I’m thrilled to have you home with me. I can’t wait to show you around.”
It’s the truth, but given the way Eli fixes his piercing eyes on me, it will be nearly impossible not to lock both of us in the third-floor tower and never come out.
Is it safe to pretend for the next three days that we aren’t coworkers? And if we do pretend, will we be able to go back to just being friends once we return to Cleveland? I give it more thought as Benjamin turns onto the long road that leads up to my parents’ house.
Eli squeezes my thigh, a slow sensual smile lifting upon his face. He knows we’re close; I feel it along with many other things cruising swiftly throughout my body.
I return his smile. Lord, help me.
It’s been months since I’ve been home, but the long road, flanked by lacebark elm trees on each side, looks the same as I remember it looking every December.
Thousands of white lights twinkle in the branches, casting a soft glow along the entire quarter-mile drive up to the house. The tension from our talk on the plane has lightened, and I watch as Eli gazes out his side win
dow. He seems to be taking everything in, his eyes scanning the property as the sun peeks up over the horizon. I wonder if he’s imagining a hot day in the summer with the breeze blowing the lush green leaves and how the open field off in the distance would make a perfect place for a romantic picnic.
I’m not really sure what he’s thinking, but as Benjamin pulls to a stop on the circular stone driveway, Eli’s eyes grow wide. He seems to enjoy watching the fountain as the water lifts into the air and crashes down, changing in color from green to white to red, and then back to green to start the cycle over again. After seeing how he reacted to my dad’s plane, I can only hope that when he looks to the right, he’s not too overwhelmed by the size of my parents’ home.
Old money paid for much of the land my parents own. You wouldn’t know that just from the appearance of our house, which has classic French provincial architecture, steep rooflines, and lots of modern-day charm. I love it, and I hope Eli will too.
In time, he follows my gaze out my window and grins. “Who’s the lucky one to get the third floor?”
“The tower is all yours.” I smile and nod toward the door. “Come on. I’ve got the key to a secret passageway, and I can’t wait to lock you up inside my favorite room.”
I wink and the look on Eli’s face tells me he knows I’m teasing, but I’m not certain I am.
As Benjamin removes our luggage, I move to his side, unzip my bag, and pull out a small gift. I fix a few wrinkles in the ribbons, and then level my gaze up to Benjamin’s.
“Merry Christmas. A little early, but with lots of love nonetheless.” I hand over the basket, which Benjamin accepts with a bow. “Apparently Ohio also likes their barbecue. There are a few different rubs inside for you to try. And make sure you don’t drink the loaded apple cider all in one sitting. Or you know Mom will have a cow.”
