Do Not Disturb

by Carsen Taite

  “Now to our reporter in the field with a human interest story. Nancy?”

  “Thanks, Stan. I’m standing outside the Tinsley Hotel, where picketers have been keeping a nonstop vigil mourning the death of Macy Rivers. We have yet to spot Greer Davis, who is probably the only person who knows what really happened to Ms. Rivers, but since she is scheduled to appear on The View tomorrow morning, we expect to see her exit the hotel at some point.”

  Ethan put one hand over Greer’s eyes and the other over her ears. “Don’t listen.”

  She brushed his hands away. “Did you hear that? I’m screwed. Not only can I not board a flight looking like this, I’m going to get mobbed in New York.”

  “So don’t go.” Ethan reduced the problem to the lowest common denominator.

  “I have to go.”

  “No. You. Don’t.” Ethan shook her shoulders. “Honey, you are Greer Davis, successful superstar. You’re rich, you’re beautiful. You’re like a superhero except you need a plane to fly. Don’t go to New York. Give this thing time to settle down. Then you can face your public again.”

  Thoughts raced through Greer’s head too fast for her to process. Rick would kill her if she didn’t show up. Where would she go if she didn’t go to New York? She couldn’t exactly take up residence in the back room of a Greek Town diner. The food was good, though. Focus, Greer, focus.

  Ethan, obviously having the same thought, snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would it be?”

  Greer rolled the question around in her head till it fell into the right slot. Home. She wanted to go home. She didn’t really have a home anymore. She had four houses, but she spent so little time at any of them, none of them felt like home. Only one place would ever truly be home, even if she didn’t own a house there. She hadn’t been there in a long time, but she knew deep down that the length of her absence wouldn’t lessen the welcome she’d receive.

  “The ranch.”

  “Then the ranch is where you are going to go.” Ethan pulled out a cell phone and punched in a number. “Yes, I’m trying to reach Brad Johnson.”

  “Who’s Brad?” Greer mouthed.

  Ethan motioned for her to be quiet and whispered into the phone. After a few mysterious minutes, he clicked the phone shut. “Alrighty then. You are booked on an eleven a.m. flight to Albuquerque out of O’Hare. We need to get you to the airline offices right now so they can process your special permit to bypass general security. For the day, you are an employee of the airlines, which will keep you sheltered from the crowds at the airport.” In response to Greer’s questioning look, he added “Brad’s a friend. A close friend.”

  He swept up his cosmetics into his bag and started for the office door. “Chop, chop. We have to get going.”

  “I have to call Rick and let him know what I’m doing.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  “But, Ethan…”

  “No buts. Let’s go.” Ethan pushed Greer back to the front of the diner and past the large man, tossing out good-byes for both of them. “Thanks for the use of the space. We have to be going.”

  Greer stopped suddenly. “Ethan, I still haven’t paid for breakfast.”

  The man who had followed them to the door leaned close to Greer. His large head bobbed near hers and she started to shake. Was he crazy too? Was she going to have to make a break for it? With her luck, she would probably be arrested for refusing to pay for her meal when all she was trying to do was save her own hide. Her frantic thoughts almost blocked out his words.

  “No charge for you, Miss Davis.”

  Chapter Four

  Ainsley was surprised to see another passenger already in the aisle seat. She would’ve sworn she was the first one on board. She liked to board first, settle into her first-class window seat and avoid having her personal space invaded by clumsy tourists with snotty-nosed children. She stood in the aisle and waited a few seconds before clearing her throat. Once she did, the woman in 3B jerked upright as if she’d been shot.

  “Pardon me,” Ainsley said. “I’m in 3A.” It seemed like forever before 3B’s puzzled expression faded into understanding.

  “I’m sorry. Here, let me get out into the aisle so you can get by.” She stood hastily and almost fell into Ainsley. As she pulled back to regain her balance, their eyes met. Ainsley was struck by the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. They were an interesting earthy shade and very striking. Her voice too was unique. Sultry tones, low and smooth. Ainsley took a moment to survey everything about the woman standing almost on her feet. She was tall, trim, obviously fit. She was dressed casually in jeans and a royal blue Cubs sweatshirt, which looked very comfortable in contrast with Ainsley’s charcoal gray silk suit. The only off-putting feature was her fiery red hair. Ainsley had never favored redheads. Not after a too-long weekend spent with the McFadden twins. She hated to stereotype, but if other redheads had half the tempers of those gals, she didn’t even want to know about it and didn’t want to get involved. She’d spent too much time refereeing without enough personal fouls to make it worth the effort. No, Ainsley preferred the familiar West Coast staple, the blue-eyed blonde. She knew it was clichéd, but she didn’t care. After spending the last five years working in Middle America, who could blame her for wanting to snuggle up to a beach body with hair the color of sunrays and eyes the color of ocean waves?

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  Ainsley shook away her musings. A line of passengers was threatening to mow her down. Those sultry tones were going to get her into trouble. She stowed her carry-on and slid into her window seat. She spent the next few minutes intently inspecting the runway in an effort to shake the trance of her siren seatmate. It didn’t work. She found herself sneaking glances under the guise of making sure her seat back was in the upright position. Yep, 3B was a knockout.

  *

  Oh my God, oh my God. Greer could tell 3A was stealing looks at her. She wondered if her disguise was working. After the jolt of electricity she experienced at their brief touch, she almost didn’t care. 3A was tall, leggy, and gorgeous. Her sharp features were made prominent because her luscious caramel-colored hair was pulled into a tight braid. On some the look would be severe, but on her it was positively regal. She was tall and not just because of the three-inch slingbacks she was sporting. From where Greer sat, 3A was all leg, and Greer was willing to bet she booked in first class for the extra room. But the most impressive thing about her was her eyes. Hooded baby blues. Not what she’d expect with her light brown hair. Idly wondering if 3A colored her hair, Greer chided herself. She would probably need to color her own if she was going to go out in public again any time soon. This wig thing wasn’t going to work for long. She could already feel it slipping like a bad toupee. Bless Ethan’s heart. He hadn’t had much time to work with his uncooperative subject. Maybe she could get her aunt to help once she got to the ranch.

  Even as she had the thought, she hoped someone would be there. She hadn’t called ahead. There hadn’t been time. She didn’t even know how she’d get to the house, since it was a ninety-minute drive from the airport. She didn’t want to go through the pain of trying to rent a car with a mismatched ID. Assuming a new identity wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Where was the back-room document forger ready to provide her with any documents she needed if the price was right? How does anyone even find those people, anyway? Damn. She should have taken the time to call Rick so he could arrange things. Greer was rambling and she knew it. A sure sign her life was spinning out of control. The only saving grace was the rambling was internal. 3A would think she had lost her mind if she could hear Greer’s internal fussing.

  “Ainsley Faraday. Nice to meet you.”

  Greer nearly fell out of her seat. She couldn’t muster up enough composure to do anything other than stare at the hand 3A extended her way. Her mind was flooded with Ethan’s voice: The minute you get on the plane, put these earphones on and open this book
to the middle and start reading as if your life depended on it. He had handed her the props, purchased on the airport concourse, and given her a stern look. Don’t talk to anyone. Well, where was Ethan now, when his advice was worthless? He hadn’t prepared her for the friendly seatmate who also happened to be gorgeous. Greer felt the seconds painfully tick away and she finally forced herself to speak.

  “Hi. Nice to meet you too.” Excellent, she thought. She had spoken, out loud even, and bought herself another second or two to come up with a name. Picking a name shouldn’t be hard. She should just pick something. Anything. The more she focused on the task, the harder it became.

  “And what should I call you?”

  Ainsley was relentless. Name. Name. Name. Greer closed her eyes for a second and vowed she would be inspired by the first thing she saw the moment she opened her eyes. Her eyelids sprang wide and she stared straight ahead. Tray table. Safety Card. Shit. Greer gathered the scattered pieces of her self-confidence and spoke. “Tray, Tray Card…on. Cardon. Tray Cardon.” She thrust out a hand and tried not to wince.

  “Tray. Interesting name.”

  “It’s a family name.”

  “Do you have a large family?”

  Greer couldn’t believe her mixed luck. When she boarded, all she wanted to do was get through the flight without making any waves. But here she was seated next to a ravishing beauty, and she wanted to know more about her. Greer was at a loss, but she couldn’t resist the magnetic pull of Ainsley Faraday. Should she stick with facts or invent an entire persona? She could almost hear Ethan whispering into her ear: “Keep it simple. Stick with the truth as much as possible.”

  “No. I’m an only child. But I’m very close to my aunt and uncle, and they have a daughter. She’s my cousin.” Greer winced, but carried on. “So I’ve always felt like I had a bigger family than I really did.” Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Greer knew she was sharing too much information. Toss it back, she told herself. “How about you?”

  “No. I have one sister and we’re not close. Both my parents were only children, so no cousins. Are you close to your cousin?”

  Greer realized with every answer she gave she was digging a deeper hole. By sharing personal facts, she was doomed to continued conversation. She searched her mind for a logical way out, but could see nothing. Ethan, where are you?

  Suddenly, she thought of something. A way to shut 3A up without saying something rude. It had to work.

  Greer leaned toward the window seat and pulled 3A—Ainsley something—as close as the molded plastic of the armrest would allow and planted a kiss right on her lips.

  *

  The kiss took Ainsley completely by surprise, but she recovered quickly so as not to waste it. Her lips parted and coaxed 3B’s tongue into her waiting mouth. Oh. Yeah. All the doubts she’d developed after hearing her seatmate’s ramblings were burned away by the blistering heat of their touch. Tray’s lips were soft, but she pressed hard, and Ainsley moaned at the impact. She felt a powerful surge between her legs and stretched her bare muscular calf against the rough fabric covering Tray’s thigh. Dizzy waves made her forget everything. The work in her briefcase, the arduous job ahead, the hundred other people surrounding her in the plane.

  The presence of others came into crystal focus with a few simple words: “Would you like something to drink before we take off, Ms. Faraday?”

  Ainsley reluctantly tore her attention and her lips away from Tray. It took a moment to focus. When she did, she couldn’t help but notice the smirk of the dapper young first-class flight attendant. She shot a look at Tray and answered confidently. “Thanks. Champagne.” He smiled and turned his attention to Tray. “And for you, Ms. Johnson?”

  Ainsley heard Tray let out a pent up breath. “No, I mean, yes. Champagne is good. Thanks.” Ainsley smiled to herself. Had their tiny encounter thrown Tray off? No, wait a minute. That wasn’t it. Ainsley struggled to focus. Johnson, Johnson. Tray’s last name wasn’t Johnson. She confronted her. “I thought you’re last name was something else, Card something.”

  Tray delivered a quick response. “Johnson is my middle name. They must be interchanged on the flight manifest.” Greer cursed inwardly. She had forgotten Ethan’s friend, Brad, had donated his last name to her as a cloaking device.

  Ainsley nodded, ostensibly accepting the answer even though she knew it was a lie. Classic signs. Tray hadn’t made eye contact, and her tone of voice changed from sultry to a whine. If they were old friends, Ainsley would have called her on it. But they weren’t. They were strangers. Strangers bound together by geographic circumstance for the next few hours. Strangers desperately attracted to each other. Ainsley concentrated on slowing the pulse of her heart. As drawn as she was to the pull of Tray’s sexual magnetism, she had no intention of joining the mile-high club. Ainsley might be a playgirl, but she wasn’t a slut. Besides, she wasn’t known for quiet sexual encounters. She was pretty sure the walls of any private space in the plane were paper thin.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the reappearance of the smirky flight attendant. “Your champagne, ladies.” He handed them each a fluted glass and asked if they needed blankets or pillows, this last delivered with a special smile. When he finally left, Ainsley decided to derail the physical with mundane conversation.

  “Are you headed to Albuquerque for work or pleasure?” The minute she asked the question, she could see Tray’s face morph from control to blankness. These weren’t particularly hard questions, but something was making them difficult to answer. Ainsley wondered what the something was. She wasn’t going to find out any time soon. Tray merely mumbled something unintelligible, picked up a big fat book, and pretended to read as if her life depended on it.

  *

  Greer woke to the sound of the flight attendant announcing connecting gate information. She was positive she had dried drool on her chin and she cast a look at Ainsley while wiping her face. Ainsley was reading a magazine and she had no drool. She looked as perfect as the first moment Greer had seen her. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect dress. Greer decided all the perfection meant she was tightly wound. She is so not my type. Except for the fact she’s a fantastic kisser. Greer stifled a yawn and straightened her seat.

  “Nice nap?”

  “Not long enough. I suppose we’re about to land?”

  “It appears so.”

  Greer pointed to the window. “Would you mind opening the window shade? We might be able to see the Sandias.”

  Ainsley gave her a puzzled look, but did as she was asked and went back to reading her magazine. Greer poked her in the arm. “Hey, there they are. Aren’t they beautiful?”

  Ainsley looked slightly annoyed at being poked, but she glanced out the window. Greer enjoyed watching the expression on her face go from mild disinterest to genuine awe. The Sandia Mountains were indeed a beautiful and majestic sight. “Wow.”

  Greer laughed. “‘Wow’ was the only word I could get out the first time I saw the mountains. Course, I was a kid then and my vocabulary was much more limited.”

  “So you grew up here?”

  Greer bit her tongue. Literally. After a full moment of internal castigation, she found words. “I have family in the area and I spent a lot of time with them.”

  “Are you headed to visit them now?”

  “Yes.” Greer figured it was a harmless answer and short too. Don’t ask anything else, she willed. Then she came upon a brilliant idea. Ask Ainsley questions. Take the focus off herself. Here the plane was landing and she had finally figured out how to control the situation. “Where are you headed?”

  “Santa Fe.”

  “Business or pleasure?”

  Ainsley paused before answering. Greer wondered why. It was a pretty easy question. She found it somewhat comforting she wasn’t the only one who had trouble with the easy ones.

  “Perhaps a little of both.” Ainsley’s tone was suggestive, and Greer blushed. She willed herself not to respond. No way could she get involved wi
th someone while she was in hiding. Talk about complicated. Besides, she had no intention of keeping this red wig on her head much longer. She planned to hole up at Aunt Ellen’s and hide till the press died down. Then she would get back to work. She was scheduled to start a world tour in six weeks. Greer was so distracted by the thought of returning to the real world that she allowed a crucial error to occur. Ainsley asked another question.

  “Where does your family live? Are they picking you up at the airport?”

  Greer knew the answer to both questions, but Ainsley raised the issue she had been troubled by since she boarded the plane. How was she going to get to her aunt’s place? The shuttle only ran to Santa Fe, and hiring a cab was out of the question after her Chicago cabbie nightmare. No way could she fake her way into renting a car. She supposed she could call one of her cousins and hope they could make the run down to Albuquerque to pick her up on short notice. Quit worrying, she told herself, and answer the lady before she begins to think you are both rude and crazy.

  “Um. I will probably—”

  “Because I have to rent a car and I could give you a lift.”

  Greer winced. Not a good idea. Terrible idea. No way should she get into a car with a gorgeous stranger to whom she was hopelessly attracted. Not a chance.

  “Thanks. A ride would be great.” She heard herself say the words, and while she knew accepting a ride from Ainsley was a mistake, she couldn’t help but be excited by where the ride might take her.

  Chapter Five

  “I appreciate the help navigating,” Ainsley said. “This is my first time in New Mexico.” Tray murmured an unintelligible reply, and Ainsley wondered what had possessed her to offer her a ride. She had barely said a word since they had left the plane, and they were almost to the exit for Santa Fe. Tray was as jittery as a bank robber on her first heist. Ainsley’s thoughts kept wandering back to Tray’s evasiveness in response to questions about her personal life and her weirdness about offering up her name. Something was going on with her, but damned if Ainsley could figure it out. Tray’s motivation for hedging on the truth was a mystery, but Ainsley was more concerned with finding a solution to the mysterious attraction she experienced in Tray’s presence. And it was a mystery. Tray wasn’t her usual type. Ainsley shrugged. She knew attraction had been her primary motivation for offering a ride. She didn’t have much time before they reached the end of their journey, so she decided to quit trying to figure out anything about Tray other than how to get her in bed.