Her Secret

by Bloom, Penelope

  William handed us both a pair of big headphones with microphones and gestured for us to put them on. Violet’s wasn’t adjusted right for her small head, and after she fumbled with the straps for a few seconds, William reached over and yanked them into place for her.

  Even the small, innocent act of fitting her headset made me want to punch him in the throat. Then again, I usually wanted to punch William Chamberson in the throat to get him to shut up, so it probably wasn’t jealousy-induced violence.

  The headset muffled the noise of the helicopter to a distant hum. We sat down on a bench-style seat facing the cockpit, which was slightly walled off from us by an open doorway. I made sure Violet strapped herself in properly before getting myself situated, partly because I didn’t want William to think he needed to do it. I knew he was happily married, and I knew he wouldn’t mean anything by it, but I didn’t want to see it, either way.

  “Do you copy, Tango Bravo?” William asked. His voice came blaring into my ears with a slight mechanical distortion.

  “Copy,” Violet said. She was enjoying this, and I grudgingly let myself smirk a little with her.

  “Copy that,” Grammy screeched into the headset. “My dark star is clenched and ready for takeoff.”

  I took a deep, calming breath while William burst out laughing. Violet looked confused, which meant she was innocent enough to think Grammy couldn’t possibly be talking about what it sounded like.

  “Jesus Christ,” William said once he’d stopped laughing. “I think you missed your calling, Grams. You could’ve worked in the poison control center. If someone needed to induce vomiting, you could just talk about your ‘dark star’ again.” William laughed again, and then his face went serious for a few seconds as it looked like he might really be sick.

  “Is there any way to turn your volume down?” I asked. “My ears are ringing.”

  “No,” William said. “Well, there is. But I won’t allow you to turn down your captain’s volume.” He patted his chest and then ducked into the hallway to take a seat in the cockpit. “Now… Ah, shit. My sticky note on take-offs must’ve blown away during the landing. Was it the yellow button, or the red one?”

  “If you’re joking,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re not making me laugh.”

  “What does make you laugh, Peter?” William asked in a bored voice. “Getting an unexpected tax exemption? Realizing your favorite tie is ready at the cleaner’s a day early?”

  “Still not funny,” I said.

  Violet, on the other hand, was holding back laughter.

  William pushed a button and the engine made a concerning, grinding noise. “Whoops!” He said cheerily. “Not that one.”

  “William…” I warned.

  I couldn’t see it, but I could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “Okay, Dad. Please make sure your seats are in the upright position. Please do not smoke. Vaping is fine, if that’s your thing. Although I wouldn't advise it, because vapes still have nicotine in them, so you’re developing a nasty habit anyway. And nobody thinks you’re cool when you do smoke tricks.”

  “We’re not vaping,” I said. “Just fly the damn helicopter.”

  “Up we go!” William yanked back on a joystick and we lurched violently into the air.

  I felt my stomach sink. Below us, I could see the strip of businesses shrink until they looked like pieces on a board game. It didn’t really matter how many times I rode on a helicopter, it was always a little surreal to watch the world shrink beneath you. Knowing my pilots were of questionable mental integrity added a layer of terror to the experience, too.

  “Aren’t you supposed to close these doors?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” William said. “It seems to fly fine when they’re open, and they always leave them open in movies. Imagine if we got shot down or something. Wouldn’t you want a quick escape route?”

  “Considering you didn’t give us parachutes. No. I’d rather not jump out the window of a helicopter while we’re flying.”

  “They say your body bounces,” Grammy said. “If you fall from really high, that is. No messy splattering into a puddle. Just a kind of ragdoll bounce a few feet into the air.”

  “Every action has an equal and opposite reaction,” William agreed. “The ground is going to push you back if you come down on it that fast.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” I asked. “Or better yet, can we just not talk at all?” I leaned over a little to look out the open doors of the helicopter. It was unnerving. I wasn’t exactly afraid of flying or heights, but I had a healthy dose of respect for the fact that the only thing keeping me alive was William’s questionable ability to pilot the helicopter, and whatever equally questionable effort he put into maintaining this thing.

  Violet leaned over and narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you scared of flying?” The tone in her voice was almost one of disbelief.

  “No. I’m scared of him,” I said, pointing to William.

  He looked back at me and had the nerve to cackle before swaying the stick side to side, which made the helicopter lurch dangerously.

  “All jokes aside,” Violet said. “I’d rather not die today, if it’s all the same to you, William.”

  “No promises. I should warn you, I’ve always said I’d rather go down in a ball of flames than in a cloud of dust.”

  “What the hell does that even mean?” I asked.

  “That’ll just be something for you to ponder, won’t it?” he said.

  I suddenly wished I knew how to shut off William’s microphone. If nothing else, he was actually making me wish I could talk to Violet alone, which wasn’t something I would’ve expected to desire when I woke up this morning.

  “I don’t want to sound rude,” Violet said. “But is the woman sitting beside you like your co-pilot? Or just a friend?”

  “I’m his grandma-in-law, and I don’t know shit about flying helicopters. I could probably crash one, though.”

  William looked over to Grams. “You want to give it a try?”

  “Hell, yes,” Grams said.

  Violet and I only had a moment to exchange a wide-eyed look before Grams was behind the joystick. Her first move was to yank the stick to the side. Violet went slamming into my shoulder and my head collided with the edge of the still-open door.

  I put my hand to my temple and watched as William reached over to straighten the helicopter back out as he laughed. For some reason, I was having trouble keeping my head up. I blinked a few times, wondering why my vision was swimming, and then everything went black.

  11

  Violet

  I’d called ahead to the hotel after Peter got knocked out. It was almost funny, but I still felt more pissed that William and Grams were irresponsible enough to let something like that happen. Peter might have deserved a kick in the balls, but seeing him slumped over in his seat from an impact to the head didn’t give me any satisfaction. I just felt worried about him.

  William handled getting us to Peter’s room, though his version of “handling” it was telling anyone who’d listen that he was a billionaire and he tipped like one. By the time we made it from the helipad to the elevator, we already had a small army of staff following after us and making sure we had what we needed.

  William and two hotel employees had to help lug Peter to his room, where an EMT came to check on him, just to be safe. I managed the stairs just fine without Peter letting me lean against him, but I admittedly missed the attention after spending most of the day getting used to it. Besides, I was still freezing from the open-door helicopter ride, and I could’ve used some of his freakish body heat.

  The EMT stood up from beside Peter, who was laid on the bed in his room, and shrugged. “His vitals are all normal. He may have a headache when he wakes up, and he’ll want to get checked for a concussion. Tonight if he can.”

  “Is he going to be okay?

  “Statistically speaking, he should be. But he should get checked anyway, just to be safe.�
��

  I thanked the EMT while she finished packing up her equipment. Once she was gone, I was left with Grammy, William, and an unconscious Peter once the EMT had left.

  “What a dork,” William said. “Was he that scared of flying?”

  “At least he’s cute,” Grammy said. “If I was fifty years younger, I’d be willing to stay grounded for a piece of man like that.”

  I cleared my throat. “He didn’t pass out from fear. He passed out from the part when you jerked the helicopter to the side and slammed his head into the door.”

  “Details,” Grammy said in a bored tone. “And you sound pretty protective of that sexy bag of meat. Did you already call dibs?”

  “No. No,” I said again, more firmly. “He’s my boss. And he’s—just, no.”

  Grammy was grinning. “I don’t know what it is with young people. It’s like you all think the right person is going to come served up to you on a silver platter. No, honey. I’ll tell you what my grandma told me when I was a kid. If you want the best berries, you’ve got to get off the beaten trail where everybody else is afraid to forage. And if you want the best dick, you’ve got to be willing to—”

  “Wait,” William said. “Are you seriously so old that your grandma foraged for berries to survive?” He burst out laughing.

  “I’m old enough to know when I’ve made a mistake, like convincing my poor Hailey to marry you and your dumb ass.”

  William snorted. “Is that how you think it happened? You convinced her?” William straightened his tie and made a serious face that admittedly highlighted just how attractive he was. “Did it occur to you that I might be hiding some charm in my back pocket? That maybe I could win over the woman I wanted on my own?”

  “No,” Grammy said dryly. “You’re a boob.”

  “Then you must love boobs, because you practically begged to come with me on my little trip.”

  “I do enjoy boobs, just not the one you have masquerading for a brain. And I told you I only wanted to come because I had business.”

  William scoffed. “The only business you have is frequent trips to the bathroom because your bladder looked in the mirror, thought you were dead, and retired.”

  I thought Grammy was about to put William in a choke hold, but she threw her head back and laughed. “You little shit.”

  I breathed out, not realizing I’d been holding my breath. Judging by the looks on their faces, it was completely normal for them to rip each other shreds and then laugh it off. What a relationship.

  “Are you two staying here?” I asked.

  “I’ve got a wife to seduce,” William said. “And she’s very easily seduced,” he added in Grammy’s direction.

  “Yeah, no shit. She settled for you.”

  The two of them launched into another argument on their way out of the room, leaving me alone with an unconscious boss and a mountain of questions.

  Once the sound of their argument dwindled away to silence, the reality of my situation hit me. I was undeniably attracted to Peter Barnidge. I knew that much. Just touching him, no matter how innocently, stirred up a novel’s worth of dark fantasies. But none of those dark fantasies ended in him being a decent guy. He wasn’t the kind of man I’d want around Zoey. He wasn’t the kind of man I’d want to settle down with and live my life with. He’d be a fling, and a fling wasn’t what I needed in my life. I needed stability and someone who would help me make the best future possible for my daughter.

  My daughter he still didn’t know about. Thinking of Zoey made me miss her little smile even more. This was already the longest I’d been away from her since she was born, and if my mom hadn’t texted to tell me she was having a blast when I was still on the bus, I would’ve been more worried. I tried to tell myself this was good for both of us. It would build character, or something.

  I ran my hands through my hair and turned in a slow circle, really taking in the room for the first time since we’d dragged Peter in here. It was the penthouse suite with sweeping views of Annapolis all around us. I’d seen places like this on movies, but watching it on screen failed to capture how incredible it was to actually be in a space like this. It felt like I should have a chaperone to be around so much wealth. I guessed the furnishings alone cost more than I’d make in years, even with my fancy new salary.

  When it was clear that Peter planned to sleep—without snoring this time, thank God—I unpacked some clean clothes and took a shower. An entire wall of the bathroom was just a huge window that looked out over the city. Once I convinced myself that nobody would be sitting around with a pair of binoculars, I decided to enjoy the view. I also enjoyed the provided soaps and shampoos, which smelled and felt expensive. The only damper on the moment was having to hold one of my legs out of the shower to avoid getting the boot wet.

  When I was done, I found a ridiculously comfy looking white cotton robe hanging in the bathroom closet by the towels. I slid my underwear on first, and then wrapped myself in the robe.

  I hadn’t even had a chance to dry my hair when I heard a loud exclamation of “What the fuck?” from outside the bathroom door.

  Walking around all day, even with Peter’s assistance, had made my ankle extra sore. So I had to limp my way to the door.

  I found Peter standing up and looking around the room with wide, confused eyes.

  “Did we die?” he asked.

  I laughed. “No. You hit your head and lost consciousness.”

  He rubbed the side of his head and then noticed for the first time that I was fresh out of the shower and wearing a robe. From the look on his face, I thought he was assuming I was naked beneath it, too. His eyes roamed my body for a few seconds before he seemed to realize he was staring and averted his gaze. “Remind me to kill William later. And Grammy, while I’m at it. How long was I out?”

  I looked at the clock. “Not that long. Maybe three hours since we got off the helicopter. But the EMT said you need to get checked out at a hospital soon.”

  Peter sighed. “I feel fine. I don’t even have a headache.”

  “So? You could have internal bleeding, or something.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “My excuse for not wanting you to die is paperwork. What’s yours? I’d think you would be crossing your fingers for internal bleeding, by now.”

  “You’re not as mean as you pretend to be. And you really should see a doctor.”

  He sighed. “If I feel any symptoms of a concussion, I’ll go. Are you done in there? I could use a shower.”

  I briefly imagined what Peter must look like with his clothes off and completely froze up. I knew I was just standing there awkwardly when I should be speaking, but all I could manage to do was gesture toward the bathroom.

  He went inside and closed the door, and then I realized I’d left my clothes on the ground, including the underwear I’d been wearing. Shit. I distinctly remembered picking an unflattering pair of panties just to keep myself from getting any dumb ideas. I stood a few steps from the door, debating whether I should knock and get them out of there or just hope he wouldn’t notice or care.

  I knocked twice.

  The door swung open, and Peter was already shirtless.

  “Jesus,” I said. “How did you even get your shirt off so fast?”

  “What did you need?”

  Standing so close to him when I was only wearing a bathrobe and my underwear was bad enough, but seeing his bare, powerful torso on full display was threatening to undo me. There was something about the set of his shoulders and his collarbone that had me transfixed. I never knew a collarbone could be so alluring, from the way it dragged my eye on a delicious trail from his clavicle to those round, powerful shoulders, and—

  “My panties,” I said quickly, though with how tight my throat felt, it was more like I croaked the words out. I forced my eyes up to meet his, which admittedly wasn’t much better than ogling his body when it came to stifling the growing warmth in my lower stomach.

  He cocked an eyebrow, then turned a
nd spotted the undignified little pile of my clothes. Instead of picking them all up, he just grabbed my panties and then held them out to me with an amused look on his face. “These are, uh, a conservative choice.”

  I snatched them from him. “Thank you,” I said just before slamming the door in his obnoxiously gorgeous face.

  I walked over to the bed and face planted down into the soft material. Of course, I happened to land where Peter had been passed out. I could smell him all over the comforter, and the combination of that smell and the memory of his bare chest made me feel like I was about to lose my mind—like my vagina was currently staging a violent uprising for control of my body. Little by little, it was winning the battle, too.

  I wished I’d already been set up with my own room, even if it was in a dingy corner of the hotel. The last thing I needed right now was to be trapped in this extravagant penthouse suite that just looked like the kind of place where people had exotic, classy sex. Like the kind of sex where candles are lit and the guy’s fingers intertwine with the woman’s while he whispers sweet nothings in her ear. Maybe he feeds her chocolate covered strawberries and rubs her feet before going down on her. Or maybe they get overcome by their animal lust before the strawberries are finished and end up going to bang town against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Or maybe I was desperate and deranged. I pressed my palms to my eyes and rolled over to my back on the bed. I was losing my mind. It was penis-induced mania. Vagina-fueled, delusional fantasies. Peter Barnidge was like a biological weapon of mass seduction. It didn’t matter how off-putting he was. It didn’t matter how many times he made me want to ball my fists and scream. All he had to do was fix those stupidly sexy eyes on me. Maybe it was the fact that he made it so abundantly clear that he had no interest in me, yet there was that small, faint, almost-not-there hint of interest behind it all. Between the glares and the groans of frustration, he’d get this twinkle in his eye when he looked at me and his lips would twitch in amusement after I’d said something.