My eyes search his.
Time seemingly stands still . . . I don’t understand. I look back at the pristine limousine and then back to him.
What do you mean . . . that’s our car?
“Babe, we have to go. We have a plane to catch. Let’s just . . .” He gestures to the limousine and the driver waiting by the open trunk. “We can talk about it on the way.”
I stare at him, shocked to my core.
“Grumps.” He kisses my lips quickly. “It changes nothing. Relax.” He carries my backpack down to the car. “Hello,” he says to the driver before passing the backpack and coming back for his. “Get into the car, sweetheart.”
How can he say this changes nothing? This changes every single thing.
“Babe.” He points to the car as if reminding me. “Get in.”
It’s then that I realize what’s going on here. I’m being railroaded. He’s purposely withheld this information until two minutes before the car turned up so that I wouldn’t have time to get upset.
He opens the car door and smiles warmly. “Come on,” he mouths.
My eyes flick to the driver, and he smiles warmly. Feeling stupid and not wanting to cause a scene, I get into the back of the limousine.
Christopher slides in beside me and pulls my face to his and kisses me softly. “Off we go.” He smiles happily as he takes my hand in his lap.
The car pulls out from the curb and drives down the street, and I stare out the window as people watch us drive by.
I have no words.
To break the awkward silence between us, Christopher chats away to the driver, like, he’s overly chatty, and I know what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to talk about this with me until we’re safely on the plane.
He picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. “I love you,” he mouths. “What a great trip. That was the best time of my life. I’m going to miss those guys.” He happily chats away. “We should try and catch up with everyone at least once a year.”
Distracted, I nod and fake a smile as my attention turns back out the window.
Why would he lie to me?
An hour later we drive through a boom gate and out onto the tarmac, and I frown. Where are we going?
If I was talking to Christopher, I would ask. However, I’m choosing to remain silent.
Because if I open my mouth, I’m not quite sure what’s going to come out. I need to process this before I blurt out something nasty that I’ll regret.
Because believe me, there’s a whole lot of fucking nasty going on in my mind right now.
The car pulls up beside a plane, and I peer out. It looks all swanky, like a Learjet or something. The driver gets out and opens the trunk, and I glance over to Christopher. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Our plane.”
“You have a plane?”
“Yes.” He nods. His brow furrows as if he’s stopping himself from saying something.
He has a fucking plane?
I blink in surprise as I look out at it. “Is it safe?”
“Yes, of course.” He smiles and puts his arm around me and kisses my temple. “I would never risk you.”
But you would lie to me.
The driver opens my car door, and I smile up at him. He’s kind looking. “Thank you.”
Christopher gets out and smiles. “Thank you.” He holds out his hand and discreetly passes him some notes as a tip.
I blink again. This is like The Twilight Zone.
Christopher takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. Two stewardesses and a captain in full uniform stand inside the door. “Good evening, Mr. Miles.” The captain nods.
“Thomas.” Christopher laughs. “Good to see you, my old friend.” He shakes his hand excitedly.
“It’s been a long time, sir.”
“It has, it has.” Christopher looks around. “Where are the normal crew?”
“This is Angela and Michelle. Our other girls are both on maternity leave.”
“Babies, ha! Great.” Christopher smiles. He shakes the two women’s hands. “Nice to meet you. This is Hayden.” He presents me proudly.
“Hello.” I smile as I shake their hands.
“Lovely to meet you, Hayden.”
They seem nice.
“This way, babe.” Christopher holds his arm up, and I look around. White leather seats, plush carpet, and the most exotic-looking cabin of a plane that I’ve ever seen. It looks like something out of a movie, only I haven’t seen it in a movie because it’s too swanky. He takes my hand and leads me up the cabin. “Where do you want to sit?” he asks.
Don’t insult my intelligence and pretend that I have any control of this situation . . . it’s quite obvious I don’t.
I shrug. “Anywhere will do.”
He gestures to a double seat at the back, and I fall in beside the window. The engine starts, and I stare out at the limo as it drives off across the tarmac.
I glance down at myself in embarrassment. I’m wearing shorts and a T-shirt, feeling completely underdressed and inappropriate. I drag my hand through my messy ponytail. God . . . what must I look like? I did wonder why he was dressed up today in jeans and a button-up shirt.
Now I know.
Christopher fusses around and then sits down beside me. He leans over and does up my seat belt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He smiles as he kisses me.
The stewardesses are hovering around.
I nod with another fake smile. I don’t want a scene with anyone in earshot, and I’m still trying to calm myself down enough to think straight.
This is a lot.
The plane pulls out and drives around for a while. Christopher chatters on and makes small talk, overcompensating for my silence.
He knows.
We take off into the air, and he slides his hand onto my thigh. “You all right, babe? You’re very quiet,” he whispers.
I smile and nod. I’m not. It’s a lie.
“Can I get you anything?” the hostess asks me.
“Um . . .” I think for a moment. “Can I have a lemonade, please?”
“Of course.” She smiles and then turns to Christopher. “What would you like, Mr. Miles?”
He rolls his lips as he thinks for a moment. “I’ll have a Blue Label scotch and beluga caviar, please.” His eyes flick over to me. “Do you want something to eat, darling?”
I stare at him for a moment as I process his order.
Blue Label scotch and beluga caviar.
Since when has he liked those things? I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
The stewardess smiles warmly. “Yes, sir.”
She disappears out to the kitchen, and I watch as Christopher puts his head back against the seat as if starting to relax.
I don’t know him at all.
Nine hours later
The plane pulls to a stop on the tarmac, and I read the sign out the window.
WELCOME TO NEW YORK
Christopher bounces his leg as he sits beside me, impatient to get off the plane. He knows I’m off. I pretended to sleep the entire nine-hour trip so that I wouldn’t have to talk to him. Mainly . . . because I don’t know what the fuck to say.
He had a few glasses of scotch, ate caviar, and then watched a few movies, all with his hand protectively on my leg.
“You may disembark, Mr. Miles,” the captain says over the speaker.
Christopher stands and gets my handbag out from the overhead and fusses around. He takes my hand and leads me out.
“Thank you.” He shakes everyone’s hands as they line up by the door.
“Have a nice night.” The captain smiles. “Goodbye, Hayden. Lovely to meet you.”
“See you next time.”
I smile, detached from the situation. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience right now. Like I’m physically here . . . but I’m so shocked that I’m not.
He lied to me. For twelve months I have been falling in love with a man who doesn’t even exist.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so betrayed.
We walk out to the stairs, and I look down to see another limousine waiting on the tarmac. The driver is in a black suit and standing beside the car. He looks up and waves, and Christopher laughs and waves excitedly back. He nearly runs us down the stairs to get to him. “Hello, Hans.” He laughs as he pulls the driver in for a hug.
“Hello, Mr. Miles.” The man laughs, seemingly just as excited to see him too.
Christopher puts his arm around me. “This is my Hayden.” He smiles proudly.
“Hello,” Hans says as he shakes my hand.
“Hello.” I smile. Oh, he’s a nice old man, I can tell.
They throw our things in the trunk, and we get into the back seat. Christopher leans over and kisses my temple as he puts his arm around me. “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks.
I stare straight ahead as I hold my tongue.
Not really.