Page 63 of Remembering Passion

“Ms. Crystal, it’s nice to see you again.”

It was the same feeling as when I met Edgar at the elevators, a friendly face to calm my nerves. “Allen.” I smiled and offered my hand. “I’m glad to know I’m in safe hands.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re about ready to do our final checklist before takeoff. We should be in Ashland before nine o’clock, their time.”

As I stepped inside the plane, a woman in a uniform appeared. “Hello, Ms. Crystal. I’m Angie. May I get you anything before we take off?”

“Coffee with cream would be nice.”

I turned toward the main cabin. The seats were all empty. This plane could fly up to twelve passengers. The seats were clustered in groups of four with a coffee/alcohol/ food bar. For a moment, I stood still, holding my satchel and looking around at the white leather seats, laminate woodwork, and shiny fixtures. Memories bombarded my mind, much as when I’d entered Damien’s office. The twisting in my chest made me wonder if I could do this—be the person for Beta Kappa Phi and work intimately with Damien.

“You may sit wherever you’d like,” Angie said as she poured coffee into a ceramic mug.

Nodding, I set my satchel with my laptop and notes on a seat near the window as I sat in the one to its side, facing the front of the plane. Closing my eyes, I tried not to think about the fact Damien wasn’t present. I would be all right. I’d met Donovan Sherman. This was my job. I didn’t need him to introduce me.

I watched as the stairsteps moved upward, closing the entrance to the plane.

“I’m glad you decided to make it.”

Turning around, my breath caught in my throat. His voice and the scent of his cologne came to me simultaneously. I was wrong. I wasn’t the only passenger in this gilded plane. My gaze immediately met Damien’s. In the milliseconds that passed, I had the odd feeling that there was something off about him. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t handsome as ever in his suit. It was as if there were a cloud of discontent surrounding him.

As he came around the seat scanning me from head to toe, his blue eyes darkened, and his square jaw clenched.

“Have Johnathon bring Ms. Crystal’s luggage up here,” he said, speaking to Angie and moving to the seat across from me.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why do I need my luggage?”

My question went unanswered as the stairs were again lowered, a fresh breeze filled the cabin, and Damien sat. It was impossible not to skirt my focus from his perfectly combed hair to his custom suit and expensive shoes. The whiff of spicy cologne made my stomach do a flip-flop. “Damien,” I said, making eye contact. “I didn’t know if you’d be joining me. Johnathon was evasive. Why did you send for the suitcase?”

“I can assume you received the suitcase. Johnathon took it to you last night?”

I nodded.

“And my text?”

“You know I did. I called you and left a message.”

Damien tilted his face slowly, contemplating his next move much like the predator I knew he could be. His gaze swept over me. The ensuing silence brought a chill skittering over my flesh. His firm lips pressed together in a disapproving way as his gaze returned to my eyes. His navy eyes stayed fixed on me.

This was about the clothes.

He was making more out of the situation than there was.

Finally, Damien spoke, his words cutting through the growing tension. “You were wrong.”

I sat straight, lifting my chin to meet his stare. “What was I wrong about?”

His finger blanched as his grip tightened on the arms of his chair. Though his volume wasn’t loud, his tone and timbre left little room for debate. “Your message. I will dress you. And since you chose not to do it correctly yourself, I will do it myself, right here.” He nodded. “That is why I called for your suitcase.”

Right here?

In the cabin?

“That won’t be necessary,” I said, keeping my tone firm. “I decided that I should meet the other CEOs as myself. That means wearing my clothes.”

His lips quirked. “The clothes in the suitcase are yours, Ella. They won’t fit me.” He shook his head slowly. “And even if they did, they were purchased for you.”

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