Page 9 of In Flight

“No. Like I said, he’s all about responsibility. He’d never cheat or gamble or do anything to upend his family and household. But I don’t actually know how much of that is in his nature and how much of it she shaped him into. They got married when they were twenty. Of the two, my mom is definitely the powerhouse.”

“Well, I think that’s probably not very unusual. My mom definitely rules the roost in my family.”

“I bet your dad’s a workaholic. Isn’t he?”

“Pretty much. He’s a corporate executive. He’s king of the boardroom but definitely not king of the house. I think he’s learned to let her do what she wants for the most part so he can maintain a peaceful existence.”

“That’s why you’re always trying to fade into the background.”

“What?” My tone is sharp for the first time in several minutes.

“Because you spent your life stepping aside so you don’t take any of your mom’s spotlight. And probably your sister’s too. You developed your own gifts and talents and unique personality, but you never let yourself shine too bright with them.”

“That’s a ludicrously arrogant assumption. You don’t know me nearly well enough to claim that.” I sound defensive because I am.

He’s far more right than I want him to be.

“If you say so,” he murmurs. This whole time, he’s kept his focus on his laptop, but he’s been into our conversation. I know he has. But now his attention shifts back to his work.

With a sigh, I readjust in my seat so I can start working on my sketches again.

He really is an aggravating man.

One moment he’ll be engaging me in the most fascinating, insightful conversations I can remember. And the next it’s like he forgets I exist.

I’m not used to those kinds of swings. I’ve always lived my life on a pleasant, even keel. Nothing has been as exciting as sitting next to this man for a very long time.

If ever.

We’re silent for the remainder of the flight. As we’re taxiing to the gate, he turns his head to look at me for the first time in more than an hour. “What’s your name?”

“What? Why?”

He gives that faint, sardonic half shrug that’s evidently his trademark. “If we’re going to be seatmates for the next two months, I should have something to call you other than ‘that annoying woman.’”

I’m so surprised I burst out in giggles before I can restrain them. “And I should have something to call you other than ‘the obnoxious man.’”

“My name is Isaac. Isaac Becker.”

“Oh. I’m River Kennedy.”

His eyebrows go way up. “River Kennedy?”

“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. In fact, it fits perfectly. The contrast. It’s striking. Jarring.” He pauses, fitting his case between his feet as the plane pulls up to the gate. “Is your sister named Lake?”

“No!” I do my best to maintain a sober innocence on my face as I add, “Her name is Raven.”

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