Page 64 of Pretty Please Me
Trent
Looking forward to it. See you very soon, Maggie.
“What do you mean I’m traveling all week? And whose boobs did you send him?”
Sam sets my omelet down in front of me and refills my water. He props himself up on his elbows, hands collapsed as he leans in. “My bathroom guy called me this morning and said he needed to shut off all the water for a few days to finish the renovations, and the whole place would be a mess with construction crews coming in and out… so I took the liberty of extending our trip to the beach.” He stands up and adjusts his tie. “I figured we could use a little vacation anyway.”
“But, I can’t just leave. I’ve got the studio renovations to worry about, and it’s going to be bad enough–”
Sam holds up his hand. “I already talked to Joey this morning, and he said the studio is coming along nicely. They’re expecting to wrap up the job in two weeks. You should be all set to come home to a renovated studio and apartment after the reunion.”
“But I–” I start to argue, but I see the muscle in Sam’s jaw begin to flex, and my words trail off.
He moves behind me, shifting my hair off my neck to one side, and trails his fingers along my exposed skin as he whispers, “Let me spoil you a little longer. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself, and you need a break from worrying about everything here.”
I suck in a breath at his tender touch. How am I ever supposed to argue with that kind of logic? Besides, he’s using his hands, playing my body like an instrument only he knows how to play. It’s not fair.
“Fine, I’ll let you take me away, but only because I haven’t seen the ocean in over a decade,” I huff.
His eyes sparkle with mischief, and he traces my jaw with his thumb. “Good girl. Pack a bag. We’re leaving at five o’clock sharp.”
“Wait, we’re leaving today?” My eyes fly open, and I start to protest, but Sam just nods and kisses me on the forehead.
“I’ll send a car to get you. I’m meeting you at the airport after work. Oh, and I’ve arranged for my masseuse and her team to come by and give you a full day of pampering. Have a good day, Magnolia. I’ll see you this evening.” He grabs his keys and coat, and then he’s gone.
I guess I better get a move on… It looks like I’ve got a full day ahead.
* * *
When Sam said he was meeting me at the airport, I assumed he meant arealairport, not a tiny hangar in the middle of the country.
The car pulls up to a small airplane, and I catch sight of Sam talking to the pilot outside. The driver comes around and opens my door, and Sam comes over, pulling me into a hug. “You smell delicious. How was your spa day, Ms. Anderson?”
I laugh and swat him on the chest. “You didn’t have to book me the royal treatment! I’ve been scrubbed, rubbed, and waxed everywhere. I think every surface of my skin has been polished. I should be glowing or something.”
“You’re welcome.” He winks. “I hope you know you didn’t have to wax anything for me.” He pushes a stray hair behind my ear, and I blush.
“I wanted to. Besides, I’m going to the beach. When in Rome, right?”
“That could be arranged.” He links my arm with his and leads me up the stairs of the small airplane. There’s enough seating for about eight passengers, but it looks like we’ll be the only ones flying, except for the pilot and the flight attendant.
“Welcome aboard. May I take your coats?” the flight attendant asks as we sit in two comfortable leather seats facing each other with a small table between us. After Sam passes her our coats and thanks her, he reaches over to buckle my seatbelt, pulling the strap taut across my hips.
“Sam, this is too much. I hope you know you don’t have to do all of this for me. I’d be fine flying on a commercial flight like a regular person.”
“Well, Magnolia, I don’t much consider you to be a regular person. As I said this morning, let me spoil you while I can.” He leans in, and whispers, “or I can have fun thinking of more ways to torture you… It’s your choice.”
I make a show of snapping my lips shut, but when I look outside the window as the plane takes off, I can’t help but smile. If Sam’s plan is to ruin me for all normal men, then I’m afraid it may be working. A girl could get used to all this pampering.
His hand finds my knee underneath the table, and he rubs my leg in soft, slow strokes as we watch the ground beneath drift farther and farther away.
“Champagne?” the flight attendant asks once we reach altitude.
“We’ll have two ginger ales, please,” Sam says as he looks up from his phone.
“Hey, maybe I wanted a glass of champagne for my first and probably only private plane ride.”
He slides his phone into his pocket and pins me with a stare. “I was negligent with you last night, and I won’t do it again. You need to let your body recover today, and that means no alcohol.” He pulls my hands into his and turns them over, examining my wrists.
