Page 32 of The Best Wild Idea
I don’t even know if she’s started dating in the past year, or moved on entirely in other ways.
She carefully plants her hands on the armrests on either side of her body once the plane begins to even out, increasingly more parallel to the ground. Her long, slender fingers are splayed out across the soft leather trim as she clutches the edges like that seat might actually protect her if we start spiraling back down toward the earth.
I don’t know much about her now, but I do know that following my father’s death, I was not someone Jules wanted to be around. Not someone she wanted Grant to be around either. I wish I could take it all back. At the time, I’d become the very definition of an ugly, grief-stricken cliché. A party-boy orphan flung into a multi-billion-dollar empire, the exact week they got engaged. The timing of it all was the perfect storm for reckless behavior, and one I tried so hard to drag Grant into with me.
I understand why Jules pushed away from me as hard as I pushed away from her.
Seeing her now with a clearer head than I’ve had in years, I want nothing more than to be someone she allows near her again, instead of keeping me at arm’s length. I only hope she gives me the chance to show her how much I’ve changed. And if she walks away from this trip knowing nothing but that, it’ll all have been worth it.
Chapter 12
As soon as the pilot mentions we’ve reached cruising altitude, Jules makes a hasty beeline for the back of the plane where the bed is already made.
“Let me know when I need to buckle up again,” she calls back before disappearing behind the closed door.
I manage to get a bit of work done, and six hours later, after Andy has retrieved her from the plane’s only bedroom, she’s back beside me, buckling the seatbelt over her hips.
“How was your nap?” I ask. Her hair has been tied back at the nape of her neck and long tendrils spill out across her delicate collarbones. Some color has returned to her cheeks, and she looks more rested than she did all morning.
“Fine,” she answers, yawning.
“Good afternoon,” the pilot’s voice crackles over the loudspeaker. “There’s going to be some moderate turbulence as we make our descent into Bern. Please stay buckled until after we land. Attendants, that goes for you too, especially you, Andy.”
I hear a loud chuckle from the service kitchen.
“Roger that!” Andy hollers toward the cockpit, and I smile, once again, glad to have a bit of humor on the plane with us.
I glance at Jules. Her eyes are closed again.
“Wonderful,” she murmurs without stirring. “I love a good rollercoaster ride forty thousand feet up.”
“A little turbulence never hurt anyone,” I say, doing my best to sound reassuring. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“No offense, Si, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to do a damn thing if this plane decides that it doesn’t love whatever air pockets we’re coming into at five hundred miles an hour.” Apparently the long nap didn’t sweeten her mood.
We hit a pocket of air that makes the plane feel like it’s in freefall for a fraction of a second. She gasps and her handinstinctively shoots over the aisle between us. She digs her nails into my forearm. The plane dips again and she holds her breath, squeezing tighter, like her hold on me might actually save her if this thing goes down.
When the plane rights itself, she relaxes a bit.
“Sorry,” she says, loosening her grip, still keeping her eyes shut, then wraps both arms in front of her chest.
I’m reminded of how odd it is for her to be here with me — to be reaching out tomeright now instead of Grant.
Another air pocket jolts the plane down, then up.
“Oh my God,” she murmurs under her breath, grabbing onto my arm again. This time tighter than before. “Tell Gloria to calm the fuck down.”
“Ol’ Gloria is keeping us in the air, and besides, Carl is a former military pilot I recruited. He’s flown through worse while dodging combat fire. I also have a team of engineers prep the planes before every flight. You have literally nothing to worry about.” I pat her hand just as she pulls it back.
“Don’t do that,” she snaps.
“Do what?” I ask.
“That.” She points to the hand I’ve just used to pat hers. I thought it might make her feel better but clearly I got that wrong, too. “I get that Grant told you that you have to do this trip with me. I’m not totally sure why you agreed, since there’s nothing in this for you. But you don’t have to act like you care more about me now than you used to just because we’re here. I’m not one of the girls from your tabloid photos who might be impressed with all this.” She waves her hands around the jet. “So, you don’t have to try and impress me by talking about engineers and fighter pilots you found.” She settles back against her seat again. “I think you know me a little better than that. Or at least you did at one point.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. I’d like to argue back, tell her that she’s wrong but I’ll leave it at that for now. “I’m just trying to reassure you that it’s going to be fine.”
She relaxes her shoulders a fraction of an inch. “Well, I’m glad you’re on top of safety — just don’t feel like you have to flaunt it.”
