Page 38 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
Or maybe she won't care either way.
The thought settles heavily in my chest as I stand and walk toward my bedroom. I've spent years building an empire, making more money than I ever dreamed possible. I can buy almost anything I want with the snap of my fingers.
Anything except Alice’s respect.
And damn it, that's the thing I want most of all.
CHAPTER 16
ALICE
Icheck my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. The boarding gate is getting crowded as passengers line up in their assigned groups, and still no sign of Oscar. Typical. The man who owns half of our industry can't be bothered to show up on time for a commercial flight.
"Final boarding call for Flight 1429 to San Diego," the gate agent announces, voice tinny through the airport speakers.
I grip my carry-on handle tighter, scanning the terminal again. Part of me wonders if this is some kind of power play — making me wait, making me worry. The other part is genuinely concerned. Could something have happened to him?
My phone buzzes with a text, startling me out of my thoughts.
Almost there. Gate 34B, right?
I roll my eyes and type back quickly:34A. Hurry up, they're boarding final call.
I'm about to pocket my phone when I spot him, running full-tilt through the terminal, dodging slower travelers like he's in somekind of obstacle course. His normally perfectly styled black hair is slightly disheveled, and he's wearing… jeans?
Yep. Jeans and a simple blue button-down shirt, his typical suit nowhere in sight.
The sight is so unexpected that I almost miss the gate agent's final announcement.
"Last call for passengers Glynn and Mackie for Flight 1429 to San Diego."
I hold up a finger to the agent. "He's coming!"
Oscar skids to a halt in front of the gate, slightly out of breath. "Sorry, sorry," he says, fumbling with his phone to pull up his boarding pass.
"Plebeian planes don't wait," I smirk at him. “Not even for rich people."
He looks up at me, and for a split second, there's that flash of the old Oscar — the one who would have laughed and shot back something equally snarky. Instead, he just nods, all business now that he's caught his breath. "Noted for future reference."
We board the plane in silence, making our way to first class. But of course it's first class. Even slumming it on a commercial flight, Oscar isn't about to sit in economy. The flight attendant greets us with a practiced smile, directing us to our seats by the window, where Oscar lets me go first.
"What happened to you?" I ask once we're settled. "I thought punctuality would be your religion."
Oscar stows his bag in the overhead compartment before sitting down beside me. Our shoulders almost touch in the confined space, and I shift slightly toward the window.
"Traffic was terrible," he says, buckling his seatbelt. "And I… may have forgotten that you need to arrive earlier for commercial flights. Security and all that."
I can't help but laugh. "When was the last time you flew commercial? College?"
He doesn't answer immediately, which tells me I've hit the mark, or at least I’m close to it. "It's been a while," he finally admits.
"I'm surprised your assistants allowed this," I say, watching him closely. "What happened to your fancy private jet? The one with the gold-plated toilet seats?"
"It doesn't have gold-plated toilet seats," he replies dryly. "And remember? It needed maintenance. Nothing serious, just… routine checks."
"Uh huh." I raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second.
The flight attendant comes by with pre-flight drinks. Oscar requests Scotch, and I ask for sparkling water.
