Page 85 of Crazed

If only that were my reality.

He kisses the top of my head, murmuring, "Let's get out of here."

I let him guide me out of the library. He opens the door to a Land Rover. I ask, "New car?"

"Nope. It's a year old." He motions for me to get in.

I obey, inquiring, "How many vehicles do you own?"

"Five," he states, shuts the door, and rushes around the car. As soon as he's inside, he turns on the engine and pulls out. He asks, "How was your day?"

"Fine," I lie, forcing myself to smile. "How was yours?"

"Oh, you know—same shit, different day." He slides his hand onto my thigh. "I'm glad to see you though."

My heart swells, and the guilt spins in my stomach. There are too many competing emotions, and I have an urge to cry. Somehow, I avoid it. I reply, "I'm glad to see you, too."

He squeezes my thigh, removes his hand, and places it on the steering wheel. We ride in silence as he zips through traffic. My thoughts continue to race, and I don't realize he's not taking us home until I read the Teterboro Airport sign.

The hairs on my arms rise. I question, "Why are we here?"

He speeds up then parks the Land Rover in front of a humungous jet and black SUV. A man gets out of the passenger side and waits.

Nerves continue to expand in my belly. I put my hand on his arm. "Massimo?"

He grins. "I spoke with Alicia. She cleared you to take the week off. We're leaving for vacation."

I gape at him. My insides quiver, and Leo's face pops into my mind. I blurt out, "I-I can't go!"

His eyes darken. "Why not?"

Anxiety plagues me. I answer, "Work."

"I just told you Alicia said you can have the week off. I took care of everything, so stop worrying." He gets out of the vehicle and comes around to my side.

What if Leo doesn't approve?

Alicia will get him to.

I don't know that.

The man on the runway gets in. "Ma'am," he says as Massimo opens my door.

"Ummm...hi," I reply, then refocus on Massimo.

He chuckles. "You should see your face right now. Come on. We have a flight plan to adhere to." He takes my hand and helps me out of my seat.

Massimo guides me to the stairs. Not knowing what else to do, I climb them with him in tow. At the top of the steps is a red-haired woman. She wears it pinned in a neat French twist. Her lipstick matches her hair and nails. Her pressed navy-blue uniform is flawless. She chirps in an accent I can't determine, "Welcome aboard, Ms. Nikitin and Mr. Marino. I'm Chanel."

Overwhelmed and still freaking out, I nod and let Massimo guide me to the middle of the plane. I barely take in the luxurious tan leather seats before Chanel holds a glass of champagne in front of me.

I take it, and Massimo accepts one for himself. He holds up his flute. "Cheers."

"Cheers," I say, clinking the glass and then taking a sip. I stare at the bubbles, telling myself to calm down.

"Can I get either of you anything else?" Chanel chirps.

"I'm okay. Katiya?" Massimo questions.

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