“Where are we going?” she asked when he led her out of his penthouse to the elevator. “Don’t we have meetings this morning?”
“Yes. But not here.” Emerson looked at her with veiled eyes, trying to figure out what she was thinking. She was such a mystery now, but he was betting everything on the possibility that she was sick of the life in Manhattan. She might like the intensity of the city, but not the cut-throat world of Wall Street. He noticed that she’d tried to cover up those dark circles with makeup and hoped he wasn’t too late.
She might hate him now. She might think he was the worst kind of person in the world. He’d seen her talking to the other guests at the dinner party last night. He’d almost burst out laughing when she’d stopped herself from rolling her eyes at one person’s comments about the Japanese yen. And he’d almost grabbed her in his arms when she’d cuttingly remarked that the world didn’t have to revolve around discussions about money. If it hadn’t been for that comment, he wouldn’t have taken the chance on today’s trip.
“It isn’t a long trip,” he told her when he noticed her body stiffen. He hated that she got so tense whenever they flew somewhere. He wished he could help her, make her fears all go away and reassure her somehow. But he also knew that phobias weren’t completely rational and it didn’t help to apply logic. He just hoped this was the last trip they were forced to take. Although he wouldn’t mind taking her over to Europe and dressing her in all the latest fashions from Paris or Milan. He knew of several boutiques where he’d like to drape her in the expensive lace. And then take it off. Slowly.
He shook himself out of that particular fantasy. One step at a time, he told himself. “I think you’ll enjoy this trip,” he said, trying to reassure her.
Rachel’s stomach immediately tightened with those words. “Not here” meant somewhere else. And that meant flying. Damn it! She hated flying! She’d been able to hide it after that first flight, but that didn’t mean her fear of the takeoff and landing weren’t painful and suffocating. It just meant she’d learned to hide those feelings from Emerson.
She sipped her coffee but couldn’t really enjoy the robust flavor because she knew they were headed to the airport. Emerson was on the phone, giving out instructions about something, but she couldn’t concentrate on his words as her mind was completely wrapped around the fear of what was coming.
Sure enough, the driver pulled up right outside the damn plane!
She took a deep breath and stepped out behind Emerson, resigned to her fate. Wherever they were going, she’d have to deal with it. But somehow, some way, she was going to tell him that she needed out. Maybe this weekend, she thought as her mind worked through the problem. The biggest one being that she would miss him so painfully. She fought against that pain, trying to push it away because it didn’t really make sense. She couldn’t be sad about missing a man she didn’t know, didn’t like and didn’t understand! It was ridiculous. But it was true and she fought back the tears as she approached the steps to his jet.
“Good morning, Mr. Watson, Ms. Carson,” Emily, the flight attendant, said as they stepped onto the flight.
Rachel smiled stiffly at Emily, wishing she could be more friendly, but it was impossible when she knew this plane was about to take off. There was also her jealousy about the beautiful blond woman. She always seemed so attentive to Emerson’s needs and it really irritated her.
Emerson noticed Emily’s hurt reaction to Rachel’s curt nod of greeting. He’d known that Rachel didn’t really like the flight attendant, but had savored her jealousy, needing the small piece of evidence that Rachel still felt something for him. But now it was time to clear everything up, straighten out the world and hope that everything landed the way he wanted. Including helping Emily understand Rachel, and helping Rachel get through the flight a bit more comfortably. “Don’t worry about Rachel, Emily. She’s terrified of flying,” Emerson said warmly as they entered the plane.
Emily’s surprised expression told Rachel a lot, but she was too busy gaping at Emerson’s back to respond. In the end, she had to be honest and smiled weakly at Emily, shrugging her shoulders as if to say, “I can’t figure out how to overcome the issue.”
Emily’s surprise morphed into a warm, understanding smile and she nodded with genuine warmth. “I understand,” she said and stepped into the tiny galley.
Rachel glared at Emerson’s back before taking her own seat, irritated beyond words with the man and his obnoxious, mysterious agenda. “How could you tell her that?” Rachel demanded when she and Emerson were alone. She crossed her arms over her stomach, glaring at him while he casually sat down in one of the large, leather seats. “I thought I was supposed to be impervious to fear and doubt. You’ve been preaching all along about how I can’t show weakness to anyone!”
“Ms. Carson?” Emily said from behind her.
Rachel twirled around, embarrassed to be snapping at Emerson like that. And then she suppressed that feeling. Emily wasn’t the enemy, she told herself and forced a smile onto her face.
“This might help,” Emily was saying, offering her a champagne flute filled with frothy liquid.
“Please,” she sighed, “call me Rachel?” she asked. This woman seemed kind now and Rachel was desperate for human interaction without a hidden agenda. Rachel took the glass but she wasn’t sure she wanted to drink it. “Can you tell me what’s in it? I don’t want any sedatives or anything like that.”
Emily shook her head with a warm, caring smile. “Nothing like that, ma’am. It’s just orange juice and champagne. It might help you relax during the takeoff and landing. I know it can be a bit daunting if you’re frightened of those times.” Emily hesitated another moment, then said, “I can assure you that the captain is extremely capable and knows how to handle this craft expertly.”
Rachel blinked, surprised by the assurance.
“Emily is married to the captain,” Emerson was saying and Rachel could feel the smile in his words.
She glanced back at him, showing him her exasperation. “Is nothing a secret from you?” she demanded. How could he have known that she was jealous of the other woman? Hadn’t she hidden her feelings well enough? Obviously not, she thought with irritation.