“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Lucas? Am I good to go?” I stopped in the middle of the forest path, ready to turn back given the signal.
“Yes, Owen, you can come home. I will issue an official press-release and notify your office.”
“I owe you a dinner, man.”
“You owe me a lot more than that, Owen. See ya.”
I swiped off and ran back to my mansion, leaping over rocks and tree branches, like some feral beast. When I reached the paved road, I slowed down and called my pilot. I had forty minutes to get ready.
I hadn’t shaved in weeks – because, why would I? – so that was the first order of business. As the hair fell into the sink, I began to recognize the person in the mirror. I smiled, thinking of Sydney, she’d appreciate the clean shaven look. She was waiting for me. Which meant I had a chance.
There were no things to pack, so I grabbed my phone and my wallet and raced to the airfield.
“I trust everything worked out for the best?” the pilot asked me, as I was boarding.
“Not yet. Let’s get the fuck off this island already and fix that.”
+++
Finally, I landed back in Chicago. On my way home, I felt like I had never left: the city was still the same, busy and oblivious to everything out of its immediate reach. As they were moving east on I-90, nobody paid me any attention. It was like I wasn’t even there. It felt good. I hoped it would carry on that way. I didn’t want public attention any more. A month earlier I might have used this scandal to promote myself and the company, but that seemed so insignificant now. There was only one thing I truly wanted.
I told the driver to change their destination, and I spent the rest of the ride planning my evening.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a small apartment building. There was a car under a tree, a silver Honda.
“Wish me luck,” I said. “And don’t wait for me.”
I stepped out of the car, made sure my shirt looked okay and went up to the front door. I felt like a high-schooler about to ring the bell to ask a girl for prom. I tried to control my breathing, and pressed on the buzzer. A minute later I heard the door unlock, and then it swung open.
Sydney was standing there, wearing a bathrobe, her hair in a ponytail. I looked into her eyes, her nose and the freckles around it, those beautiful lips. Her eyes were getting wet. We stood frozen for a moment longer, processing it, and then she opened the door further, inviting me in.
“You’re here,” she said breathlessly sitting down the couch.
“I am.”
“Where were you? Am I even allowed to know?”
“The island. Hiding out. How are you? How’s your brother?’
“Better, thanks to you. You didn’t have to keep covering the bills you know. I know I broke our deal.”
“Of course you did, because you were scared. But you don’t have to be anymore, I’m cleared. A free man.”
“You are?” Her eyes were bright, I had missed looking into them.
“Yep, they don’t have anything on me.”
“I’m sorry Owen, I misjudged you. I know that now. And if you are into some less than perfect business practices, that’s not my business. I’m not focused on that anymore.”
I moved towards her, “Then what are you focused on?”
“You.”
She stood up and removed her robe.
Fuck.
That body. Those lips. Nothing should have ever kept me away from this.