It feels a bit weird to fly without any alcohol. Champagne is generally de rigueur, but this is just as much about Belle as me. I can’t stomach serving it, knowing what happened to her.
“Would you like me to prepare your pajamas?” the man asks. “I can have them warmed or cooled, depending on your preference.”
“That won’t be necessary for me,” I say, while my wife goggles at the man. I dip my head so I can whisper in her ear. “Do you want them?”
“No, thank you,” she says.
“Excellent, sir. Madam. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.” He makes a smart turn and leaves us alone.
She watches him go and shakes her head. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to him.”
“Why not?”
“Because… He’s a butler.” She leans close and whispers, “I thought butlers didn’t exist anymore.”
I chuckle. “Oh, they do. Dad has one, although he’s not that great. Geraldine’s family has one…which is why Dad hired his. Gotta keep up with the Joneses.”
She bares her teeth at the mention of my dad. It’s sweet how she is so ferocious on my behalf.
Still, there’s a feeling that warns me not to take everything here at face value. Belle has too many secrets, and until I know what they are, I can never be sure of her, no matter what my heart tells me.
Chapter Seventeen
Annabelle
Elliot told me to rest if I want, but I can’t. There is the feeling of slight fullness from the vibrator inside me that simply cannot be ignored. I’m sure Elliot has plans for that later. The sex earlier on the plane only whetted my appetite for what’s to come.
But even if it weren’t for the toy and sex, the flight itself is beyond exciting. I’ve flown a few times, always in business class, but this is the kind of stuff I only read about in glossy magazines about the rich and famous. It isn’t something that happens to me.
We dine in-flight. Elliot switches his seat so we can sit across from each other with the big wooden table between us. Our butler begins serving us what’s going to be a six-course meal on real china with real silver utensils. I even get to choose between steak and grilled chicken.
“So if I take the steak, does my husband get chicken?” I ask.
Elliot is having a hard time hiding a smile, but Parker’s expression betrays absolutely nothing. “No, Madam. Your choice will not affect his.”
I select the beef and look at Elliot after Parker is gone with Elliot’s order of steak as well. “So he prepared two of each?”
Elliot nods.
“What a waste.”
“What can he do? If he only had one of each, we might not both get what we want.”
“But…” It boggles my mind. “It seems crazy wasteful.”
“It’s his job to make us happy.”
“I guess so.” My phone buzzes in my purse. “Oh darn. I forgot to turn it off.”
“It’s no problem. The whole point of flying in your own jet is you do what you want.”
I pull it out, flushing.
Happy honeymoon, Nonny’s text says. Send me pics!
“It’s Nonny. She sounds perky enough. She wants pictures already.”
“I’m sure we can manage to send a few,” Elliot says indulgently.