“Can I take your purse, Miss . . . ?”
The flight attendant—tall, thin, and twentyish—flashed a perfectly manicured smile.
Trina couldn’t help but feel a certain companionship with the woman. She dropped her phone inside and handed her the bag. “Trina is fine. What’s your name?”
“Nita.”
“Thank you, Nita.”
Nita took her purse and stowed it before closing the door and securing the lock.
Wade encouraged Trina to sit across from him. “The pilot told me we needed to get in the air as quickly as possible. He anticipates the need to stay in Nassau for a minimum of six hours.”
Trina smiled. “I’m sure we can push that off until tomorrow.”
Nita walked by them again, and this time she brought two glasses of sparkling wine. Trina didn’t feel the need after the late night before but took the glass anyway. Within minutes they were taxiing onto the runway.
“So you really didn’t google me when you went back to your room last night?” Wade asked.
“I did not.” They’d started this conversation in the car over. “It was late. I was tired. Besides, I’d rather you tell me what you want me to know than read about you online.”
Wade sat back in his seat and played with the stem of his glass. “You have more restraint than I do. I would have googled you if you’d shared your last name.”
Her last name would have pinged more pages than his, or so she thought.
“Are you married?”
She snapped her gaze back to his. “No. No, I wouldn’t be here . . .”
He leaned forward and glanced at her left hand. “I see a tan line.”
“When did you notice that? Last night when you were trying to convince me to date you?”
“When we got in the car. I looked for a ring last night.”
She thought of her sleazy Italian. “A ring would have stopped you?”
Wade sipped his wine. “I am many things, but I don’t sniff around another man’s woman.”
The plane started to pick up speed. “No one says things like that anymore.”
“I’m Texas, born and raised, and I’ve always talked like that.” The smirk told her he was proud of it.
Trina took a deep breath and spat out the truth as the plane lifted off the ground. “My late husband shot himself one year ago this weekend.”
Her confession wiped the grin off Wade’s face. Before he could comment, she continued. “I was in Italy because I didn’t want to see that look of pity hovering in every corner of my life. Which is why I’m not in a hurry to get home and see my friends.”
“Whoa.”
“So I would appreciate it if you could just absorb the fact and move past it.”
“I think that might take me more than a few minutes.”
She looked out the window at the rain, which was starting to run down the side of the plane. If she told him they were married less than a year before she buried Fedor, it would only prompt more questions. The answers wouldn’t be something she wanted to give. She sat alone in her thoughts for a few minutes before changing the subject. “What would I have found out if I had stayed awake and looked you up on the Internet?”
The pity in his eyes slowly faded. “I’m a singer.”
She’d guessed maybe an actor when he’d told her he was famous. Since she hadn’t been to the movies in over two years, he could have been the latest and greatest without her knowing.
“A country singer,” he added. “I just finished my tour in Miami.”
“That’s why I’ve never heard of you. I don’t listen to a lot of country music.”
“I’ll see what I can do to change that.” He’d turned on his charming smile.
The plane hit a pocket of air and dipped left, then right.
Wade glanced at the ceiling.
“Just a little turbulence.”
“You fly a lot?” he asked.
“I was a flight attendant, before . . .” She dropped the end of her sentence.
That look of pity started to cross his face again.
“None of that. Please, Wade. I’m not worthy of your pity on the subject. I wouldn’t have mentioned my late husband if I could have gotten around it.”
Wade closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m glad you told me. It’s all adding up now.”
“What’s adding up?”
“The not wanting to go home. Your desire to dis me last night and never see me again.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “We are on a jet together, so my conviction to stay away obviously wasn’t that strong.”
“Yes, but you’re sitting over there instead of in my lap, which is where I’d rather you be.”
That had her laughing. “You’re so blatant.”
“I’m honest. It’s a curse, though my mama would say differently.”
The plane dipped again, forcing Trina to hold her glass up to avoid spilling the wine. The intercom system inside the plane made a noise, and the voice of a man she assumed was the captain started to talk.
“We’re hitting some rough weather, Mr. Thomas. I’d suggest you and your guest stay seated with your seat belts fastened until I can get us away from this storm.”
Wade sat a little taller and looked out the window. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Trina took a drink of her wine to keep it from spilling. “They wouldn’t have taken off if it wasn’t safe. It’s just gonna be bumpy.”
Trina peered at the flight attendant, who was sitting several feet away, the phone to the cockpit to her ear.
“This doesn’t bother you?”
“Not at all. In fact, I was working in the private sector as a flight attendant before my marriage. I’d planned on creating a company for private flight attendants.”
“That didn’t work out?” Wade asked.
“I didn’t pursue it. I might, eventually. I’ve had other priorities this year.”
“I can imagine.”
“Enough about me. What’s your story?” The way he was watching the rain against the window told her Wade was nervous. In her experience, the best way to quell that was to get him talking.
“I started singing in the shower as soon as I realized a hairbrush could double as a microphone.”
The image of a young boy covered in soap, holding a round brush, popped into her head.
“When I was about eight, me and my buddy started a two-man band. He used an old paint bucket as a drum, and I had a hand-me-down guitar I learned how to play on my own.”
The plane dipped again. This time Wade’s glass fell to the floor and started rolling around, spilling wine everywhere.
Trina looked at the flight attendant, who reached for her seat belt to cinch it tighter.
“Whoa.”
“It’s okay—”
“Sorry for the turbulence, Mr. Thomas. This is the captain speaking. It looks like we’re being encouraged to land on Grand Bahama instead of Nassau. There are lightning strikes on the smaller island, and turning back to Miami would have us chasing this storm. We’re very sorry for the inconvenience. As soon as the weather clears, we will get you to your destination.”
“That’s not good,” Wade said, looking behind him toward Nita. “Is everything okay up there?” He pointed toward the cockpit door.
“Just lightning, like the pilot said.”
Wade turned his wild eyes on Trina.
“Hey, it’s fine.”
“Easy for you to say. Musicians always die in small plane crashes.”
Trina couldn’t help but take the blame for being on the plane with a storm approaching. Not that she felt they were at risk of falling out of the sky, but Wade obviously considered it a high probability.
“Do you need me to come over there and sit next to you?” she asked, trying to tease him.
His eyes locked on hers. “Don’t you dare take that seat belt off.”
The plane started to descend and bank to the left. Trina tried to see the ground but only saw clouds.
“Does your friend still play the drums with you?”
“What?”
“The drums. You said you had a friend who played when you were a kid.”
Wade shook his head. “No. He ah . . .”
Trina noticed his hands fisting on the armrest. His knuckles turned white.
“He what?” Trina kept her concern about the bad weather to herself. As flights went, this was one she could have done without. The small plane made it worse.
“Married his high school sweetheart, had a daughter within the first year.”
“Married life and your job aren’t compatible?”
“I’m not sure about that. Drew didn’t have the same drive. Took the excuse of a wife and a kid to stop trying and went to work with his father.” Wade looked out the window again and released a relieved sigh. “Land. I see land.”
Trina leaned forward and rested a hand on his knee. “Hey . . .”
He turned her way and tried to smile.
He sucked at it.
“I’m sorry. This was a bad idea.”
Wade covered her hand with his and squeezed. “It was my bad idea.”
“You were just trying to get me to go out with you.”