“That was fun to watch, although I wish I would have been here from the beginning to see how it started.” Gunner stood holding onto his book and a stubby.
“Crickey, what if that happened in public and the paparazzi caught it on video?” I took several more steps back.
“It wasn’t that bad, Solitaire. Would you like to see it?” Gunner referred to me by the nickname he gave me.
The intercom buzzed in asking if we were ready for dinner. He pushed a button on the desk, with a thumbs up to me and nod back at him. He told the pilot we were ready to eat.
“We only have salad and baked chicken tonight. I didn’t know what you like or don’t like to eat, but from now on I’ll make sure my assistant stocks what you like.”
“I’m not a picky eater. Salad and chicken will be fine,” I said. “Should I go and get it? Is there a kitchen? Do you need me to cook?”
“You’re a total surprise, and I’m not surprised often.” He gestured for me to follow him. “This is the kitchen. For the most part we don’t cook while in flight, but we could if we wanted to.”
“I see it’s in a warmer. Who cooks it?” I asked, pulling the warmer open. “It smells delicious. I must be hungrier than I thought.”
“People prepare it and deliver it to the plane before takeoff. I usually have my assistant with me, but not on this trip. I borrowed one of Kellan’s and she will bring us our food.” He hooked his elbow out for me to take it.
“Don’t be silly, we’re standing right here in front of it. Why disturb your assistant?” I started pulling drawers open looking for a pot holder. “Are you going to help me or just stand there?”
Chapter 24
AUGUST
Ispent over two hours pretending to work on blueprints. The few things I needed to look at had taken only about thirty minutes, but Imogen sat quietly watching a movie and I didn’t want to disturb that peace for her. Mom had sent me an email earlier in the day explaining everything about her, but I hadn’t had a chance to read it until I was working at the desk. This girl had been through a lot and watching her smile made me want to do whatever it took to help her past things.
She must feel so lost with no belongings and no contact with anyone she knows. Asher’s an idiot to not get to know this girl.
When she stretched and walked over to stand at my desk, I wasn’t sure what to say. She made it easy for me by starting a conversation. The whole time she was telling me about her love of drawing and her learning massage from her grandpa, I was lost in the blueness of her inviting eyes.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, hoping she didn’t feel the need to help me. She had misunderstood my rubbing at my neck as muscle tension rather than emotional attraction. Asher had told me she was pretty. He hadn’t told me just how the blue of her eyes pulled you in.
When she touched my neck, I fought with everything in me to not let her see the shock of electric current that ran through my body. I couldn’t, I shouldn’t. Mom had set her up for Asher. She was his type, picked specifically for him. Until Asher was done thinking he was in love, I planned to make this girl’s world better.
When the pilot buzzed in to ask if we were hungry, I could have kissed him. She had just had her hands on my neck, I felt the tingle of attraction begin the minute her fingers touched my skin. Because of that sensation I desperately needed a distraction.
“Come on, I‘ll show you the kitchen.” I gestured for her to follow me.
Imogen was a different kind of girl than the ones I dated a few times a month. She thought I was silly, yes silly, to not just get the food for myself. I’d been being served for my whole life. She was a real eye opener. We found the potholders and brought our plates out to the table.
“Where do you keep the wine?“ I asked over the intercom. “I know you’re laughing at me up there. When you’re done, can you find me the wine?” I had to laugh myself, thinking about how pathetic that sounded.
“Mr. Hawthorne, I’ll be right out with the wine. Would Imogen like wine or something else?” the temporary assistant asked.
“I should have asked you myself. Do you want wine or something else?
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take water,” she answered. “You go ahead and have a glass of wine if you need it.”
“Need it?” I buzzed back to bring two waters “I don’t need alcohol. I’m more of a water guy honestly.”
“It didn’t seem that way the other times we met. You’d had so much alcohol you didn’t remember meeting me in the elevator,” she argued the point. “Are you saying those were unusual circumstances?”
“I do remember meeting you at least the first time. I just didn’t say anything because you seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it. Plus, I was thrown off by the red hair.” I reached to touch her hair but caught myself.
“I knew it was you. But when I brought it up the other night you acted so strange about it, I kinda thought it was from you being drunk.” Imogen stood and began pacing. “Was it your idea to do the mail order bride thing?”
“Not at all. I was actually going to ask you how that came about.” I opened the water bottles the assistant delivered. “I thought about you after I gave you my card. I wondered if you were okay.”
Oh no, what did I just say? If she looks at that card, she’s going to see my real name.