All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,89
middle of his desk. Taking one last look around, I walk out and close his door.
Zach
White Christmas
The elevator door closes, and I let out the breath I was holding. She looked more beautiful today than she ever has. But when I was leaving, I felt she was disconnected. Everything in me wanted to ask her about it, but instead, I took the coward’s way out.
By walking away from her and not even turning back.
I get home and ignore the erratic beating of my heart. I pack my bags, and when my phone rings, I see it’s Jax.
“Hey,” I answer and hear horns in the background.
“I just landed in New York,” he says, and I laugh.
“Um, why?” I grab the pile of clothes and pack them.
“I met this model last night,” he says, “and she had a photo shoot today in Central Park, so I decided to follow her.”
“You followed a girl you met yesterday?” I repeat, stopping to pack. “Like less than twenty-four hours ago?”
“Did you not hear what I just said?” he asks. “I met a model.”
“What is her name?” I ask, and he stops talking now.
“Maria,” he says, “or Marsha.” I can literally hear the wheels spinning in his head. “Mariska.” He groans. “I know it starts with an M.”
“But do you?” I ask him again.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “I call her baby anyway.”
“How old is she?” I ask, and he groans.
“Old enough to take my cock all the way down her throat.” He laughs. “I’ve never gotten head like that in my life.”
I roll my eyes now. “This conversation has been fun,” I tell him.
“Did you do it?” he asks. “Did you fire her?”
“No,” I huff out and run my fingers through my hair, “I didn’t fire her.”
“You’re making a big mistake by letting her get away from you,” he says, and I laugh.
“You just followed a girl to New York, and you don’t even know her name,” I point out. “So forgive me for not taking dating advice from you.” I know I should just hang up the phone, but instead, my mouth just word vomits, “Besides, I have a plan.” I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a pounding headache coming on.
“You have a plan?” he repeats. “What type of plan?”
“A plan that I hope works,” I say. “I’ll call you in two days and let you know if it did or not.”
“Sounds good,” he says. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And we hang up.
I’m putting my phone down when a text comes through.
The envelope has been delivered.
My stomach suddenly sinks when I think about what I just did. Getting up, I finish packing and wind up at the airport three hours early.
I check in quickly and go straight to the gate instead of the lounge. I sit in a chair facing the entrance so I can see everything. The airport buzzes with holiday travelers and kids crying all over the place, but I keep my eyes up. I watch people rush by to catch their plane. I watch people lost and then turning around in circles. The hustle and bustle of of people trying not to run into each other.
My finger taps my leg as I watch the seats get taken with people waiting to board the flight.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will start the pre-boarding of flight four ninety-five to St. Johns Virgin Island.” I watch the people walk by, looking all over the place.
Getting up, I grab my bag and walk over to get on the plane. I get situated in my first class seat, then look out the window.
I ignore all the people boarding. Instead, I check my phone for emails or text messages but find nothing new. No one has emailed me or sent me anything. My foot starts to bounce from my nerves as I look over at the empty seat next to me.
The flight attendant comes over and asks me if I want anything to drink. I nod, continuing to look outside as they make their announcements about final boarding.
My heart beats so fast, and my stomach is burning with nerves when I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes. All I can see are her eyes and her smile. I can see the way she laughs, and I can smell her like she’s right next to me.
When I open my eyes and look to the side, everything inside me shifts. “Hi,” she says with a huge smile on