"What?" "Casino high rollers.
Gamblers who don't blink an eye at dropping a hundred grand or more on the turn of a card.
They get a lot of comps to lure them in - food, suites, and travel to and fro.
My mom's second husband was a whale.
It's one of the reasons why she left him."
He shook his head at me.
"The shit you know.
So this is a company jet?" "One of five," the attendant said, returning with a fruit and cheese tray.
"Jesus," Cary muttered.
"That's a damned fleet."
I watched as he dug a travel packet of Dramamine out of his pocket and washed the pills down with his Bloody Mary.
"Want some?" he asked, tapping at the wrapper on the table.
"Nope.
Thanks."
"You gonna deal with Mr.
Hot and Moody?" "Not sure.
I may just pull out my e- reader."
He nodded.
"Probably safer for your sanity."
Thirty minutes later, Cary was snoring lightly in his fully reclined seat, his ears covered with noise- canceling headphones.
I watched him for a long minute, appreciating the sight of him looking restful and relaxed, the shallow grooves around his mouth softening in slumber.
Then I got up and went to the cabin I'd seen Gideon disappear into earlier.
I debated knocking, then thought against it.
He was shutting me out elsewhere; I wasn't going to give him the opportunity to do so now.
He glanced up when I walked in, his face showing no surprise at my abrupt appearance.
He sat at a desk, listening to a woman who was speaking to him via satellite video.
His coat was hung on the back of his chair and his tie was loosened.
After that one brief glance at me, he resumed his conversation.
I started stripping.
My tank top came off first, followed by my sandals and jeans.