hiding inside me… I might never stop crying. It might be a deluge of tears that refuse to end. I will spend the rest of my life wallowing in a pool of self-pity.
I cannot let him in. Not even for a moment. Because one moment leads to the next. They stack up on top of each other like a tower. And that tower will climb into eternity if I’m not careful. I will create an ever-growing tower of eternal sadness if I let one drop of what haunts me out.
So I walk to the plane in silence. My breathing hitches. One inhale with each foot forward, my mind swirling with fear, hate, and longing. One exhale with each emotion as I leave them all behind.
And by the time I’m being guided up the steps of the jet by Jax’s hand on the small of my back, I have it all under control again.
The tears recede. The fear becomes courage. The hate turns to anger. And the longing—well, I keep the longing. I need the longing. I need the emptiness in my heart to remind me of what’s possible.
A life.
Not a half-dead girl who lives in the past.
But a life. A real life filled with the promise of a future. All I need is Nick Tate to fill up the emptiness he left behind and I can be whole again.
The jet-black exterior of the plane is a stark contrast to the warm interior. The sand-colored floors gleam, and the reflection of my shoes makes me feel like I’m standing in a clear pool of water. I step forward into the cabin and take it all in.
The entrance leads to a sitting area complete with two sets of padded leather flight chairs on each side of a small meeting table. But off to my right, down the slim corridor, there is another room separated by pocket doors. All the walls are a warm ochre color, and the trim is a highly polished yellow-toned burl wood. My fingertips reach out to touch it as I take another step forward. So smooth.
Jax gives me slight encouragement at the small of my back again, turning me to the right, towards the partitioned part of the cabin. “We’re going to skip the meeting room and have drinks in the lounge, Essie,” he says to the nearest flight attendant. She’s dressed like a waiter, with black wool pants, a crisp white shirt, and a black apron that falls below her waist.
“Of course, sir,” she says as she helps me out of my coat and folds it across her arm. Jax takes his coat off and places it over mine. “Do you know what you want? Or would you like a drink menu?”
I tune out his response and start walking, eager to see what awaits me. I feel like I’m stepping into a new world. I’ve been on my share of private planes and I book first-class tickets when I need to fly commercial. But Ford never had access to a plane like this.
This is luxury, pure and simple.
“Here, Sasha,” Jax says with a gentle prod that tells me to walk faster. “We’re dining on board in the back.”
The second room is much more informal, but still elegant. The butter-colored sofa stretches along one side of the fuselage, coming to a slight curve at the far end of the cabin, just enough to form a semi-circular dining area. There is a small table with enough room for two people to eat comfortably, set with china and silverware that sparkles under the subdued light.
I take a seat on the long side of the couch while Jax settles on to the curved portion. The leather is so smooth, I want to pet it.
“Pretty nice, huh?” Jax says, watching me take in the decor. There’s art on the wall. I’ve never seen art on the wall of a private plane before.
“Wow. I feel like there’s a world of hidden rich people and I’ve just been invited into the club.”
“Like a secret, huh?”
I look at Jax and he gives me a wink. It unsettles me, even though it came with a smile. “Something like that,” I reply back, looking down at my hands.
What the hell am I doing? Getting involved with something better left alone, is the reply in my head.
“Doesn’t your father have a private jet?”
“We don’t own one,” I say with an edge to my voice, “if that’s what you’re asking. We use them. The studio he works for has