I step into the SUV, relishing in the warmth it offers. Pierce follows, taking the seat next to me. As the car starts down my street, he holds a venti Starbucks cup out to me. “Here.”
“I thought—”
He interrupts, “You shouldn’t underestimate me.”
“Do I need to tell you that I’m not very talkative until I’ve finished my coffee, or do you know that too?” I ask, feeling bold.
One side of his mouth turns up. “I would have figured it out in a minute or two, but thanks for the warning.”
“No problem.”
For the rest of the ride to the airport, I sip on my soy latte. How he knew how I liked my coffee is a mystery to me, but I’m not going to question it. It’s relaxing not to have to take the train, being crowded in with a bunch of people I don’t know. However, that same uncomfortable feeling will creep right back up when the wheels touch down in New York. People I don’t know. Meetings I’ll squirm through because I have no idea what’s going on.
We pull up in front of a building I don’t recognize. There’s only a few people standing on the sidewalk, and O’Hare is usually bustling with people.
“Where are we?”
“We’re taking the company jet.”
Confusion only leads to questions. “If you have a jet, why were you riding coach from Omaha to Chicago?”
He smiles. “My plane was being serviced. Besides, it all worked out, didn’t it?”
I brush his comment aside, feeling a lump form in my throat as I remember the hundreds of stories I’ve read over the years about small plane crashes. “Are those jets safe?”
“I’ve had this plane for six years, and between me and the rest of the Stanley execs, it flies two to three times a week. Never had a problem.”
I nod, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it. I’m not. If I’d known, I would have taken an anxiety pill or two before leaving the house this morning. Now, I’m screwed.
“We’re clear for take-off in about twenty minutes. They’ll just need to see your ID.”
My head spins so fast that the next few minutes are a total blur. I hand the lady inside my driver’s license and use the restroom . . . twice. I don’t really recall getting on the plane or buckling my seatbelt.
“Do you need anything before we take off?” the female flight attendant asks.
When I don’t answer, Pierce does it for me. “Bring her a water. I’ll take a coffee, black.”
She smiles warmly. “My pleasure.”
I can’t tell you what happened the rest of the flight . . . it’s all a blur.
MY LEGS SHAKE AS I TAKE the final step off the plane. Never in my life have I been this happy to walk on solid ground. I’ve taken it for granted.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Pierce asks, coming up behind me.
“We survived.”
“That we did, and, lucky for you, we get to take a car to our first appointment.” He surprises me, placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me to a waiting car. I should be used to it by now, but it still sends a little tingle down my spine. Even more so after dinner the other night.
“What’s on the agenda?” I ask as soon as we’re inside the waiting town car.
He displays a wide grin. “Not a fan of surprises?”
“Not usually.”
He runs his finger across his chin. “We’re going straight from here to meet with Wade. More than likely, we’ll grab lunch with him and tour the site. If we make it through all of that, I have a dinner reservation at New York’s most exclusive steakhouse. Thought if we were in the city, we might as well experience it.” He rattles it off without blinking an eye. Just listening to it makes me want to fall back onto my pillow.
“Does this schedule ever wear you out?”
He stretches his legs out, his tall frame taking up half the backseat. Everything about him commands my attention. His suit. The strong jaw framing his handsome face. “I don’t have anything else to do with my time, although I’m hoping that changes soon.”
The way he’s looking at me—eyes glossed over, touching his lower lip—defines the meaning of his words. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His words from the other night ring through my head. It’s one of those moments where I’m not sure what to say, so instead, I stare out my window. The movement probably says more than I ever could. After all, the possibilities play in my head too. I just won’t admit it.
I relax back into the seat watching New York City fly by my window. I’ve always wanted to come here, but I envisioned seeing the Statue of Liberty and walking through museum after museum until I couldn’t stand to be on my feet any longer. I’d also get one of those frozen hot chocolates from Serendipity; I’ve always wondered if they are as good as they look.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Pierce asks, breaking through my big city dreams.
“Frozen hot chocolate,” I answer.
He doesn’t say anything until I glance over at him. “Have you ever had one?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“We might have to change that.”
We spend the next several hours in meetings, going over budgets and design concepts with Wade Adams. After ten minutes, I knew I wasn’t going to be a fan of his. He’s on some sort of power trip over Pierce, displaying a constant stream of arrogance and defiance. There’s obvious history between them, and I’m starting to wonder why we’re even here.
“If I have to spend ten more minutes with that asshole, I’m going to punch him,” Pierce remarks as we climb into the waiting car. We just finished our tour of the site, but made plans with Wade to meet one more time before we leave tomorrow. It’s safe to say neither of us is looking forward to it.
“Do you need me to hold you back?”
He laughs, eyes wandering my small frame. “Good luck with that.”
“There are ways to distract you.” The glimmer in his eyes tells me that it wasn’t the best choice of words. “What’s the plan now?” I ask, hoping to lead his mind on a detour.
“We have a couple hours before our dinner reservation. I thought we’d check into the hotel, and then you can take a nap or attempt to make yourself even more beautiful than you already are. It’s up to you.”
He’s smooth . . . really smooth.
He’s sexy and intense, yet harmless. He hints, but he doesn’t push. He’s not the type to take what I haven’t offered.
“Where are we staying?” I ask.
“Four Seasons.”
He doesn’t spare an expense. I’ve only ever heard about it but never stayed anywhere like it. Not even close.
The car pulls in front of the sleek and elegant high-rise hotel. “This is amazing,” I say, all but pressing my forehead to the window.
Pierce slides across the seat until his body touches mine. I glance over, noticing him look out the window right along with me. “Wait until you see the inside.” He whispers the words so close to my ear, I feel his warm breath against my skin.
“What are we waiting for then?”
The driver shifts the car into park and comes around to open my door. “Go on inside, miss, and I’ll send your luggage in with the bellman,” he says as I step up onto the curb.
“Thank you.” I smile at him, watching Pierce slip money into his hand.
The revolving door opens to something just as magnificent—a multi-story entry, columns, and patterned limestone floors. Even if I’d had twenty years of design training at the best schools, I couldn’t have come up with this.
“What do you think?” Pierce asks.
“I don’t think I ever want to go back to Chicago.” It’s the truth.
“We could arrange that too.”
I tug my lower lip between my teeth. “Let’s revisit that at the end of the night.”
I’m joking, but I’m not. Chicago is nice, but New York City is magical. The culture. Everything.
While Pierce checks us in, I stay back, looking at more of the décor and people. New York is so diverse. In this lobby alone, I hear several languages, see different types of people. I could spend hours, listening and observing.