Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(120)

My father uncovers his tray and I uncover mine, and we’re both silent for a few minutes. The food is, as always, exquisite.

Patting the corners of his mouth with his cloth napkin, my father clears his throat. Napkin back in his lap, he reaches for the steaming mug of coffee sitting on the edge of the tray.

“What have you been planning, then?” he says casually, as if there had been no interruption.

“I have to go to New York to get her. At least to talk to her one last time.”

Now that breakfast is half-eaten, I’m gripped with a new urgency.

“The plane is yours if you need it.”

I’m a little taken aback that my father isn’t going to try to talk me out of this, isn’t going to try to convince me otherwise.

“I need it.” My voice is tight as I speak.

Without another word, my father reaches for the phone in his pocket, swipes the screen once, and dials. It’s not thirty seconds before he has the travel team getting the plane to the runway at Sainthall’s airport.

I stand up, putting my napkin down on my tray. My father sips his coffee again, then looks up into my eyes. I see in his face nothing but pride.

“Go,” he says, a smile spreading across his face. “Be safe.”

I move around the table and lean down, giving my father a kiss on the cheek for the first time in years. “I’ll be back soon.”





We were in the air inside of two hours, Nate sitting across from me on the royal jet. The flight is long enough that we’re both partaking in mimosas brought out by a trim flight attendant who might have kept my attention at another time in my life. Nate raises his glass to me across the aisle.

“What are we celebrating?” I say, my nerves already taut, on edge.

“Doing the right goddamn thing, old friend,” he says, and I can’t argue with that.





Everything proceeds smoothly for most of the flight. I can’t sleep—my heart races and my mind wanders when I close my eyes—but the royal jet is equipped with enough entertainment options to keep us occupied for at least a week. I flip through the movie selections without really seeing them.

I need to get to Jessica in time, and I have a deadline. There’s really no time to spare.

Christian is my contact on the ground in New York, and he answered enthusiastically when I messaged him last night. He’s throwing a going-away party for Jessica tonight at the Purple Swan, and that’s where I want to reach her. Because tomorrow she’s leaving the city, and she hasn’t given anyone her new address—a new start, I suppose. I’ll go to Seattle if I have to, but if I have to follow her across the country, I’ll look like some kind of deranged stalker.

So it’s not ideal when the pilot calls back to tell me there’s a massive thunderstorm delaying our descent into New York.

My heart in my throat, I pull out my phone and connect to the in-flight Wi-Fi.

Everything good?

She’s leaving soon.

I check the local time. It’s nearly 10:30.

Stall her!

I’ll try…





Chapter 47

Jessica





The old version of myself might have wanted to stay at the Swan until close, but New and Improved Jessica is tired. I’ve spent the last however many days working on the move to Seattle like it’s my magnum opus. I haven’t left any detail unplanned.

This is not a spontaneous flight from the city. Not by any means.

My friends are still having a lovely time, although many of them have had a little too much to drink.

“Don’t go,” Christian says for the tenth time when I make a move to stand up. “It’s your going-away party! When will you have another one of these?”

I roll my eyes at him and give him a teasing push on the shoulder. “None of you are going to leave the city any time soon. I’ll only be a flight away.”

Fifteen minutes later, after picking at another round of small plates passed around by the wait staff, I can’t ignore the fatigue settling behind my eyes. If I have anything else to drink, I’m going to be miserable in, what, six hours? That’s when I have to get up to catch my flight to Seattle. Once I land, I’m going to be going to Jamie’s place to stay for a few days while the movers bring my things across the country, and I’m going to look like an * if I show up exhausted and hungover.

“Dessert!” Christian appeals to me as I stand up, pointing across the room to the waiters carrying more gleaming silver trays.

I shake my head. “I don’t need any more dessert, Chris. I’ve got to get going.”

“But it’s so early! You can’t leave yet!”

“My flight leaves at 8:00.” I lean down and kiss him on the cheek. Why the hell is he being so insistent that I stay?

“Fifteen minutes, Jess,” he says, vaguely indicating the rest of the table. Carolyn is in deep conversation with her date, John, who she’s seen a few times and seems to like quite a bit, so I know she won’t be leaving soon, and everyone else is invested in a conversation about whether it’s better to visit Italy in the summer or the South of France.

Yes, the timing is perfect.

“Thank you so much for the party,” I say, smiling, and then make my way around the table, collecting hugs and good lucks as I go.