Rise - Part One (Rise #1)(19)

"That's great." She uncrosses her legs, readying herself to stand. "Haven will love seeing you."

"I'll love seeing her too. Babies are the best."

I say the words with the full knowledge that in my world that may very well be true. In Landon Beckett's world it seems that 'baby' is a bad word.

***

"I'd like you to fly out to L.A."

"You'd like me to fly to Los Angeles?"

"Yes. At the end of next week," Gabriel qualifies his initial statement. "I want you to meet with the manager of the boutique we're opening there. I'd like you to explain our event to her."

There's a thing called a smartphone for that, Mr. Foster.

"I can do that," I say because I'm holding half of the money I'll make for this project in my hands. Gabriel's assistant had called me down to his office this morning to meet with him briefly. I was surprised when she handed me an envelope containing half of my fee. I wasn't expecting to receive it until closer to the date of the actual project. It's a relief though. It means I can stop worrying about how I'm going to cover the very large long distance bill I know is headed my way. All those cross country calls to the vendors helping me with my project in California are adding up.

They are still cheaper than a last minute airplane ticket. My expenses are part of my fee so I'm going to have to cover the flight on my own. At least, I can camp out in my dad's extra room for the night before I head back to New York.

"If you arrange to leave next Friday, I'll make the company jet available to you."

No. That's my mind playing tricks on me. He didn't just say I could fly on a private jet to L.A., did he?

"Landon pilots for us occasionally." The way he cocks his brow and smiles at me suggests that Landon may have stopped by this office to share the sordid details of our evening together.

I shake my head. There's no way someone like Gabriel Foster engages in talking about sex with his friends. Would he? Do men do that? "I didn't know that."

"I'll have my assistant check with him to confirm his schedule. If he's available, we'll contract him to pilot for you."

I rub my hands over my face knowing that there's little I can do to stop this freight train. If Gabriel wants Landon to fly me to California on a private jet, who am I to complain?





Chapter 16


"I caught an extra job for next Friday." Landon's gaze leaves my face to travel around my barren apartment. "You already know about it though, don't you?"

The grin on his face adds fuel to the teasing lilt of his voice. He takes a step towards me, pulling his fingers through the belt loops of my faded jeans so he can press my body into his.

"I don't know what you're talking about. What extra job?"

His eyes fall to the sheer white sweater I'm wearing. I had pulled it over my head as soon as I got out of the shower after he called. The white bra I have on underneath it is clearly visible but judging by the look on his face, I doubt he cares.

"I'm flying the most beautiful woman in the world to Los Angeles for an important meeting."

I try not to let the blush I feel running through me reach my cheeks but it's futile. I bow my head down. "The most beautiful woman in the world?"

He pulls me even closer to him. "She has thick brown hair. The most intense green eyes I've ever seen and her body is amazing."

I've never been great at accepting compliments. I've also felt they were offered in the spirit of pity. I know I'm attractive but beautiful is generally a word reserved for women like my cousin, Ivy. I'm pretty or cute. I like what I see when I look in the mirror and if someone asked me before today if I'd change something about myself, I would have had a list too long to rattle off in a minute or two.

It's not that way now. Today, as I dart my eyes up to meet his, I know that he does see me as beautiful. He's not saying the words to assure me or to bait me into his bed or my own. He's saying the words because it's what he sees when he looks at me.

"Do you do work for Gabriel often?" I may enjoy the compliments, but a change of subject will help calm my racing heart.

"Not that often anymore." He brushes his lips against my forehead. "He has other pilots on staff. He offered me this because he knows it means a lot to me."

"It means a lot to me too," I counter. "Flying isn't my favorite thing but I'm looking forward to this trip."

"You'll be more comfortable." He leans back and down so he can look directly into my eyes. "Flying on a private jet is a completely different experience than flying commercial. You'll see what I mean once you board."

I close my eyes not wanting to give anything away. I lost count of how many times I've flown on a private jet. It was a regular occurrence at one point. It was the easiest way for Ansel to hide our relationship from the glaring lenses of the paparazzi and the hopes and dreams of his ardent fans.

My weekly routine while I was still in college was almost always the same. I'd fly out of Logan Airport in Boston late on Friday nights after classes were done for the week. The pilot would head off to wherever Ansel had to make an appearance or perform and while he captured the imaginations of his fans, I'd sit in a hotel room booked under an alias and study.