Strangers: A Novel(85)
Joanna stares at her knife for a while, then puts it aside and gives me a candid look. “Erik, I really don’t know. But what’s important for now is that we’re safe. Don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I say quietly, feeling completely despondent all of a sudden. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion after all the things that have happened over the past days. I feel like crying, and all I want to do is curl up into a corner and pull a blanket over my head, and neither see nor hear anything.
“If you’ve finished your breakfast, our relaxation room is at your disposal next door,” says the young man, who must have noticed the look on my face.
We sit at the table for about another half hour. Joanna uses the time to tell me about Australia. Most of it I know already, but I don’t interrupt her. I’m happy to play the role of the listener and not have to think about anything for a while.
The relaxation room turns out to be a comfortable space with enormous leather armchairs that turn into bed-like loungers upon reclining. We’ve barely even made ourselves comfortable before the young man brings us pillows and blankets and assures us he’ll be there if we require anything else. Less than ten minutes later, I’m asleep.
* * *
When Joanna wakes me, it takes me a while to get my bearings in this strange environment. Judging by her tousled appearance, she’s only just woken up herself.
“It’s late afternoon, six o’clock, almost.”
“What?” I sit up with a jerk. “That means we’ve slept for seven hours.”
“Yeah. Guess we needed it. And I probably would have kept sleeping if they hadn’t woken me up. My father’s plane is just landing.”
There it is again, the feeling of being a stranger. Very soon I’m going to be sitting inside the private jet of a man I don’t know in the slightest. A billionaire. Who is also Joanna’s father. How’s he going to respond to me, I wonder?
“There they are,” Joanna says. She’s in front of the glass window that offers a view of the airfield. I walk over to her and behold the sleek, white aircraft that’s just reached its allocated space on the tarmac and is coming to a standstill.
“Well then…” I can’t think of anything else to say right now.
Ten minutes later, an airport staff member approaches us. Accompanying him are two men who’d look like regular, athletic businessmen if it weren’t for the short hair and the serious expression both are wearing on their faces.
“Gavin,” Joanna says, sighing, the relief audible in her voice. “If you only knew how glad I am that you’re here,” she continues in English.
The man nods at her, without so much as a glance at me. “Our flight conditions were ideal. We’ll take off again in two hours.”
“Good. By the way, this is Erik, my fiancé. My father told you he’d be accompanying us.”
The two dark eyes focus on me, seem to bore into me for a brief moment, then look away again.
“No, Joanna. Your father specifically said: not him.”
39
At first I think I must have misheard. Gavin is standing there in that relaxed way of his; his eyes are friendly, but he’s not fooling me with that. Sure, he’d take a bullet for me, but there was no way I could talk him into doing something that contradicts my father’s orders.
OK. I’ll get this cleared up right away.
“I spoke to Dad on the phone yesterday, and again a few hours ago—it’s already been decided that Erik is coming with me. You’ve misunderstood.”
Not a muscle twitches in Gavin’s face, but there’s something not unlike sympathy in his expression. “I’m certain that I haven’t. We have instructions to bring you home, just you. No matter what the circumstances.”
Gavin has been working for my family since I was fourteen. He was there on all of our vacations—and on most of my dates. One of two silent shadows sitting at the table next to me, keeping an eye on the entrance of the restaurant while I would hold hands with my respective companion. I never managed, not one time, to convince Gavin to give me some privacy for even half an hour.
Although that was a long time ago.
I take Erik’s hand. “He’s coming with me. I’ll be responsible for him.”
A soft, barely visible shake of the head. “Sorry as I am to say it, Joanna, you won’t be responsible. And it’s not your decision.”
Despite Gavin’s Australian twang, Erik can understand every word, there’s no question of that. It only takes one glance at him to see that he understands exactly what’s going on here. I squeeze his hand tighter.
“I’m calling Dad,” I say to Gavin, and hope he can hear from the tone of my voice that his job will be on the line. “Hopefully that will clear things up. If I can’t reach him, it’s my orders that count, not his. And certainly not what you understand them to be.”
I let go of Erik’s hand and take a few steps to the side. It takes a few seconds before the call goes through. As I press the phone to my ear and listen to the dial tone, I try to get my unbridled rage under control, otherwise I won’t hit the right note with Dad. I’m half expecting him not to answer—he’s organized everything; now it’s up to his subordinates, and it’ll all run like clockwork. Like always.