In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(80)

“Do you live together?” I asked her, without turning.

The other woman didn’t answer, and I assumed the worst.

There was a table by the elevator. I removed my necklace and watch with trembling hands. I laid them on the table carefully, but they still made a loud clanking sound.

I couldn’t get into the elevator fast enough when it finally opened. It was only then that I turned.

On a landing above, I saw that James had just emerged from his bedroom, immaculately dressed for his date. He was frozen in place, taking in the sight of the two of us below. He seemed to register something in my face.

“Bianca, wait,” he said, panic in his voice, his eyes gone wild. He was running down the stairs in a frantic burst as the the elevator doors slid mercifully shut.

I spent the ride down taking deep breaths, trying not to be sick again. It would be too humiliating to leave his elevator stinking with my vomit. And I’d had enough humiliation for the night.

When I reached the street level, I nearly ran from the building. I stood at the edge of the sidewalk for a long moment, disoriented.

“Ms. Karlsson?” A voice called from my right, concern in the voice.

I turned and saw Clark approaching me cautiously, as though afraid I would bolt into the street.

“Let me give you a ride, Miss Karlsson. Please. You look upset.” He spoke quietly, his voice kind and worried. “I’ll call Mr. Cavendish, and he’ll take care of whatever is troubling you.”

At the mention of the name, I did bolt.

I ran across the crowded street without even looking, propelled by panic. I didn’t want to see him. Horns honked, but I didn’t care. A taxi had to careen to a halt mere inches from me.

I glanced inside. It was empty. I got in, dragging my suitcase topped with my flight bag in beside me. I directed the driver to my hotel.

He looked at me like I was crazy, but I reached into my flight bag, fished out my wallet, and thrust a twenty at him. I would normally never take a cab. It was an ungodly expensive way to get around. But at that moment, I would have paid just about anything just to get away. I wanted to get to my room and curl into a ball.

I knew Stephan would still be out. I debated calling him. I knew he would drop whatever he was doing and come back to comfort me. I wanted that. But I dismissed the idea almost immediately. It was a selfish instinct; to pull him away from a fun night and into my misery.

I got gracelessly out of the cab when it stopped. I felt around for my room key, relieved when I found the card still in a pocket. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even the the friendly hotel staff.

I nodded at the girl manning the front desk when she called out a greeting. I didn’t recognize her through my blurred haze of misery, even though she called me by name.

I moved quickly to the elevator.

I felt a wave of relief when I finally let myself into my room, bolting the door behind me. I’d had some crazy, paranoid idea that James was chasing me, trying to catch me before I could lock him out and never speak to him again.

I just leaned against the door for long minutes, trying not to lose it.

Of course, I’d known James had a long line of ex-lovers. Of course, I’d known he was a womanizer. Of course, I was a fool. When he’d told me he’d be exclusive, I had just believed him, as though a man like that wouldn’t be a consummate liar.

I left my suitcase at the door, deliberately making myself go through the usual motions.

I pulled the top cover off of the bed, tossing it into a heap in the farthest corner of the room. I knew they never washed those things. I set the alarm by the bed, and then the one on my phone, plugging it in to charge.

I saw that I had eight missed calls. I just turned off the vibrator as well as the ringer, so that it wouldn’t wake me with calls or messages. I’d set it up to only make noise as an alarm.

I unpacked the minimum. Just toiletries and my extra uniform.

I moved to the adjoining door. Even though I had been spending the day away, we had arranged to adjoin, as usual. I opened my side, relieved to see that Stephan had already done the same. I

heard movement in his bathroom, and jumped.

“Ste-Stephan?” I called, really hoping it was him.

He strode out of his bathroom at my call. He was shirtless, wearing only low-slung navy cargo shorts. “Hey, Buttercup. Some knucklehead got barf on my shirt, so I had to come back to change.” He moved towards me as he spoke, drying his hair briskly with a towel.

He got a look at my face and froze. Scant moments later I was being enfolded into his arms. He held my face to his bare chest, stroking my hair.

“Oh, Bee, what is it?”

I had managed not to cry until then, but his sympathy undid me. I heard a broken sob escape from my throat, as though from a distance. I never cried, especially not like this. I wet his chest with my hopeless sobbing.

How had I let this happen? I asked myself, again and again. I had been so certain that I wouldn’t let my heart get involved. But in the end, I’d had no control, even in that.

I felt a horrible crush of guilt as I realized that Stephan cried with me. He had always been like that. He couldn’t watch me suffer and not suffer himself.

“Shh, it will be okay,” he told me, his voice soft and soothing, despite his tears. “We will survive it, Bianca. Whatever it is, we’ll survive it together.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR