The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(132)
He raises an eyebrow as if unimpressed. “Okay, bus it is.”
“You don’t have to walk me to work, Jameson. I’m quite capable of getting myself there.”
“I know; I just want to spend the twenty minutes with you. I’m not seeing you all weekend, remember?” He gives me a sexy wink, and my stomach does a nervous flip. We walk to the bus stop hand in hand.
“Have you heard anything more about Lara Aspin and Hayden?”
“No. They’ve been charged, but the court case won’t be for a while. I can’t believe you solved it. You don’t know how grateful I am to you.”
I smile, feeling proud of myself.
“How do you like your new job?” he asks.
I shrug. “It’s great.”
His eyes hold mine. “Great as in ‘really great,’ or great as in ‘it will do’?”
“Great as in ‘I’m getting used to it.’”
“Why don’t you come back to Miles Media?”
“No. I’ll be keeping our work lives separate from now on.”
“Hmm.” He frowns, unimpressed. “We’ll see.”
The bus arrives, and we make our way on. It’s crowded today, and I find a seat, but Jameson has to stand. He’s squashed between a smelly man and a woman who looks like she has rabies. I sit and watch him and the horror on his face as he watches the people around him. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Eventually the bus pulls to our stop, and he gets off in a rush.
“That’s it,” he scoffs as he brushes his suit off like the snob that he is. “No more fucking buses. We need to be disinfected right now. Did you see the people on that fucking bus?”
I giggle. “That was just a bad trip.”
“I mean it, Emily,” he snaps. “No more fucking buses. Alan is now your driver. Over my dead body are we catching another bus.”
“Yes, boss.” I smile as he takes my hand in his, and we begin our walk to work.
“What time does your flight leave tonight?” he asks.
“Three.”
His face falls. “You’re going early?”
“Yes. I have a half day today.”
“I was going to take you to the airport.” He frowns as he stares down at me. “I have a board meeting at four; I can’t get out of it.”
“That’s fine.”
“Shit . . . maybe I can cancel?”
“Jameson, it’s fine. You are not canceling a meeting to take me to the airport. Stop it. You will see me when you see me.”
He stares at me as he processes my words. “Alan will collect you.”
I nod, knowing that if I don’t agree, he will in fact cancel his meeting. “Okay.”
We arrive at my work, and he turns me toward him. “You’ll call me the minute you land?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll call you before I go to bed.”
He stares at me.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask.
“My brothers are all going to Vegas tonight.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They’re chasing booze and wild women.”
My face falls.
He wraps his arms around me. “I already have my wild woman; I’m not interested in what they are looking for.”
I smile up at him, surprisingly grateful that he’s not going.
“Will you miss me?” he whispers.
“Probably not.”
“You probably could try and be flirtier in our conversations, you know?”
“Could I?” Our lips touch, and he kisses me softly.
“Are you sure you have to go?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yes, Jameson.”
“I love you,” he whispers.
My heart somersaults in my chest at hearing those precious words. “Have a nice day.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
“But that’s all you’re getting.” I kiss him quickly and pull out of his arms. “Please stop pressuring me. I’ll call you tonight.”
He puts his two hands into his suit pockets and smiles sexily as he watches me walk into the building.
I get into the elevator with a hammering heart and flushed cheeks.
Why is he so damn gorgeous?
I walk out of work just after one o’clock and see the limo and Alan standing beside it. He smiles warmly and opens the back door as if gesturing for me to get in. I smile and make my way over to him. I haven’t heard from Jameson all day and wasn’t sure if Alan was in fact coming to collect me. “Hello.”
He smiles warmly. “Hello, Emily. It’s so lovely to see you.”
I get into the back of the limo and find a lone red rose on the back seat, waiting for me.
Oh.
I smile and inhale it deeply; a beautiful perfume fills the space. The car pulls out from the curb, and I get a vision of myself stomping on the yellow roses the other night. Maniac.
I was half hoping that Jameson would be in the car waiting for me. Should I even be going away right now? Isn’t sorting this out with him more important?
No.