The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(133)

You had these plans before he decided to waltz back in . . . stick to them.

I should call and thank him, though. I dial his number.

“Hello,” his sexy voice purrs down the line.

My stomach flutters at the sound of his voice. “Hi,” I breathe.

“Are you with Alan?”

“I am. Thank you for my rose.”

“So red is better?”

“Seems that way.” I feel my face blush in embarrassment.

“Mental note to never buy anything yellow ever again.”

I giggle, embarrassed.

“You have a good weekend,” he eventually replies.

“You too.”

“I’m not going to call you this weekend.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Your words are playing on my mind.”

“What words?”

“You told me not to force this between us.”

I listen.

“I’m stepping back.”

My heart drops. “You’re giving up?”

“No. Just the opposite; I’m making plans for our future. But I understand that you need time. Me forcing you to forgive me before you’re ready may not be the smartest move.”

I smile softly as I listen, hope blooming in my chest.

“You just call me whenever you want to speak to me,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And that could be fifty times a day. I’ll be waiting for your call like a lovesick schoolboy.”

I smile as I hang on the line . . . I really do want to see him this weekend.

No.

“Okay.”

“Goodbye, Emily.”

“Goodbye,” I whisper. I hang up, smell my rose, and smile sadly out the window as New York flies by. I feel like I’m in a subspace. Caught between two men, each with their own memory—one of Jameson Miles’s coldhearted dismissal and the other of playful Jim’s overwhelming love. Each time I feel myself leaning toward one, the other jumps in my way. I’m not sure how to turn this off, but I need to work it out . . . and sooner rather than later.

Half an hour later the limo pulls up at the airport, and Alan opens my door. I clutch my rose in my hand, knowing that I can’t take it in.

Alan retrieves my bag from the trunk. “Would you like me to carry this in for you?” he asks.

“No, thank you.” I look down at my rose. I feel strangely attached to it and can’t stand the thought of it dying. “Would you be able to put the rose in some water for me, please?” I ask him.

He smiles warmly. “Of course.” He takes it from me. “I’ll put it in water at Mr. Miles’s apartment for you.”

“Thank you.” I shrug, suddenly feeling stupid. “Goodbye, Alan.”

“I’ll see you on Sunday when we pick you up.”

“Okay.” With a meek wave, I make my way to the check-in desk, and surprisingly there’s no line today. “Hello. I have a booking for Emily Foster.” I slide my license across the desk to the check-in clerk.

“Hello.” She types my name into her computer. “Ah yes, Ms. Foster. I see you have amended your booking to first class.”

I frown. “No.”

She rechecks the details. “Yes, your two tickets were upgraded late last night.”

“Two tickets?”

“Yes, a second was booked, and then they were both upgraded.”

Jameson.

“Oh, I see. Okay, thank you.” I collect my ticket and walk through security and make my way to the bar. I have nearly two hours before my flight leaves.

“What will it be?” the bartender asks as I take a seat.

“A margarita, please.”

I text Jameson.

Mr Miles, thank you for the upgrade.

It is very much appreciated.

Tell me, was the second seat for you or to make sure I didn’t sit next to someone else?

My drink is delivered, and a text bounces back.

My dear Miss Foster, I am outraged that you would think I could be so calculating.

Of course, I don’t want you sitting next to anyone else.

I know how irresistible you are.

xoxox

I smile as I sip my drink, and another text arrives.

Although, if I wasn’t playing hard to get and being non-pushy. I would have taken you on the company jet and initiated you to the real Miles High Club.

You wouldn’t walk for a week.

Enjoy the peaceful silence.

xoxox

I roll my lips to hide my smile, and I text back.

Goodbye Jameson.

Glad that your deviant behavior is still alive and well.

I was getting worried.

xoxoxo

A text comes straight in.

You have no idea.

And no watching Magic Mike, watch Grumpy Old Men instead.

It will make me more appealing.

xoxox

I sip my drink and find myself smiling goofily into space.

Things are going well . . . for the first time in a long time, I feel myself become a little excited for what’s to come.

Let’s see what happens.

I stare at the ceiling in the darkness from my bed. It’s midnight. My old bedroom brings a surprising comfort that I didn’t know I needed.

It’s great being here with my family, but New York seems so very far away.