3. The Layover
3 THE LAYOVER
Daphne
While preparing for takeoff in my father’s corporate jet, I couldn’t shake my feelings of inadequacy. This week, I traded the beautiful skyline of Chicago and my office facing Michigan Avenue for quiet in a tropical paradise. While my official reason for this pleasure trip was my cousin’s wedding, I needed a vacation and a sign that I was on the right track.
I spied other executive jets at O’Hare through the window, waiting for their owners to arrive. Where were they headed? What were we waiting for? At this rate, I’d miss my connection to Hawaii. We needed to get to LA. Why weren’t we already in the air?
“Excuse me,” I asked the passing flight attendant. “Can you tell me what the holdup is? Is there something wrong?”
“We’re waiting for one more, Miss Delphine,” she replied. “We will leave very soon.”
It wasn’t uncommon for someone else to hitch a ride on the company plane, but it was unusual when the entire family was already far from the mainland. Who else remained? A man’s head popped into the cabin, and I put it together.
Cal Markham arrived, dressed casually in jeans. Fuck!
“Daphne, how are you?” Cal asked. “Sorry. Traffic was a nightmare.”
“I’m fine,” I said, curt.
After our previous run-in, I wasn’t big on small talk. With his marketing plans, I could finish my job. I didn’t need to think about how it felt to kiss him or how I wanted to give into a base urge. While I wanted to shake it off, Cal’s slight stubble and warm smile didn’t help.
The flight attendant dimmed the cabin lights as Cal settled.
“Why did you get stuck here? I thought everyone went ahead.”
“Acquisitions hell,” I answered. “I agreed to stay back and wrap it up.”
“You poor thing,” Cal said, as if I was a child. “You drew the short straw.”
“Yes, boo-hoo me.”
Did he infantilize me even now? I was grown enough for him to kiss me, wasn’t I? His face twisted awkwardly. A pang of guilt shot through me.
“Sorry,” I sighed. “I just… I’m angry because Davey is already drunk off his ass and I feel like I got the thankless job.”
“You did. I get it,” Cal agreed, settling in and leaving me alone.
I worked through takeoff, only turning off my computer at cruising altitude. By then, Cal was asleep. I pitied him. He was a social chameleon, but he’d never be one of us. Long weekends skiing in Switzerland or a three-day-summits in Shanghai primed me to never make such a mistake. Why was he my father’s most trusted person? What made Cal so remarkable?
In LA, we travelled together from the private terminal back to slumming it in commercial. Cal took my luggage without asking if I wanted him to, which annoyed me.
“So, you’re in the bridal party?” Cal hoisted the garment bag holding my bridesmaid’s dress over his broad shoulders.
“Yes,” I answered. “Sarah is my closest cousin. And you are, too?”
He flashed a boyish grin. “I’m Erik’s best man, so yes.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It was always about the competition!
“I don’t need you to carry my dress,” I said.
“My mother would have my ass for not helping you, Daphne.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Would you like me to be rude and walk off, leaving you in the dust, Daphne?”
“No,” I answered. “I didn’t ask you to be rude .”
“Well, you don’t have your boyfriend—what is his name? Chase, Casey, Carlton? Where is he?”
I pulled the handle on my suitcase so hard it clicked loud as a gunshot.
“Chandler Walker,” I answered, wanting to chuck Cal across the room. “And he’s not here because he’s not my boyfriend.”
“What? Since when?”
A week ago, when he dumped me for telling him I didn’t want to get married and pop out babies within the next two years.
I set my jaw. “Is it really fair to ask such a personal question, Cal?”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You’re right. It was… inappropriate.”
“Given your past, I’d mind myself,” I reminded him.
“Point taken. I swear I didn’t mean anything by it.” Cal sounded pained.
We walked in silence towards the gate. While I wanted to strangle him, Cal projected genuine remorse. It wasn’t his fault Chandler broke my heart or that he feared my retribution.
“I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch,” I sighed. “Look, it’s fresh. It’s messy. And I don’t want to hear more about it because my mother has already said too much.”
“I’m sorry. Breakups are hard. And couple that with a wedding… I’m sure it’s worse for a girl than for a guy.”
“It’s not great.”
“I’d like to say the whole ‘you’ll die alone’ thing gets better, but in my late thirties, I’m still hearing the same song and dance, Daph. I can also say you’re far too young to worry about any of that. Ignore the haters. At your age, I was wild.”
“Tell my mother that,” I said. “She loves Chandler. She would be glad for us to get back together. The trouble is, we’re just in different places. Like you said, I’m young. I have no desire to settle down and have children. He wants them.”
I felt stupid. Why was I telling Cal all my secrets? Had I not learned my lesson the last time we tried to partner on something? We did not socialize outside of work or family parties. We were not friends, but he was so damn easy to talk to! And unlike everyone else in the inner circle at Delphine Holdings, his outsider status gave him a unique vantage point.
“Well, you’re about to be in paradise—for a few days with no consequences. Chin up, Daphne.”
I smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
* * *
Cal
We arrived at our gate to find our flight delayed.
“Well, we didn’t have to rush,” Daphne groaned.
“Yeah. Shit. That sucks.” I said it like I meant it, but didn’t.
Ever since I boarded the plane, Daphne gave me attitude. I went from worried I’d be fired to hopeful. Since I got under her skin, I knew she was still thinking about the kiss. So what if she nursed a breakup while stranded in the airport with me for a few more hours? I could work with that.
“Come on.” I waved. “There’s a lounge. We can eat a little and drink.”
“I need a fucking drink,” Daphne admitted, reluctantly following. “Take me there.”
I laughed until she called out sharply, “Wait!”
I turned to see her scowling.
“Can we please slow the fuck down, damn it?” She held out her hands. “I don’t want to walk with you. Give me my bag.”
She balled her tiny hands in fists.
I chuckled, finding her protests adorable. “Daphne, don’t be ridiculous. I was giving you shit. I’m just trying to help. I promise no speed walking.”
She dug herself deeper into the airport flooring. “You’re straight up laughing at me.”
“I was… you’re adorable when you swear. I never expect it. I laughed because it amused me.”
She let out a low growl of frustration. “Fine, if you will walk at my pace.”
“Scouts honor.”
She walked my way. “Why was there a delay? You are loving this, aren’t you?”
I restrained myself from mocking her grievances, “Daphne, you really do love to argue. Come on. I’ll get you fed and watered. Are you hangry?”
“Yes, I’m famished.” She groaned. “And I’ve not slept.”
“Why not?”
“I want to reset my clock. It’s a strategy everyone should adhere to.”
“I trust you have a system, but a nap won’t hurt you.”
“I am sleeping on the flight there.”
“Ah,” I said.
“I’m grumpy. I know. You are going to hate me by the end of this.”
“Nah. I’ve travelled with your parents enough, Daphne. You couldn’t possibly rival your mother’s level of eccentricity. Also, don’t forget who the women in my life are.”
She giggled. “Fair.”
“I shouldn’t laugh.”
Entering the lounge, Daphne flashed her frequent flyer elite status, and I didn’t bother. I got in free either way.
We approached the crowded buffet area.
I asked, “Drinks first?”
“Yes.”
Daphne dealt with a crush of taller businessmen. Her tiny frame went largely unseen. With my hand on her lower back, I guided her, breaking yet another rule. She didn’t bristle or react. Everything inside me wanted clarity on what she thought. I couldn’t read her.
We sat at the bar. She ordered whiskey, and I stuck to a martini.
“Yet, you did it. Why are men like that?” Daphne asked, head propped on arm, elbow on the bar top.
“I don’t know. It was the moment and what I felt at the time.”
“So, now the moment has passed, and you’re over it?” She swirled her drink seductively.
“I am neither over it nor smarter,” I admitted, my eyes never leaving hers.
Daphne fought her reaction, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away.
“You say that to me stone-cold sober?”
“I didn’t say it was smart .”
“Is it opportunism?”
“Nah. Maybe? But… you still come back to it. Why?” I implied she wasn’t over it, hoping to hear just that.
She snickered. “I’m going to get food.”
Nothing . She left, torturing me. Did she get off on being opaque about everything, or was this just a good poker face? It drove me crazy, but that was what she wanted. I didn’t like giving her all the power, but it solidified that I wasn’t taking advantage of her like I’d initially feared.
I watched her cross the lounge, hips swaying.
“She’s hot,” the bartender said. “You two… together?”
I sipped my drink. “She’s the daughter of a very powerful man. Trust me, you do not want to fly that close to the sun, dude.”
“By the end of the day, I predict you’re going to end up either fucking or scratching each other’s eyes out—daddy issues or not.”
“She doesn’t have daddy issues,” I snickered. “I do. Her dad is my boss.”
“Oh, man… you are so fucked.”
Indeed.
Daphne returned, setting a plate down. She took a sip of her drink, turned back to me, and said, “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. You just argue with me, Daphne. I never know what is going on.”
“Because I’m a mess. But what does it matter, Cal?” She put her hand on mine. “It wasn’t nothing, okay? I’m not a fucking robot, but if I threw myself at you, it’d only make it worse. For you, I mean.”
I couldn’t resist, freeing my hand to run it down her back—resting it too low on her ass. I leaned over, whispering, “I already told you I’m stupid, Daph. I want what I shouldn’t have—a woman who continues to put me in my place.”
She whispered back, “You like the abuse, Cal.”
I swirled my hand. “No, I suspect you do.”
Mouth gaping, she gazed back at me and shook her head. She said nothing, but she thought about it. She wanted to do more. I let it percolate.