Chapter 13
CARI
I’ve never flown first class before, and it feels like I’ve stepped into a different universe.
Not only is Jett’s bodyguard traveling with us, but everything is sleek, luxurious, and intimidating. Even Brooke seems to sense I’m out of my depth. She looked at me earlier, wide-eyed, when I asked her if they always handed out noise-canceling headphones to everyone. They look like they cost more than my grocery bill. And when she told me the seats turned into actual beds, my mouth fell open.
“Is this your first time on a plane?” she asked, her innocent voice cutting through me.
“No,” I replied, though the truth is I haven’t flown much. Just once, when I was ten. Mom and I flew to Hawaii to visit Aunt Scarlett who was living there at the time. I was so excited about the whole trip—the plane ride, the time with my aunt, the beaches, everything. It was also the time I nearly drowned. And when we came back, I remember being just as thrilled to get back on that plane, but we had a lot of turbulence. I got scared. People screamed when the pilot told us to fasten our seatbelts. I still remember the fear in my mom’s eyes.
That was the last time I flew anywhere.
Now, here I am, completely out of place. From the moment we boarded, the flight attendants have pampered us, offering things I didn’t even know you could get on a flight. I feel like I don’t belong in this world—like I’ve stumbled into a life that isn’t mine.
We fasten our seatbelts and prepare for takeoff. As the plane glides along the tarmac, I start to have palpitations. Beads of sweat break out along my hairline. My insides hollow out. As the plane speeds up, Brooke looks out of the window, marveling when the plane leaves the ground and ascends into the sky. I close my eyes and grip the armrest, as fear engulfs me. I relive that last flight—the screams are loud in my head, and I see my mom’s scared eyes again. My eyes squeeze shut, lost in my own private hell as I try to breathe through it and find a place of calm.
But then I feel something warm on my hand and I hear Jett’s voice. I must be dreaming again.
“Did you remember to bring the Steele reports with you?” he asks. I slowly peel my eyes open, and am shocked to see my boss. He’s crouching on the floor, staring up at me, his eyes filled with concern. His fingers are softly placed over my death-grip on the armrest. “Wh-what?” I manage to say, wondering what he’s doing here. I’m shocked to hear him talking about work.
“Sir, we’re still taking off. Please return to your—” A flight attendant hovers by us.
Jett barely glances at her. “I’m in the middle of something. Please leave.” Her mouth falls open, but she returns to her jumpseat. It seems everyone does as he commands.
My breathing is fast and shallow. “Did you … ask me for a … report? ” Or did I imagine that?
His blue eyes lock onto mine. “The Steele reports. I need them tomorrow. Did you bring them?”
My mind rushes to the list he gave me, and I’m certain I packed everything on it. I nod. “I’m … I’m sure I did.” But now he has me second guessing myself and I try to remember what I packed.
“Daddy, is Cari scared?” Brooke asks.
“She’s fine, sweetie.” He smiles at his daughter.
“You look sick,” Brooke says, stroking my arm, completely unaware of the panic I’m trying to cover.
I breathe in slowly, then out slowly. “I’m … okay.” My voice is shaky and unconvincing.
“She’s going to be fine,” Jett assures her. “The report, Cari. Think. Did you bring it? Because I need it to present to the CEO tomorrow.”
My mind rushes back to the office, and now I’m worried. I never forget anything, and he’s never had to ask me something like this. He knows I’m organized, that whatever he asks, I do. “I did. I’m pretty sure I did.”
“And the MacPherson binder?”
I try to recall the list of things Jett asked for. I nod. “I’m pretty sure I—”
“The Hogarth files?”
He’s bombarding me with so many questions and I try to think, worried that I might have forgotten something. No, I packed everything he wanted. “I did. I got everything.”
His sleeves are rolled up, and his forearms flex slightly. Hot damn.
Is he stroking the back of my hand?
I glance down, and find that he is.
The seatbelt sign turns green, and I hear a message saying we can unfasten our seatbelts. “Look Daddy, clouds!” Brooke points out of her window.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Jett gets up off the floor, moving his hand away from mine. “Relax,” he says, pinning me with his gaze. “We’re up in the air now. It’s going to be okay.”
My jaw drops and I watch as he brushes his hand over his trousers, removing the dust, not that I can see any. His cologne wafts over me again and I watch, dumbfounded, as he ruffles Brooke’s hair and tells her he needs to get back to his work.
I watch him walk away, so tall and commanding to his seat a few rows in front of us. Just before he sits down, he turns and glances at me. My heart leapfrogs in my chest and I look down at my lap, hating that he caught me staring at him again. I mentally go through the list he gave me yesterday and try to remember if I got everything he needed.
What a thing to ask me, now of all times.
JETT
Dex needed the family jet, so here we are, flying first class. I hate flying commercial. I hate being cramped, surrounded by strangers. It’s suffocating. I’ve made sure the seat next to me is empty—paid for it, in fact—because that’s the only way I can tolerate this. Still, it’s a last resort.
With my brother off handling business in London, I had no other choice.
But, in hindsight, it’s not entirely a bad thing. Cari’s not in her usual office attire. She looks different—more relaxed, less buttoned up. Like she did at Brooke’s party. Something about seeing her like this, out of the usual professional setting, catches me off guard.
I glanced over to check that she and Brooke were okay during takeoff, but I saw Cari, her face pale, her eyes closed, gripping the arm rest as if her life depended on it. She has a fear of flying. I didn’t think she had a fear of anything.
I rushed to her side instantly and tried my best to distract her. With Cari, I know that means talking about work. Putting her on alert that she might have forgotten something important.
It seemed successful.
So far the trip is going smoothly. My little cherub has been on cloud nine ever since I told her Cari was coming. She hasn’t even asked about Anna, which worries me. ? Anna took care of Brooke for over a year, and yet my daughter doesn’t seem to miss her. Maybe that’s on me. I’ve had a different nanny for Brooke every year since Sophia passed. Three years, three different people. That can’t be normal.
My exes used to tell me I’m too demanding. Too demeaning. An arrogant, patronizing asshole to the people who work for me. Maybe there’s some truth in that, but I can’t focus on it now. Every nanny I’ve hired eventually gets fed up and leaves for an easier life. I’ll deal with hiring someone new once we’re back. I’ll have to choose more carefully this time. I’ll ask Cari to handle the interviews.
I look over at Cari and Brooke again. Brooke wiggles out of her seat to explore the plane, passing me and planting a kiss on my cheek as Cari dutifully follows her, like she always does—reliable, steady.
I’m halfway through my report when Brooke taps my arm. “Daddy, the washrooms are fun!” she exclaims, her little face glowing with excitement.
I blink at her, momentarily thrown by the joy radiating off her. “Fun?” I ask, trying to shift my attention to her.
“Yeah! The doors are bendy!” Her eyes are wide with wonder, as if this new discovery is the most exciting thing in the world.
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. She’s so innocent, so free from the burdens of adult life. No worries about business deals, shareholders, or family drama. She doesn’t know how complicated the world can be. She doesn’t have to deal with the moron who is her grandfather, as she doesn’t see him often. She only knows that she has me—and my brothers.
But is that enough?
That thought gnaws at me, keeping me up at night. I ponder where the past five years have gone, and how before I know it, my angel will be a teenager. How am I supposed to help her navigate those years? My father’s words echo in my mind, no matter how much I try to ignore them.
Brooke needs a mother.
I look at her now, so happy and carefree, and it hits me how little time I spend with her. Yes, I see her every day, but it’s fleeting. Just moments. This trip is supposed to be different. I promised myself I’d make more time for her, that I’d be more present. This is supposed to be our time together.
“She’s obsessed with the toilets,” Cari says, her voice soft as she approaches me. The pen I’m holding slips from my fingers, falling to the floor. Before I can reach for it, she bends down, scooping it up.
I wish she hadn’t. The way she leans over gives me a glimpse of her pink satin bra. My throat tightens as I tear my gaze away.
“Here.” She hands the pen back to me with a slight smile, looking relaxed for once. Her hair’s down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders, not pulled back into the neat, businesslike bun she usually wears. It makes her look softer, more approachable. Beautiful.
I glance at my report, desperate to refocus on numbers and projections, anything to distract myself from the direction my thoughts are heading. This trip is going to be a problem. I knew it the second I asked her to come. I should’ve hired someone else. Anyone but her.
“Can you stay close to Brooke?” I ask, my voice rougher than intended.
Her expression falters and she nods before going back to Brooke, her presence lingering long after she’s gone.
I feel like a complete idiot.
Cari didn’t want to go on this trip. She tried to get out of it, and I practically forced her into coming. I dangled her resignation in front of her, used it to push her into agreeing. What kind of person does that?
I’m a moron. A total, selfish moron who uses people.
And now, the last person I should be on an island with is coming to Bermuda with me.
CARI
Brooke is obsessed with the washrooms.
She keeps running back and forth, fascinated by the sliding doors and the way the toilet flushes. It’s strange for a kid to be so excited about a washroom, but I get it. I was excited about everything the first time I flew, too. Even though this isn’t her first time flying, I wonder if it’s her first experience on a commercial airline. Jett usually takes the family jet.
The family jet. I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like—a private plane with rooms, sofas, and tables, like an apartment in the sky. That’s Jett’s world. A world I’ll never fit into.
I went shopping with Eliana and my aunt and bought a few outfits that will hopefully be fine, given that I don't know what to expect on this trip. Whatever happens, I’m definitely not taking any of Aunt Scarlett's advice.
Instead, I'm just thankful that I'm going to spend most of my time with Brooke. Jett says she likes to spend time at the beach.
But I’m better prepared now, having picked a good, sturdy tankini top and shorts as a bathing suit. My aunt and bestie, however, sneaked the tiniest, barely-there bikini into my suitcase. I already had some nice dresses, but they made me buy a couple more.
I lean against the wall while I wait for Brooke and let my imagination run wild. Replaying a completely fictional scene in my head, like I am prone to do, heat creeps up my neck. In my mind, Jett cups my face, gently unbuttoning my blouse. It’s ridiculous, really. Mom always said I had an overactive imagination.
“Hot?” Jett’s voice breaks into my thoughts, startling me.
I whip around, my heart leaping into my throat. Holy hellfire.
“A little,” I manage to say, lying through my teeth while my heart beats wildly in my chest. This man is so up and down. I didn’t like the tone he used on me earlier, asking me to stay close to Brooke.
His eyes trail down towards my collarbone, before quickly snapping up to my face. “Odd. The AC’s blasting. You sure you’re not coming down with something?”
“No. I’m good.” I raise a hand to my neck, trying to steady myself. The fantasy of Jett unbuttoning my blouse vanishes in an instant, replaced by the all-too-real version of him standing in front of me, hands in his pockets, and looking way too good for my sanity.
This is dangerous. Being thousands of miles away with him, without Eliana’s sensible advice to keep me grounded, is going to be torture. I can already feel myself slipping, letting my imagination take over. If Jett hasn’t figured out my feelings for him by now, he will by the end of this trip. I turn toward the washroom and knock on the door, eager to escape. “Brooke, hurry up, sweetie.”
But instead of Brooke, a pretty young woman walks out, tall and svelte, flashing me a dazzling smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought …” I stammer, spinning around in embarrassment, only to see there’s another washroom directly across the aisle. Of course. I rush over, but it’s empty. My heart sinks.
Where is she?
I dart back to our seats, and there she is—Brooke, sitting happily, coloring like nothing happened. “Brooke,” I breathe, relief flooding me, especially after her father told me to stay close to her. I don’t seem to be doing a great job of that. “I thought you were still in the washroom.”
She barely glances up. “I was.”
I sit down, feeling like a complete fool. I’ve lost my mind, and we haven’t even landed yet.
Just as I’m settling back into my seat, Jett walks over, a frown on his face. I shrink further into my seat.
“There you are,” he says to Brooke, his voice light with relief.
I force myself to meet his eyes, knowing I messed up. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s a plane, Cari. She can’t go far. Relax.” His tone is calm, almost soothing, but it doesn’t stop the embarrassment from burning through me.
Then, the pretty woman who came out of the washroom appears beside Jett. “I see you have an empty seat next to you.” She nods in the direction of where he was sitting.
He smiles politely. “I do.”
She gives him a flirtatious smile and sashays past us. Has he already found a replacement for Alicia?
“I'll come by later, sprout,” he says to Brooke, and leaves us.
My stomach twists as I watch him. My torture begins, causing my mind to spiral as I imagine all sorts of scenarios—Jett, the pretty woman, the mile-high club.
Great, just what I need—more fuel for my overactive imagination.
I let out a long breath. This trip is going to be a disaster. I can feel it already.