Chapter 52
Tilda
My GPS tells me to take the next left, and I flex my grip on the steering wheel as I approach the tiniest airport I’ve ever seen.
Slowing, I turn into the driveway. Then I stop because there’s a chain link gate blocking my entry.
An older woman steps out of the little guard shack and approaches my truck.
Keeping my foot on the brake, I roll down my window. “Good morning.”
The woman smiles. “Morning. Name?”
She looks down at the tablet in her hands.
“Um, Matilda Wright.” I don’t know how security works in a place like this, but I figure I should use my official name.
“Gotcha.” The woman taps her screen, then lifts her gaze back to me. “Have you been here before?”
I shake my head.
“You’re leaving out of hangar five, off to the right.” She lifts her arm and points in that direction. “Park in one of the spots behind the building with the five on it. Then enter through the side door. Pilot’s already here.”
I force a smile. “Okay, thank you so much.”
“Have a nice flight.” She dips her chin, then walks back to the little guardhouse.
A moment later, the gate slides open.
Filled with stress and trepidation, I take my foot off the brake and roll forward.
It’s just the reading of the will.
When I got that first letter from Uncle Jack back in Vegas, telling me about the house and the twenty thousand dollars, I was shocked beyond belief. But I’ve had weeks to accept it. So even though today is going to be unpleasant, at least I won’t be taken off guard like the rest of my family.
I turn my truck to the right and coast toward building five.
For the hundredth time since the letter was delivered yesterday, I silently ask Uncle Jack why I have to be there today.
Because yes, I know what’s coming, which is good. But what’s not good is knowing that every single one of my relatives is going to have a total and complete meltdown when they find out Uncle Jack left everything to me.
Me. The pariah of the family.
I take a mindful deep breath as I pull into one of the six parking spots behind building five.
There are two vehicles. A black pickup truck, and a blue four-door something. One of which must belong to the pilot.
My stress increases as I force myself to exit my truck.
I make sure my keys are in my mini backpack, then I slip my arms through the straps, lock the truck doors, and slam my door shut.
I was stressed about my family when I was at the gate, but now that I’m looking around, I’m scared for an entirely different reason.
This is an airport for tiny planes.
Which is why that guard lady said my pilot is here. Because this is going to be a tiny little plane. And it’s going to literally be just me and the pilot.
I wipe my palms down the skirt of my dress.
Why would Uncle Jack book me a private plane?
Why wouldn’t he just get me a normal ticket out of a normal airport?
I don’t know much about planes. Hardly anything. But I’m pretty sure flying to Vegas in a windup toy is going to take longer than flying in a commercial jet.
I narrow my eyes at the sky.
Is that why I had to be here so ungodly early?
Then I think about how much longer it would take me to get to the Denver airport and to go through security… Maybe the travel time evens out?
Except this has to be way more expensive.
And scarier.
Don’t these small planes crash all the time?
I wipe my palms down my skirt again.
I can do hard things.
I repeat the words to myself as I follow the sidewalk around the corner of the building.
Would that count as doing a hard thing though? Dying in a plane crash? Because it’s not really me that’s doing it. It would be more of a thing that’s happening to me.
When I reach the side door halfway down the side of the building, I wipe my palms down my skirt for the final time, then I push open the door and step into the brightly lit airplane hangar.
And it’s exactly like the movies.
The building is wide with metal walls, a concrete floor, and an orange airplane sits beneath an open overhead door.
Voices come from the other side of the aircraft, but the people they come from don’t seem to notice my arrival.
I take a few steps farther into the hangar, but my black combat boots don’t make any noise, so I clear my throat.
The voices cut off, then a man in his sixties steps around the back of the plane.
He swings a towel onto his shoulder and grins at me. “Morning, Miss. You the passenger?”
I nod.
Okay, he looks seasoned.
I bet he’s flown this route a hundred times.
Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“Good.” He claps his hands together. “We just wrapped up, so perfect timing. Do you need to use the restroom before the flight?” He shrugs as he asks it, like he knows it’s an awkward question. “There’s no bathroom on the plane.”
I can’t stop myself from biting my lip as I look over at the plane.
I hadn’t even thought about the bathroom situation. But it doesn’t look like you could even stand up in the plane.
I nod. “In that case, yes, please.”
“I’ll show you—”
“I’ll take her.” A familiar deep voice cuts through the air.
I turn and see him walking over from the front of the plane.
“Ethan?”
“Ah, you know each other.” The older man keeps grinning.
I glance at him, then back at Ethan. “Are you going to Vegas too?”
He tilts his head but doesn’t answer my question, just holds his arm out in invitation. “Come on.”
I glance at the other man again, but he’s looking at Ethan. “I’ll double-check that nothing got added to the schedule, but you should have the runway to yourself for the next hour.”
“Good.” Ethan nods, then locks eyes with me. “Let’s go.”
I’m trying to follow the conversation, but my nervous system is working overtime right now.
I don’t want to fly in a tiny plane.
Ethan settles his hand low on my spine, below my backpack and just above my ass.
Heat soaks through the fabric of my dress, and the pressure finally gets my feet to move.
“So…” I look up at Ethan as we exit the hangar. “This can’t just be a coincidence, right? Did Uncle Jack hire you as like my bodyguard or something?”
His fingers flex. “Bodyguard?”
I try not to notice how handsome he looks in his dark red flannel as I nod. “Yeah, are you just supposed to keep an eye on me or something?”
He blinks down at me. “Starlight, I’m not going to Vegas as your bodyguard. I’m flying you there. As your pilot.”