Chapter 2 - Savannah #2
A flight attendant appears with a cart. “Can I get you anything? We have a selection of meals or drinks if you prefer.”
“Just water, please.” My voice sounds hollow.
She hands me a bottle, and I twist the cap. It doesn’t budge. I try again, harder this time, and the plastic digs into my palm, but the damn thing won’t open.
Of course. Of course I can’t even open a bottle of water.
A large hand reaches over and plucks the bottle from my grip. He closes his laptop and tucks it into the seat pocket. Then he twists the cap off with zero effort and hands it back to me.
“Thanks,” I manage, and it comes out breathy and embarrassing.
“Rough day?”
I take a sip of water, buying time. “Why are you being nice to me?”
His mouth curves into a smile, and oh God, that smile does things to my stomach. It’s knowing and warm and just the right amount of dangerous.
“Maybe I like helping damsels in distress.”
“I’m not in distress. I’m just…” I gesture vaguely at myself. “Having a moment.”
“A moment that involves deleting every photo on your phone?”
Busted.
“My boyfriend cheated on me.” The words tumble out. “Actually, my boyfriend and my best friend cheated on me. Together. Today. So yeah, I’m deleting him from existence.”
“Smart move.” He leans back in his seat, giving me his full attention. Those eyes steel-blue are completely focused on me. “What’s your name?”
“Savannah.”
“Ledger.” He extends his hand again, even though we technically already did this.
I shake it, and his grip is firm and warm and lingers just a second longer than necessary.
“So, Savannah. Running away to Vegas to forget?”
“Something like that.” I twist the water bottle in my hands. “My mom just died two months ago. She was my only family. So now I’m just…alone. And I can’t believe I’m telling a total stranger this. You could be some trafficker or porn agent looking at a very vulnerable woman.”
He laughs, rich and genuine. “Or I could be like that guy from Taken. The one who tells his daughter’s kidnappers he has a very particular set of skills.”
I blink. “You’ve seen Taken?”
“I have a son. We watch a lot of action movies together.”
“Okay, but what about…” I search for something more embarrassing. “Have you seen The Proposal? With Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds?”
“The one where she forces her assistant to marry her?”
My jaw drops. “How do you know that movie?”
He shrugs, that smile playing at his lips again. “I had to watch it for a potential business partner. She loved it, wouldn’t stop talking about it. So I watched it to have something to discuss during our meeting.”
“That’s…actually really smart.”
“I’m a practical man.”
“Well, you don’t have to force me to marry you,” I say, and the tequila is definitely talking now. “I’d do it on a whim.”
His eyebrow arches. “Would you now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“You barely know me. And you just got out of a relationship.”
“Mason was a dick.” I take another sip of water.
“It wasn’t even the first time he cheated.
He did it over a year ago, begged me to forgive and forget.
I did. That was my mistake. So yeah, I’d totally marry you on a whim.
You’re hot, smart, older, and clearly rich.
I mean, look at those shoes. Those are expensive shoes. ”
He glances down at his shoes, then back at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re basing marriage potential on my footwear?”
“Among other things.”
“Like?”
“You opened my water bottle. You watched The Proposal for business purposes. You’re checking a lot of boxes here, Ledger.”
“You’re something else.” He’s studying me now, and I feel exposed under that gaze. “How old are you, Savannah?”
“Twenty-five. You?”
“Forty-seven.”
“Damn.” It bursts out before I can stop it. “Sorry, that was rude. You just look really good for forty-seven. Like, really good. I look like a tired potato at twenty-five.”
“You’re not a potato.” His voice drops lower, and I feel it in my chest. “You’re beautiful. You’re natural. Your eyes have this warmth in them even when you’re sad.”
“That’s…” I swallow hard. “That’s a really nice thing to say to someone who just had the worst day of her life.
I got a job offer, you know?” I say, changing the subject before I do something stupid like climb into his lap.
“In New York. It’s a great company. Seventy-five thousand a year.
But it’s so far from Chicago, and I don’t know if I should take it.
It feels like running away from my mom’s memory. ”
“Or it’s honoring what she would have wanted for you.” His eyes hold mine. “Parents don’t sacrifice so their kids can stay stuck in the same place. They do it so their kids can fly.”
“You’re really good at this,” I whisper. “The pep talk thing.”
“I’m not a shrink, Savannah. Don’t mistake me for one.” Something dark flickers across his face. “But I know something about wanting the best for the people you care about.”
The flight attendant returns with drinks, and Ledger orders a whiskey. I probably shouldn’t have more alcohol, but when he offers me a sip, I take it.
The burn is different than tequila. Smoother. Richer.
We talk for hours. About his son, who’s twenty-two and is going to take over his business one day. About my mom and how she immigrated from Spain with nothing. About Vegas and hotel chains and dreams I didn’t know I had until he asked about them.
He’s easy to talk to. Too easy. Like we’ve known each other for years instead of hours.
At some point, my eyelids get heavy. The exhaustion, alcohol, and emotional weight of the day catching up with me.
“You should sleep,” Ledger says quietly.
“I’m fine.”
But I’m not fine. I’m so tired I could cry.
“Sleep, princess,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”