Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
sam
The wine between us was almost gone, but it wasn’t really about the wine anymore. It was more about the ritual, the small act of filling and refilling, of staying in the moment. Of saying without saying, ‘I’m not ready to leave yet’.
He tilted the bottle, trying to pour the last of it into my glass, and raised his brows when only a couple of drops fell out. I smirked. “Well, that’s tragic.”
He looked over at the bartender. “Should we?” I leaned in, just enough to feel the tension shift. “I guess we’ll have to share another one. It would be rude not to.”
He chuckled softly, flagging the bartender with a small nod. “Rude is definitely not my brand.” When the new bottle arrived, he poured each of us a fresh glass. The night felt easy now. The bar was full, but our corner felt like its own orbit.
“So,” I said, resting my chin lightly on my hand, “earlier you said this trip was your reset before something big. What’s the big thing?
” He hesitated, just slightly. Not enough to be suspicious, just enough to feel careful.
I need him to say it. “I’m taking on a new role,” he said.
“It’s corporate. A very well-established company.
It’s not my usual pace, but… it was time to make a change. ”
“Let me guess.” I sipped my wine. “You used to be a start-up guy. Who dressed up with hoodies, was addicted to cold brew, and had fifteen-hour days?”
He laughed. “Guilty. Though I always liked button-downs. Even in the hoodie years.” I tilted my head. “What kind of company?”
“Tech. We built software for real-time inventory tracking. Exciting stuff, I know.”
“But you made it work?”
“Yeah. We scaled. Sold. I stepped down last year.”
“And now you're, what, bored?” He shrugged, but I saw the flicker in his expression. “Not bored. Just… ready for something bigger. Or maybe just different.”
Different. Right. Something like Hayes. I nodded, letting silence stretch just long enough to make him shift in his seat. “Sounds like you’ve been busy for a while.”
He looked down at his glass. “For way more than a decade. I turned thirty-eight this year, and I haven’t had a real vacation since my honeymoon, which was almost eight years ago.”
That stopped me. Not because it was dramatic, but because it was honest. I don’t want to ask about his marriage, but I don’t see a ring, not even a tan line on his finger.
Anyway, I don’t care about that.
“Yikes,” I said. “I don’t even remember the last time I stayed in one city for more than a week, let alone a relationship.” He gave me a sideways look. “You travel that much? Outside of work, of course?”
“Every month. My life basically fits in a carry-on. If you don’t count my shoes.”
“And you like it that way?”
I smiled. “I like not being expected to sit still.” He nodded, slowly. Like he understood that more than he let on.
Then he looked at me, eyes warm. “Can I ask you something without sounding like an old man?”
“That’s a dangerous opener.”
He laughed. “How old are you?”
I gasped theatrically. “Oh my god. You’re thirty-eight, and you still don’t know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age?”
His expression tightened in mock guilt. “Noted.” I swirled the wine in my glass, grinning. “I’m twenty-six.”
“Good age.”
“You make it sound like I’m a cheese.”
He really laughs now, “I mean that in the best way.”
I took another sip of my wine, letting the flavor settle on my tongue. The wine was smooth, deep, and warm. Like this night, unexpected, but settling in all the right places. And I couldn’t stop thinking about the headline burning into my brain.
Theo Jones, CEO of Hayes International.
He didn’t know who I was. And I wasn’t planning on telling him either. He took another sip of wine, watching me over the rim of his glass. “Okay, your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“To tell me what you studied before you decided to become a professional city-hopper.” I smiled, setting my glass down. “I majored in Art, History, and Languages.”
His brow lifted. “Double major?”
“And a master’s.” He blinked. “Alright, overachiever.”
“I contain multitudes.”
“So… history, art, Italian, French, maybe even German? And now you hand out hot towels in the sky.” I gave him a look. “Hey, those towels are a luxury experience.”
He smirked. “So, why the flight attendant thing?”
“Because I didn’t want a desk job. Because I love airports.
I like seeing the world and leaving before it gets too complicated.
” I paused. “And maybe because doing something completely different than what was expected felt… liberating.” He didn’t press, but I could tell he understood.
“What about you?” I asked. “You said your last vacation was your honeymoon.” He nodded.
“Yeah. I got married pretty young. Didn’t last long. ”
“May I ask, what happened?” His tone didn’t shift. He didn’t dodge the question or make it dramatic. He just… said it.
“She cheated,” he said simply. “With someone I used to consider a friend. We were already falling apart, but that was the final straw.”
My fingers paused around the stem of my glass. “I’m sorry, that’s awful.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I don’t regret it, I learned a lot. But I wouldn’t do it again.”
“So what do you do now?”
“Now I date when I want to. I keep it simple.” Emotionless, yes, but not cold. Just factual, and a bit too honest. It was like he’d practiced holding truth without weighting him down. Not a lot of people could do that. I didn’t know whether to admire him for it or feel sorry.
“And you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “What does your love life look like?”
I smirked. “You are a very curious man.”
“I’m thirty-eight. It’s allowed.”
“It’s messy,” I admitted. “Fun, sometimes. Nonexistent, other times. I mean, being in a different city every few days doesn’t exactly scream emotional availability.”
“That’s one way to avoid drama.”
“I don’t avoid drama. I just like to pick the kind I can walk away from when it gets too much to handle.” He chuckled. “That’s fair.”
There was a pause, not long enough to feel awkward, but long enough to make me hyperaware of how close we are.
His hand brushes his glass, mine brushes mine. The air between us felt warmer now. Then the bartender appeared in front of us with a perfect, untimely smile. “Need anything else?” she asked, her eyes trained directly on him. Theo looked up. “We’re good for now, thanks.”
She gave him a slow, unnecessary smile before walking off, one last look over her shoulder. I tilted my head toward him. “She’s definitely interested.” He blinked. “What?”
“The bartender.” He glanced at me, then looked back down at his glass. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, you’re such a liar.” He smirked. “Would it matter if she were?”
“Not really,” I said, leaning in a little. “But, I was about to order dessert, and now I feel like I’m competing with someone who knows how to use a corkscrew.”
He laughed, the sound deep and low. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Good,” I said, clinking my glass lightly against his. “Because I don’t like to share bottles or attention.”
“But we’re sharing a second bottle…” Our eyes held just long enough for the mood to shift again. Now a bit lighter, maybe even a bit bolder, a little more dangerous. “To be fair, we’ve been sharing only this one. The other one was yours,” I added.
I flagged the bartender for dessert, crème br?lée for me, nothing for him, and we kept sipping the wine like we had nowhere else to be. I mean, I don't know about him, but I didn’t. Rose was with some flight attendants and the pilot, whom she swears she hates, so I was free.
The bar was quieter now. Most of the groups had moved toward the lounge or spilled onto the street. Our conversation had wandered, places we loved, flights gone wrong, the weird things people do when they think no one’s watching.
Then the bartender returned.
She placed the dessert in front of me, then slid a folded napkin toward Theo with a casual smirk.
“I’m off the clock,” she said, tapping it with one red-painted nail.
“In case you get bored later. My apartment is two blocks away.” Before she walked off, she looked at me, then back at him.
“You can bring her too,” she said so casually that I nearly choked on the first bite of the br?lée.
Theo let out a short chuckle, picked up the napkin, and tucked it under his glass, saying thank you to her.
I gave him a look. “Are you this open to sleeping with strangers?”
He shrugged, calm as ever. “What? Who said I’m open to sleeping with her?”
“Well, you said thank you,” I say, playing with what’s left of the dessert.
“I was being polite,” he said, but he had a very quirky smile on his face.
“The invitation included me, and you didn’t even ask. That was rude.” He laughed, like actually laughed, and I found myself grinning in spite of it. “I’m sorry, do you want an invitation?” he asked, eyes catching mine.
“To her bed, or to yours?”
“Well,” he said, finishing his glass, “I can’t offer hers. She already did. And besides, I only extend invitations to my bed.”
I swirled the spoon in the melted sugar, meeting his gaze. “So, are you extending one or…?”
His voice was low, steady. “Do you want me to invite you to my bed, Sam?”
The way he said my name. It did something to me.
I felt the heat between my legs and down in my stomach. I held his gaze for a beat, let the tension stretch just long enough to feel it settle in my chest.
“I’m flattered,” I said, soft but playful. “But I don’t sleep with my passengers.”
“Good thing I’m not one anymore.”
“I’m not cleared for technicalities.” He smiled again, slower this time. A bit measured. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.
My phone buzzed against the bar. I glanced down.
Rose: We’re heading to the tower, come sparkle with us
I smiled and looked back at Theo, still tracing the rim of his wine glass with one finger, like he wasn’t in a rush to be anywhere else. “Wanna go watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle?” I asked, casually, like I wasn’t fully expecting a polite no. He looked at me like he was recalibrating. “When?”
“Erm… right now?” I grinned.
He paused, then nodded. “Sure.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. Let me grab the check.” He slid his card onto the bar and looked at the bartender. “Can we take a bottle to go?” She blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Sure.” He turned back to me and winked at me.
“Figured you weren’t done judging my wine preferences yet.” I shook my head, smiling as I grabbed my coat and the dessert spoon one more time for good measure.
We met the rest of the group just outside the station. Rose spotted me first, practically bouncing in her boots.
“Yay, you came!” she waved, then narrowed her eyes at Theo beside me. “And …you brought—”
“Rose,” I said with a grin, interrupting her, “Meet 1A. Or well, Theo.” He gave a small wave, warm but cool. “Nice to meet you.”
Rose’s eyes flicked to me, amused. “You’re taller outside the plane.”
“So I’ve been told,” Theo said, ever the diplomat. We didn’t linger too much. We just shared a few smiles, brief introductions, and a little awkward shuffle as the rest of the crew clocked in on who he was and how closely we walked.
But no one asked about it.
We strolled toward the Tower, passing glowing streetlamps and couples wrapped in scarves and nighttime plans. The bottle of wine was tucked under Theo’s arm, and when I glanced up at him, he looked… relaxed. Lighter.
Just two people, in Paris, waiting for the sparkle.