14. Selene
Selene
I’ve been working on the project for a few weeks when Darby’s brother, Aden, finds a conference on developing outstanding local community centers being held in Kansas City.
It’s a several-hour plane flight. I will cover the conference in general and his meetings with several local community centers.
The article will show his commitment to growing their local center and motivating the kids.
As I’m packing my bag, Leo giggles and pulls on one of my sweaters. The fabric swallows him, the sleeves hanging past his hands as he dances around the room.
“I look like a wizard!” he declares, spinning in circles before collapsing onto the bed. His laughter bounces off the walls of our small bedroom, and I laugh while I watch him.
I reach over and tug the sweater from him, folding it neatly before tucking it into the suitcase. “You’d be the cutest wizard ever, but we’re not packing you. You’re staying with Uncle Jake.”
He pouts, sitting cross-legged on the bed. His dark brown hair sticks out in messy tufts, and his eyes sparkle with mischief. “But you need me. Who else will keep you from getting lost at the airport?”
I chuckle as I roll up a pair of jeans and squeeze them into a corner of the suitcase. Then, with a dramatic sigh, I say, “I’ll try not to get lost, little man. But if I do, you’ll be the first person I’d call.”
Leo leans over and starts rummaging through my folded clothes, pulling out a scarf and wrapping it around his neck. “This one’s soft. Are you taking it because airplanes are cold?”
“Exactly,” I say, playfully snatching the scarf from his hand. “Now, help me find my chargers before I forget them.”
He hops off the bed and races to the nightstand. His hands dig through the clutter until he holds up two tangled cords like trophies. “Found them!”
“I don’t know how I would survive without you.
” I carefully place them in the front pocket of my suitcase.
Packing with Leo is always an adventure, but it’s also a reminder of how much fun we have when it’s just us.
The way he giggles and his mind jumps from one thought to another is like having a burst of sunshine in the room.
When we’re done with my suitcase, we move on to his. His suitcase looks just like mine. He insisted on having the same one. His clothes are neatly packed, but his stuffed dinosaur, Toby, is wedged awkwardly on top like an afterthought.
“Can’t forget Toby,” I say, gently moving the dinosaur to the side as we pack his toothbrush and pajamas.
Leo grins. “Toby’s the boss of my suitcase.”
I ruffle his hair. “He’s doing a good job.”
Once we’ve packed everything, Leo sits cross-legged on the floor. He tilts his head, tracing the zipper with his finger.
“I’m gonna miss you, Mom,” he says softly.
My heart tightens, but I don’t let it show. I sit beside him and place my hand on his. “Anytime you miss me, just look at your suitcase. It will remind you of me. And anytime I miss you, I’ll look at mine.”
He blinks up at me. “But how does that work?”
“That’s the magic of these suitcases,” I say, winking. “It’s like a magic portal that connects us even when we’re far apart.”
Leo scrunches his nose and then bursts into laughter. “Mom, I’m almost eight, and I’m not stupid!”
I laugh, too, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around my waist, and I kiss his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. “Okay, okay, maybe it’s not magic. But I’ll still miss you like crazy.”
He leans back, grinning. “I know.”
A knock on the door interrupts the moment. My brother Jake steps into the room, his broad frame filling the doorway. His dark hair is neatly styled, and he’s wearing a button-down shirt and jeans. He smiles when he sees Leo and me on the floor.
“You two causing trouble?”
“Always,” I say, standing up and brushing off my jeans.
Jake picks up Leo’s suitcase with ease. “You ready, buddy?”
Leo nods, grabbing his other backpack. “I’m ready, Uncle Jake!”
After a final look around the house, I make sure everything is okay before I lock up. Jake turns to me as we walk to his car. “How are you getting to the airport?”
“Uber,” I say, but I cringe internally at how much it’ll cost. Public transport won’t get me there in time, so I don’t have a choice. I really need to get a car.
Jake narrows his eyes. “Uber? You know that’s expensive, right? I can take you.”
“You have a meeting this afternoon,” I remind him. “I know that even picking up Leo is rushing you. I’m fine.”
“We can make it work. You’re—”
Before we can start or finish the argument, a sleek, black BMW turns the corner and rolls down my street. The car is impossible to miss. Its glossy exterior reflects the morning light, and the customized license plate confirms what I already know.
Darby.
My stomach twists as the car slows. Jake frowns at the car and looks at me. I grab the suitcase and hug Leo quickly, kissing his cheek.
“Be good for Uncle Jake, okay?”
“I will.” Leo hugs me tightly, then bounds toward Jake. I give Jake a quick hug, avoiding his questioning eyes.
“I’ll call you when I land,” I say, turning toward Darby’s car.
My heart races as I pull my suitcase behind me.
The truth is, I tell Jake and my uncle everything.
They both know who Leo’s father is and even what he looks like.
But I haven’t chosen to tell either of them I was now working for Leo’s father.
Who am I kidding? I don’t want to listen to a lecture.
The BMW barely has time to park before I open the door and slide into the passenger seat. Darby glances at me. He looks out the window and opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.
“Drive, please,” I say firmly, closing the door behind me.
He doesn’t ask questions. His hand moves smoothly to the gear shift, and the car glides forward without hesitation. Jake’s eyes follow the car, and I thank God for its tinted glass.
I can feel Darby watching me out of the corner of his eye. I keep my gaze straight ahead, my fingers tightening around the handle of my case that’s now getting heavier on my lap.
After a few blocks, he finally speaks. “Good morning to you, too.”
I laugh awkwardly. “Morning.”
The sound of the engine fills the space between us as Darby drives smoothly through the morning traffic.
The city blurs past in shades of gray and glass, the occasional burst of green from the parks breaking through the monotony.
I let my head rest against the cool leather seat, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions about the awkward way I bolted into his car.
But, of course, this is Darby.
“What was that back there?” he asks, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road.
I straighten, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What…what do you mean?”
“You practically sprinted toward my car like the ground was on fire,” he says, smirking. “Were you running from something? Or someone?”
I shift uncomfortably and clear my throat. “I didn’t want to miss the free ride or keep you waiting.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, dragging out the words. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with Jake standing there looking confused.”
I snap my head to him. “You know Jake?”
“Of course I do,” He says incredulously. “I met him a few times when we were in college. He wasn’t exactly my biggest fan.” He looks at me briefly, then shakes his head. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “You didn’t want to tell him you’re working with me, did you?”
“Jake is… protective.”
“He’s your older brother. He’s supposed to be.”
I sigh, leaning back against the seat. “You don’t know how protective he can be. He’d ask a million questions and probably camp outside my house with binoculars to make sure you’re not being a ‘bad influence.’”
Darby chuckles, and the sound warms the space between us. “I’d pay good money to see that.”
I shake my head, laughing. The tension in my shoulders eases, and I feel lighter. Darby’s teasing always made me feel better and warmer inside. It was like drinking a cup of hot chocolate.
Then his tone shifts, and he sounds sincere when he says, “I’m just happy you’re here.”
I didn’t expect him to say something like that. I remember how he asked me to be his partner the other day in his office. Why does he keep saying things like this? I feel my face heat up. I quickly look away and pretend to be interested in the city passing by outside.
A few minutes later, I notice the unfamiliar route. We’re not heading toward the main terminal. “Where are we going?” I ask, sitting up straighter.
“The hangar.”
I blink. “Did you…Did you just say hangar?”
“Yeah. You know? The place where aircraft and stuff are parked.”
I roll my eyes. “I know what a hangar is, Darby. Why are we going there and not the terminal?”
“I’m not in the mood to fly with people today. So, we’ll take my jet,” he says, like it’s no big deal.
I stare at him, thinking he would laugh or something. But he doesn’t. He’s serious. I don’t even bother asking what would happen to the tickets we booked. “I keep forgetting you’re not the guy I met in college with the beat-up car and the loose door handle.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I miss that car.”
“You do not.”
“I do,” he insists. “That car had character.”
“It had a death wish,” I counter, laughing again.
He glances at me again, his expression softening. “It makes no difference the car I drive.”
I hold his gaze for a moment before shaking my head. “Trust me, Darby, it makes one hell of a difference.”
We pull up to the hangar, and I gulp. The large, sleek jet sits ahead, its white exterior gleaming under the morning light. The private runway stretches into the horizon, and workers in uniforms buzz around, preparing for takeoff.
I hesitate as I step out of the car, my hand gripping the handle of my suitcase a little too tightly. The conversation in the car had distracted me, but now, standing here, the familiar anxiety wraps around me like a vice. Flying has never been my thing, and no amount of luxury can change that.
Darby’s warm hand slips into mine, and his thumb brushes lightly over mine. When I turn to look at him, he’s smiling.
“You’re nervous,” he says.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “A little.”
“I figured you might be, so I made some arrangements,” he says. “I’ve got sleep medication if you need it, relaxing music, and if it gets really bad, one of the attendants on the jet used to be a masseuse.”
His thoughtfulness disarms me. My chest tightens, but not from anxiety—from something softer. He remembered. He remembered how much flying scares me.
Wait? Is that why he decided to take his jet? Because he remembered I was afraid of flying?
I squeeze his hand and smile. “I think it’ll be fine.”
He nods, his eyes lingering on mine for a second before he lets go. We walk toward the jet together.
The inside is nothing short of breathtaking. Plush leather seats, soft beige carpeting, and polished wood accents make it feel more like a luxury apartment than an airplane. There’s a cozy lounge area, with a bar stocked with top-shelf liquor and large windows that bathe the cabin in natural light.
Darby gestures for me to sit, and I sink into the soft leather seat, already feeling a little better. He pours us both cocktails—something light and fruity—and sits across from me, leaning back comfortably.
He raises his glass. “To new adventures.”
I clink my glass against his, the cold condensation brushing against my fingers. “To surviving the flight.”
We drink, and the alcohol soothes my nerves for a few minutes. But then, the jet lifts off, and I feel the change in pressure in my head. I dig my fingers into the seat's leather and shut my eyes tightly.
“Do you remember the time we got stuck on that road trip?” Darby asks.
I open my eyes to see him smiling at me. He’s trying to distract me. “Uhm…I uhh.” My brain is scattered, and my thoughts are disoriented. My whole body is still shaking, but I have found the memory. “The tire blew out, and we didn’t have a spare.”
He grins proudly and nods. “You insisted on walking to the nearest gas station.”
“It was only a mile,” I say, trying not to pant.
“You were wearing heels.”
I manage to laugh along with him, and the pressure on my chest reduces. We hold eye contact, and something in the air changes.
I know that talking can be a good distraction, but venturing into the past might lead to questions about why I left. So, I opt for a different distraction. I lean forward, pull his face to mine, and press my lips against his.
His breath hitches, but he responds immediately. His hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me even closer as the kiss deepens. His taste sends a wave of heat through me—his other hand slides to my waist, anchoring me as I tangle my fingers in his hair.
The plane hums beneath us, but I barely notice. All I can feel is his warmth, his touch, the way he makes me forget everything except this moment.