Chapter 5 #2
I stir in my seat, and blink hard as my eyes adjust. The grogginess slips away when my vision registers his face, his hand gently rubbing my shoulder to rouse me.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Gregg,” he whispers. “I didn’t know if you wanted to be woken for breakfast, but I figured I’d offer you a coffee.”
I push myself upright and rub my face, then notice a cup of coffee on a saucer waiting for me. A small carafe of cream, two sugar packets, and a tiny spoon sits neatly beside it.
“I promise not to spill this one.” Cameron chuckles.
“Thank you,” I murmur, still half asleep, and I take a sip of the black liquid.
The hot, bitter taste cuts through the haze in my mind, and when I look back up at him, I notice the faint tiredness in his eyes, subtle but there.
It seems to be the only real sign that he’s been awake all night while the rest of us slept.
“Long night for you?” I ask.
“Not really, we get a small break in the crew bunks.”
I nod. “I’ve always wondered about that actually, where the crew takes their rest on long flights.”
“You’re not the only one.” He laughs softly, leaning against the edge of the seat in front of me. “It’s not glamorous, but it’s as comfy as you need it to be.”
He glances at the stack of papers we’d scooped from the concourse floor earlier, now neatly arranged in a small workspace. “So, those papers, anything interesting?” he asks, gesturing with his chin. “I’m glad I didn’t ruin them.”
I smile, and honestly, I’m extremely glad they weren’t consumed by coffee either. What a thing to have to explain to the investors and to Dad. “Ah, they’re agreements, contracts, and plans for a development project I’m working on.”
Curiosity illuminates his face, and his head tilts.
“I’m a real estate and property developer,” I tack on, humbly.
“Ah, sounds like you have your hands full. I imagine London is a good city for that kind of work.”
“Very much so,” I agree, taking another sip. “But my company develops all over the world, too.”
“Oh very nice. And very busy.” He places a hand on my shoulder and smiles. Was it intentional? Was it not? Flirty? I can’t tell. I’m mesmerized again by his magnetism, his hazel eyes drowning me, holding me under.
The soft chime of the seatbelt sign sounds overhead, and I feel the distinguishable slow pull as the plane begins its descent, a gentle rumble running through the cabin.
Cameron looks over his shoulder toward the galley, no doubt the signal for him to get back to work.
I can feel the time slipping through my fingers, and Julian’s text nags at me, nudging me to act now before the moment slips away.
“So, speaking of London…” I begin. “How long will you be there?”
“We leave tomorrow evening, a little after six,” he answers, looking back from the galley. I can sense him itching at the tasks that must need to be completed, but I can’t help rejoicing that he would have some time in London.
“Do you have any plans before you leave out?”
“Hmm…” He thinks. “None really, I don’t think. I’ll probably take a nap when we get to the hotel, then go for a run in Hyde Park in the afternoon. Dinner with Riley, probably.”
There was a pause, and my heartbeat ticks up. I push through it.
“Well, there’s a place called Velvet Noir,” I explain. “It’s a club, pretty exclusive, but worth it.”
He nods, intrigued. “I think I’ve heard of it. But a nightclub on a Tuesday night? You don’t think it might be a little boring?” Cameron smiles cheekily.
“Velvet Noir? Boring?” I wave my hand dismissively. “It’s always packed, no matter the day. I’m headed there tonight with my best mate, and would you consider, I mean, would you like to join?”
Before he can answer, I see Riley approach from the galley, and another crew member comes up from the Economy cabin.
“Hey, Cam,” calls Riley, “quick question about the—oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” When she realizes what seat he’s at, her tone shifts from query to ‘well, well, well, what do we have here?’
Cameron adjusts slightly, the faintest flicker of exasperation crosses his face as Riley leans against the seat and offers me a friendly once-over. Then, another voice chimes in.
“Didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” the new voice announces coyly with a grin. “But did you mention Velvet Noir?”
Cameron sighs, the kind of sigh that says, ‘this is exactly what I don’t need right now,’ and he introduces the new addition. “Gregg, this is Marc. Marc, this is Gregg.”
I offer a polite smile, even as I pick up on the tension humming between the two of them. “Pleasure to meet you, Marc.”
“Likewise,” he acknowledges. “But seriously. Velvet Noir? You’ve got good taste, and it’s very exclusive from what I’ve heard. Can you can get us in?”
That was presumptuous.
“Marc,” Riley hisses, shooting him a sharp, unimpressed look, but Marc seems either too proud of himself or oblivious to wedging his way into the conversation.
“Erm, I could pull some strings, I think. Sure,” I answer, trying to keep my tone easy.
“Well, guys,” Marc glances between Cameron and Riley, “looks like we have our layover plans.”
“Marc.” Cameron’s patience snaps slightly. “Could you make the landing announcement for me while we finish tidying up here?”
“Sir, yes sir,” he gives a mocking salute and he a Riley go their separate ways, leaving just Cameron and me. When they are out of earshot, Cameron looks at me with exasperation and amusement.
“I’m sorry about that. About him.”
I snicker and hand him my empty coffee cup, purposefully grazing his hand with mine. “No worries. So is that a yes?”
“Good morning, everyone,” the captain’s voice rolls over the speakers.
“This is Captain Colleen from the Flight Deck. We’ve begun our descent into London, and the weather is fair, about twenty-four degrees centigrade and seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit.
We are, uh, however expecting some turbulence on the way down, so please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until we arrive at the gate and I’ve extinguished the seatbelt sign.
I’d like to thank you for flying with us, and wish you a pleasant time in England, or wherever your travels may take you.
Flight attendants, please prepare for arrival. ”
“Yes,” Cameron says, a smile tugging at his mouth. “But I should really go and make sure we’re ready to land.”
The plane gently sways beneath us as it passes through a small bump.
“Excellent! Oh—” I reach into my bag and pull out a business card. “Here’s my card, my cell’s on it. Why don’t you text me later and we can work out the details?”
“Sure.” He takes it and slides it into his pocket.
“And perhaps,” I add quietly, “maybe we could meet beforehand? Just you and I?”
The aircraft lurches sharply, and Cameron stumbles, losing his balance.
I move without thinking.