Chapter 38 Andrea
Andrea
Eliza: You did NOT! Oh my God, I knew it.
I sent her a zipped-up mouth emoji and slipped my phone back into my bag.
I wasn’t getting into it, not yet. The whole thing still felt slightly unreal, like I’d skipped a step somewhere and hadn’t quite caught up.
“Madame?”
The flight attendant handed me a glass of Buck’s Fizz and placed a tray of pastries between us. Normally, sitting in a private jet with a billionaire would warrant a small chapter of WhatsApp messages to Eliza on its own.
But I didn’t reach for my phone again. I stared at the glass instead.
So that was it.
It wasn’t strategy, or ego, or whatever version of him I’d decided made the most sense since I’d found out who he was.
It was something else entirely.
Something I hadn’t accounted for.
Was that what Miranda had meant? How he could make the cuts and still want to be a good man?
Liam’s hand on my thigh was firm, confident it was okay to rest there—not like the cardboard cutout version of a couple we’d been performing for so long.
You fit … with me.
Did I, really? Could we make something work together? Could I open myself up to this idea of being cared for, protected, relying on someone other than myself?
It made something soft I didn’t recognize bloom just below my ribs. He wanted me, and he didn’t care about the rest of it. I looked out the window. Little broken clouds lay in a sheet below us, a few patches of the deep turquoise ocean peeking out beneath.
We’d only just taken off, but Dex and Ben were both asleep in the chairs opposite. Dex’s head was tipped back, mouth open, while Ben’s head lolled to one side. Every now and then, his eyelids fluttered.
Bonnie’s gaze settled on mine and she glanced away quickly. She’d been looking at me differently all morning.
Had Liam already told her?
Every time my mind quieted, the thought of him sliding inside me flooded my thoughts. The look on his face when my dress had dropped to the floor, his breath against my neck …
This thing between us now was like a charge no one knew was there except us. I just wanted to be alone with him again.
It was a relief, finally, to be honest with myself about that.
But I was looking forward to being back in my flat with Eliza and Mr. Darcy, too. I needed something familiar to ground myself. I still had the sense that my life was hovering over a blinking cursor at the end of a sentence, and I couldn’t quite work out why.
We hadn’t spoken about what it meant or how things would change, now that we didn’t have to worry about contracts or CVs or trying to convince everyone we were something we weren’t. Maybe that was what it was.
And I was still worried about Kelly and Mon.
My phone buzzed in my bag again, and I slid the screen open.
But it wasn’t anyone I usually heard from. It was Sebastian.
I clicked on it.
Nothing loaded. A gray bar where the message should be, a small circle spinning patiently beneath his name.
Downloading …
I tried again. Nothing. And then the couple of lines:
Sebastian: Andrea, I’m going overseas today, so I thought I’d give you an off-the-record update. Bidding closed yesterday and—
That was it.
The circle spun.
I toggled Airplane Mode off, then on again. The signal bars flickered, dropped, then came back.
“Everything okay?” Liam leaned over and kissed the side of my head.
“Rubbish Wi-Fi.”
“Just can’t get a quality private jet experience nowadays, can you?”
I laughed and turned the phone face down on the table—just something else to deal with when we landed.
The circle kept spinning in my head anyway.
*
“Are we there yet?” Dex stretched. The plane was banking toward Heathrow.
“We’ll be landing in about thirty minutes, monsieur.” The steward smiled and removed two empty coffee cups.
Next to me, Liam was playing Wordle on his phone. He turned the screen and showed me his score—a three.
“Not bad,” I said dryly. “For a guy.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow. “What did you get then?”
I flashed him my phone—same score. “Sorry,” I said. “Technically, that makes me the winner.”
“How do you work that out?”
“Your Oxford and private school handicap,” I said. “We underprivileged normies get extra credit for showing up. Surely you remember that?”
He laughed and pressed his face into my neck, kissing the skin just above my collarbone. “I’ll give you some extra credit whenever you like,” he said quietly, the tone so low and dark it made my nipples instantly wake up.
“For God’s sake, you two,” Ben said. “I didn’t consent to seeing this side of his personality. Can you save the sickly sweet nothings for when you’re alone?”
“Fuck yes,” said Dex. “At least wait until British airspace to be nauseating.”
Liam laughed, his hand squeezing my leg a little tighter.
“Wow, what a week,” said Ben.
“And Andrea survived French high society,” Dex said. “That’s basically a transferable skill now, right?”
Liam dropped an arm across my shoulders. “That was never going to be a problem.”
“I’d hardly say she survived,” said Bonnie, lifting her head as if she’d just noticed we were having a conversation.
Oh God, here we go again …
“Anyone who can decimate Toby Davenport the way Andrea did is well beyond survival level,” she added. “At a table full of people, no less.”
Not what I was expecting …
“She clocked him in seconds,” she said, turning to me. “Didn’t you, Andrea?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Yes, you did,” she said. “I saw you.”
“Davenport’s an arse,” said Ben. “Always has been. You didn’t miss a beat, Andrea. I have to say, it was beautifully done.”
“Of course,” Bonnie said. “She’s an artist. She notices the details.”
“Andrea’s an artist?” Dex’s mouth fell open.
“Jesus, mate, keep up,” said Ben.
“She has a rare kind of attention. Sebastian’s words.” Bonnie flipped open a mirror and smoothed on her lipstick. “If that was surviving, then she’s Genghis Khan.”
Wow. Was that … a compliment?
I just wished I’d pushed Toby away from me before Liam had shown up last night though.
I’m sure it’s been difficult for Liam, processing what he did … the little lies we tell ourselves, so we can have what we want …
Toby was pond scum, but his words had got under my skin.
“Andrea, I’d love to talk to you some more about art when we get back,” said Dex.
Next to me, Liam chuckled. “Will you shave off that beard if she tells you you’ve ‘got an eye for it’?”
Dex flipped a middle finger at him.
“Of course, Dex,” I said. “It would be a pleasure.” It felt weird to be asked about art, like I knew what I was talking about.
The engines changed note, and the horizon outside the window began to creep upward. We were almost home.