An Unlikely Deal(13)

I'm more than fine. Lucas is welcome to play whatever game he wants, but I have my own plan. I don't have to do anything except wait until we hit cruising altitude and nap-or at least pretend to. We're flying red-eye, and there's nothing unusual about wanting to sleep until we land.

I relax my muscles, one by one, and force myself to feign a calm I don't feel. 





The Girl


The mother looks down at the child. The toddler is barely two, but she's skinnier than a spaghetti noodle.

The father of the child does not wish to marry. He is often away on work, and he worries about losing benefits. The mother worries too. They can't make ends meet without EBT and what little assistance they get from the government.

At least he gave the girl a name. "I love her, and I love you for giving her to me," he said.

"Would he have said that if you were a boy?" the woman whispers to the girl. "Would he have married me? Men love daughters, but men love sons. Strong sons to carry on the line."

The girl looks at the woman innocently, then grins.

She stares at her child, unsmiling, and sighs. "Why bother? You still aren't a boy. Should of known it would happen when I learned it was a girl in my belly. Men always want sons. Your grandpa did too." She shakes her head. "He was so disappointed when he got me instead."

The girl extends her arms toward the mother, asking to be held. The mother gets up. "I gotta do the dishes," she says. "Always more stuff to do."

As she walks away to the kitchen, she mutters, "Should of aimed for a boy. Every man wants a boy."





Chapter Five



Ava

I close my eyes the moment the plane revs up for takeoff. I keep them closed as the plane speeds down the runway … then tilts upward, reaching for cruising altitude.

When the plane finally becomes horizontal again, I open one eye and hit a button to turn my seat into a flat bed. As soon as I can stretch out, I turn my back to Lucas and tuck my hands under my head.

"It's not going to work," Lucas says.

"I can't hear you. Because I'm sleeping."

"If you don't talk to me now, I'm taking us all the way to America. That's a damn long flight. I'm sure it'll give us a chance to chat."

I jackknife up and glare at him. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope."

"You can't do that," I hiss, keenly aware of the cabin attendant's presence.

"Sure I can." He sweeps an arm around. "It's my plane."

"That's kidnapping!"

"And I care because … ?"

"I'll press charges!"

"Please do. But you'll press them in the States." He reclines his seat and relaxes. "Besides, who's going to believe you've been kidnapped? Kidnappers don't use private jets."

Anger heats my face. "Are you fucking serious? Your being rich doesn't make what you're doing lawful."

He shrugs. "Flying a friend home was perfectly legal last time I checked."

"You bastard!"

He smiles, but the dark gleam in his eye remains implacable. "Thank you. It warms my heart to know you have such a high opinion of me."

Smacking my forehead with the heel of my hand a couple of times, I think fast. Back at the restaurant, he said I took something from him. I freaked out because that announcement felt like an ambush. I won't overreact again. But what if he knows? I have no clue what I'm going to do if he does. I just know I can't go to the States right now.

I cross my arms. "Fine."

"Let's eat."

"I'm not hungry. You have the singular effect of killing my appetite." And I don't want a repeat of what happened earlier. I doubt my stomach lining could survive another round of vomiting.




 

 

The muscles in his jaw flex. "If the scar on my cheek bothers you that much, I'll sit to your left."

I stare at him. "That's not what I meant."

He stares back. "Does it matter?"

I look away. Nothing matters except getting him to take me to Japan and then leave me alone forever.

He unbuckles and moves to a seat facing me. Stretching out his left leg until the foot encroaches into my personal space, he tilts his head and looks at me with tooth-grinding insolence. "You will eat."

Before I can bristle at his high-handedness, he signals the cabin attendant, and she quickly serves us a tray of the food items she described earlier.

When I don't move, he stabs a piece of fruit with his own fork and hands it to me. "Eat." Then he smirks. "Afraid it's poisoned?"

"That's a possibility." But I take the fork and bite into the proffered fig, which is stuffed with goat cheese. I acquired a taste for figs in Japan, but I've never had one prepared like this. It's extra sweet … and the pungent taste of goat cheese goes well with the gooey meat of the fruit.