Indebted:Part 1(5)

When the doors open, we step out onto a partially enclosed deck that  overlooks the city. It's fancy enough to be any five-star restaurant in  New York, but it's clearly a place for the residents of the building to  lounge. Is this where he's taking me? I look around. There's nothing but  empty tables and chairs surrounding us.



"Are we the first ones here?" I realize that it is rather early for one  of these functions, but I thought that something would be set up by now.



"Oh, the charity event isn't here. I'm sorry, this is as far as the  elevator will take us. I'm afraid we have to walk the last two flights."  He smiles down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If you're  up for it."



"I've been on the track team since I was twelve, I don't think a couple stairs are going to do me in."



"Glad to hear it!" He tugs me by the hand, and I follow him up the steep  cement staircase and then another. I refuse to slow my pace or show him  that I'm getting a little winded, but it's a relief when we reach the  top step. I'm relieved, then terrified. As we step out onto the open  rooftop, I see a sleek, black helicopter waiting for us with a pilot all  suited up inside.



Oh no. Oh my good lord, no. My heart is pounding, my ears are ringing,  my knees could very well give out. Please don't let that be for us.  Please, please, please!!!



Matthew looks at me breaking out in a cold sweat. "I thought you were a  track champ," he teases. He must think that my weak knees and slick  forehead are because I'm winded by the stairs. What he doesn't know is  that I've never been in a plane before, not a plane, not a helicopter,  not even a Ferris wheel. I'm terrified of heights. Petrified.



"Yeah, I guess they got to me, after all." I attempt a smile, but it's  so forced it almost hurts my face. I don't want to tell him that I'm  afraid to get in the helicopter, but I also don't want to die. This is a  real toss-up. I know I'm not really going to die, I mean, I think I  know. I keep my mouth zipped and let him lead the way to our impressive  transportation. Do you know how many women would kill to trade places  with you right now? Just get over yourself and start taking some risks,  dammit. I suppose that's part of the whole reason I'm on this date, to  get out of my comfort zone and take risks. I just pray to baby Jesus  that this isn't the last risk I ever take as I climb into the helicopter  with Matthew.



We get strapped in, quicker than I would like, and before I know it  we're hovering above the rooftop and then the entire city is sliding  under the belly of the helicopter. Matthew keeps studying my face, I'm  guessing this is a move he makes regularly. I'm also guessing that the  other girls he's wined and dined this way aren't gritting their teeth  and trying not to cry. Just a guess.



I try so hard to give him a quick smile, to show him that I'm happy to  see him, but I'm pretty sure it comes across as me baring my teeth at  him like a wolf. My hands hurt from how hard I'm clinging onto my safety  straps. Meanwhile, Matthew looks like this is as natural as breathing.



He flicks a switch on his helmet and all of a sudden I can hear him.  "There's nothing like the Manhattan skyline at sunset, don't you think?"



I glance around like I'm turning my head through molasses, as if moving  too quickly or too much will rock the helicopter out of the sky. He's  right though, the view is like a dream. The closest thing I've seen is  from the top of the Empire State building, but even then, that wasn't  when the sky was a collision of purples and rose clouds. "It's  incredible."         

     



 



I have no real sense of what direction we're traveling in, or to what  location. I can see the Brooklyn Bridge and Long Beach but I'm not sure  where he is planning to go that can easily land a helicopter. Then  again, I had no idea that a helicopter could be sitting on the rooftop,  ready to go as it was. When it comes to luxury travel, I have a lot to  learn I guess.



My heart rate is finally slowing down enough that I can really enjoy the  view. It's truly spectacular. If nothing else, this is something I'll  remember from this night forever. What am I saying? Like there's any  part of my date with a billionaire that I'm gonna forget? Not likely. I  glance over at Matthew. His smirk has faded as he looks pensively out  the window, he's so deep in thought that he doesn't even notice as my  eyes inch over him. How can I resist? He looks like a painting, not a  person, real people shouldn't be allowed to look like him. I soak in the  scruff on his sharp jawline.



I bet he spends a lot of time making it look like he just forgot to  shave for a day or two, but still in the tidiest way possible. Like  those women who throw on powder and touch up their lipstick before  slipping back into bed so the man they're with thinks they "just wake up  like that."



I smirk at the idea of him primping, it seems so out of his character  and yet, there's no way someone with his looks just happens. I don't  even notice that we're descending until Matthew turns toward me to tell  me, catching my stare. I quickly look away, like a teenager who got  caught checking out her crush across the laundromat. Totally busted.



"We'll be on the ground in five minutes." I don't look at him, but I can  hear the smile in his voice. I nod, looking out at the sprawling  building below. We must be in the Hamptons. I look out at the water  licking at the toes of the property where a white, Italian style  building the size of a Wal-Mart is growing as we get closer to it. I can  see a driveway, not a parking lot and for the first time it occurs to  me that this is a house. This is where he lives? The thought doesn't  even make sense.



As we approach, I can see a chain of limos and flashy cars snaking  around the long curve of the cobblestone driveway. The neatly manicured  lawn with intricately designed flower gardens seems so out of character  for a man like Matthew. All I can think about is that people in this  world live like this. When I go home to my shared 600-square-foot  apartment, Matthew flies to this mansion which appears to be the size of  a city block.



The lawn is bustling with photographers, and older men draped by  gorgeous women. I can't help but notice, even from this distance, that  I'm painfully under dressed in Brianna's bridesmaid outfit. With a sea  of evening gowns and tuxedos ebbing and flowing through the gardens like  the ocean against the beach front property, it's not hard to see that I  stick out.



When we touch down on the landing pad, I still haven't recovered.  Landing pad. He has his own landing pad. Why did he ask me on this date?  I can't be a typical match for him. Surprisingly, I'm actually a bit  more excited than nervous for once. I'm interested in seeing where this  is going.



"Here, let me help you out," Matthew offers, hopping the ground like  he's casually stepping out of a cab. He extends his hand, but when I  reach for it he leans in and picks me up, swirling me out of the  helicopter by the waist and safely placing me on the ground. A supernova  of the media's flashing cameras go off before my eyes, temporarily  blinding me as I clutch his arm. Second thoughts cloud my mind. What am I  doing here? What kind of game is he playing? One look at his aqua blue  eyes and his knowing smile and my reservations melt away. I guess  there's only one way to find out.





"Matthew! Darling! It's been too long. Don't you look debonair?" A tall,  white, platinum blond woman immediately finds us in the crowd of  back-patters and hand shakers, double kissing Matthew's cheeks like  she's in a movie.



"Marjorie, I believe it's only been a month, hasn't it? At the Rosenberg wedding?"



"Oh, yes, yes, of course. Wasn't that something else? I heard that they  spent over a million on the reception alone and guess what? The happy  honeymooners are already talking about an annulment, can you imagine?"         

     



 



"That's unfortunate. Marjorie, this is my date tonight, Kendra Cole. Kendra, this is Marjorie, she's an old friend."



"An old friend? Is that what I've been downgraded to now?" Marjorie  pushes her pillowy lips in a practiced sulk. "Can't a woman get any  credit for taking you off the market for three years?" She winks at him  and gives his arm a playful squeeze before finally looking at me for the  first time since she approached us. "Well, aren't you just darling?"  She trails her green eyes over me. "Where did you find this one,  Mattie?"



Excuse me? I've known this woman for less than five minutes, and I already want to punch her frail-looking throat.



"Now Marjorie, what have I told you about playing nice with others?" Matthew scolds her.



"Oh, she knows I'm just teasing, don't you …  I'm sorry what was your name again?"



"It's Kendra."



"Right, Kendra knows I'm kidding, don't you?" She doesn't actually look  in my direction or wait for my answer. "Don't be so uptight, Mattie."  She purrs at him, like a cat in heat.