“So you’d move to England?” she asks, taking a sip of the champagne. The plane has stabilized in the air, and she and I both rest back in our own seats.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I admit. “I don’t really want to leave Vegas. My life is there.”
“I get it. I never thought I’d still be there. I mean, it’s where I grew up and I always wanted to leave ... but now? I don’t know. It feels like home.”
“England is so different from Las Vegas.”
“I know.” A serene smile passes over Claire’s face, and the flight attendant refills our drinks.
“What do you know of England?” I ask, lagging. “You’ve never even left Nevada.”
“Don’t laugh, but … when I was a girl, I was obsessed. You know the A&E version of Pride & Prejudice? Well, I had the whole thing memorized. When my friends were in love with Justin Bieber, I was head over heels in love with Colin Firth. So I know that the estates and countryside are very different from the desert.”
“The food is different, too. And the people. My parents are an anomaly, not stuffy or uptight. But my brother Geoffrey and his girlfriend Fiona? They are ridiculous.”
Claire’s eyes twinkle. “How long have they been together? That’s the sort of thing your fiancée would know.”
“Ten years. Geoffrey is just one year my senior. They’ve dated since high school.”
“But never got married? If they had, would that make him the obvious choice for your father’s successor?”
“Fiona wants to get married, but Geoffrey is a pansy. He’s worse than an ass; he’s a twit, which is why I think I actually stand a chance. Geoffrey is so terrible that if I show that I’m capable of even a modicum of decent behavior, I think my father will legitimately consider me.”
“Which is where I come in.”
“Right. So just shower me with praise, mention my virility and skill. Tell everyone I am investing in real estate, and never hint at the fact I spent five years mucking about.”
“You call it mucking, I call it fucking.”
“Ha,” I snort. “Claire, that wit is exactly the sort of humor Englishmen love. Keep it up.” As our glasses are filled for the third time, I toast Claire again.
“What is that one for?” she asks.
“For doing this. For putting up with me.” My lips curl into a smile as I realize I am actually genuinely happy to be bringing Claire home. She looks gorgeous in this posh outfit, holding her flute of champagne. Everything about her drips perfection, and I wouldn’t believe she had a blemish if someone swore she did.
“I want the money,” she says bluntly. “I’ll put up with anything.”
“Right.” I finish the martini in one fell swoop. Fuck me. My head needs to stay on bloody straight. This isn’t personal for Claire. She’s never once hinted that it is. It’s all business for her. And I need to keep it that way for me too.
But as we recline our seats, settling in for the long flight, I can’t help but look at Claire and think that what I really want is her.
Chapter Twelve
Claire
I fall asleep for most of the flight, and wake only as Landon gently nudges my arm.
“We’re here, love,” he says, tucking a piece of my hair off my face.
That gets me sitting up straight.
“Love?”
He laughs. “I was trying it on for size. You know, to make this believable. We need pet names.”
“And mine is Love?”
“Right. It rolls off the tongue. You can call me anything you like. However, we should think on it as we walk. The rest of the plane has already disembarked.”
I unbuckle and look around. “You let me sleep while everyone walked past me?” I swat his arm. “Was I drooling?”
“You looked perfect.”
I eye Landon cautiously. He’s being ridiculously nice. Which, actually, he’s been pretty generous with me the entire time we’ve been hanging out. And by hanging out I mean planning on conning his loved ones, and having sex.
I stand and get my purse. “Okay, Babycakes.”
“So you’re going with Babycakes .then?” he asks, deadpan.
I walk off the plane with him trailing me. “It’s better than Toots.”
“It’s better than a lot of things. That doesn’t mean you should consider calling me Fuck-machine.”
I laugh, swatting his arm as he reaches for my hand again. We walk into the crowded airport. The Las Vegas airport suddenly seems minuscule, compared to this place. People from everywhere on the globe cross our path. Dialects and languages circle around us, and my face brightens as I realize that I really did it. I travelled to another country.