Page 60 of Jane Deyre
“Yes!” I say, awed by the miracle of our discovery.
We head back to Thornhill, the new snail in the baggie.
Speedy has a new companion.
Reader, meet Stripette.
CHAPTER 29
Ward
Ifucking hate airports. They stress me out. Especially ones as big as LAX. Thank God, I have TSA PreCheck and get through security quickly. I head to the Admirals Club. I have time for one drink.
I order an expensive Scotch at the bar and find a vacant club chair. Setting my bag on the floor next to me, I waste no time taking a swig of my drink.
I really don’t want to go to New York. I hate New York more than I hate LA. The grime. The hustle and bustle. The traffic. The only thing that makes it better is that I don’t have to drive. I walk everywhere. And stay at the Four Seasons on Fifty-Seventh Street, two blocks away from both my agent’s and publisher’s offices on Third Avenue.
Was this trip necessary? Not really. I needed a distraction. A fuck I could count on. And not care about. I needed to get away from my daughter’s nanny. I haven’t been able to stop reliving that kiss. Quell my desire for her. She’s all I thought about on my Lyft ride here. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. In my heart of hearts, I know Blanche Ingram is just a temporary Band-Aid. The minute I see Jane Deyre again with my daughter, it’ll fall right off.
I’m also riddled with guilt. I feel like a total shit for having left my daughter in her distraught state. It was only a snail, but still. I lost a pet turtle when I was a kid and I was messed up for days. Jane must think I’m a heartless bastard. I admit to being a bastard, but I’m not heartless. Both my mother and Edwina raised me to be a caring person. Life happened and I got fucked up along the way.
Halfway through my drink, I hear my phone ping. A text. I curse out loud as I read it. My flight has been delayed by two hours. It won’t be leaving until eleven. Simmering, I toss back my Scotch and order another one at the bar. When I return to my seat, I set the tumbler down on the table next to me and drag my laptop out of my satchel. I might as well make good use of this time. I answer some emails and then click open my manuscript. Edwina’s memoir. I do some minor edits, and by the time I’m halfway done with my second Scotch, the words are blurs. All I can think about is Jane Deyre. What would it be like to fuck her? To spread her legs... lick her delicate petals... watch her squirm... feel her legs quiver... hear her sounds of rapture... and take her the distance with my manhood?
An announcement interrupts my fantasy. My arousal.
“Last call for passengers on American Airlines Flight 9466 departing to New York’s JFK. Please report to Gate 23B.”
Fuck. I lost track of time. Chugging the rest of my drink, I grab my bag, dash out of the Admirals Club, and race to my gate. Sprinting down the corridor. Figures my gate would be the last one. Breathless, I get there just in time. I show my boarding pass and get onto the plane. Put my bag overhead and take my seat in the first row of first class. I only sit in first class. I can afford it and it makes flying bearable. I enjoy the comfort and attention. Making things better, there’s no one sitting next to me. Good. I’m in no mood for conversation, though invariably I get stuck with some rich geezer or old bitty who just won’t shut the fuck up. Just after I buckle myself in, an attractive attendant offers me a glass of champagne. I pass on it. I’ll have something stronger once the plane takes off.
Close to the exit, I hear the cabin door close. I await another announcement: “Fight attendants, please prepare for takeoff.” Instead, I hear this: “Ladies and gentlemen, we are not yet cleared for takeoff. Thank you for your patience.”
As I mentioned earlier, patience is not my thing. We don’t even belong in the same sentence. Now, I wish I had that glass of champagne, but the flight attendant is nowhere in sight. My blood bubbling, I pull out my iPhone. I might as well kill time and check my emails. It pings. My heart jumps. Could it be a message from Jane? Then, I remember she doesn’t have my cell number. And honestly, I can’t remember if she has a phone. I’ve never seen her use one. What if there’s some kind of emergency with Adele? How would she reach me? I calm down a little knowing Edwina has my number. And so does Ms. Fairfax. Though that officious bitch would rather see my daughter drown than save her. I can’t understand why my godmother keeps her on. What power does she have over her?
I check my message. It’s from my agent. Blanche Ingram.
Darling, don’t bother coming to New York. I’ll be in LA shortly. Exciting news! See you soon!
xB
Yes!! What luck! I shove my phone back in my pocket and unbuckle my seat belt. Leaping to my feet, I open the overhead compartment and slide out my bag.
“Excuse me, sir. You need to remain in your seat,” comes a voice from behind me.
I turn my head. It’s the airline attendant from before. I notice her nametag.
“Belinda, I need to get off this plane.” My voice sounds urgent. Almost panicked.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. We’re going to take off any time now.”
“It’s an emergency.” My voice grows more panicked. “Something terrible has happened to my little... dog.” I almost said little girl, but bit down on my tongue. I’m a big believer when you make up excuses like that, they come back to bite you in the ass. Even though I don’t know Adele well, she’s still my kid. Born from my flesh and blood. I’d never do or say anything that would jeopardize her life. At least, I don’t have a dog.
A glint of concern flickers in the attendant’s eyes. Maybe she’s a dog lover and understands. My eyes stay on her as she pulls out a communication device. She tells someone on the other end the situation.We have a passenger...She puts the device away and moves closer to me. Her eyes meet mine.
“You’re lucky. The plane is going to be delayed another twenty minutes. Ground control is going to allow you to deplane. Please follow me.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as the door to the cabin slides open.
“Good luck with your dog,” I hear her say as I hurry out.