Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“How long will this cut the trip down to?” she asks.
“Twenty-five minutes or so.”
Lucy’s jaw drops. The flush on her cheeks grows even redder. Christ, she’s adorable.
I take her hand – so soft and warm in mine – and help her to the copter where the co-pilot is waiting. He smiles and takes Lucy’s bag from me and stores it. I thank him, and he welcomes us both aboard, secures the doors behind us, then climbs into the cockpit with the pilot.
“Wow,” Lucy says like she really means that shit. “So this is how the other half lives.”
“I’m well above the other half,” I say with a grin. “Not to brag.”
Lucy smiles back, almost in a scolding manner. “Not to brag.”
Moments later, the helicopter takes off from the pad, and she reaches out for my hand. I can see it’s purely out of reflex and smile as I take it and hold her tight. She’s already looking to me for safety and protection.
“Look there,” I say, pointing back at JFK as we rise higher into the air. “That could be you down there. Trying to catch a nap on one of those uncomfortable chairs. Or curled up on your carry-on.”
“No thank you,” she giggles. Her laugh is delightful, even filtered and distorted coming through the headsets we have to wear to protect our ears from the sound of the rotor. “I’ll take the billionaire status. Even if it’s just for a little while!”
The flight out of Manhattan is pure delight. Normally when I do this, it’s with a business partner, and I’m reviewing documents or talking about company problems, so I don’t really pay much attention to anything out the window. But this time, my partner is a beautiful girl who’s never done anything like this, so I spend the flight pointing out landmarks and watching her reactions as she bounces up and down in her seat with excitement. By the time we’re touching down just outside Greenwich, I think Lucy has pretty much forgotten about her flight.
“Now that was awesome!” she exclaims as I take her hand and help her out onto the helipad.
“Good first flight?” I ask her as the co-pilot wheels over her carry-on.
“Oh, yeah!” She smiles, both at me and at him. The co-pilot nods politely.
“Well, thanks for flying with us, miss. Hope to see you again.”
“Thank you!”
Frank, my driver, already has Lucy’s bag and is packing it away in the trunk of the Rolls by the time she turns around and sees it parked behind us. She’s been too busy ogling the chopper, as if she can’t believe we both actually flew here in it.
“Wait,” she stammers, pointing at the car. “Now we’re taking that to your house?”
“Well, what did you expect? A 1993 Toyota Corolla?” I stroll over, and she follows me. Frank greets us both and opens the door for us. “Thanks, Frank. This is Lucy. Lucy, Frank.”
“Um, hi,” Lucy says, trying not to appear overwhelmed as we slide into the backseat. It’s only a few minutes’ ride to the house, and I can see her eyes go wide as we pull up at the front door and step out. Her jaw drops at the sight of it, but as Frank grabs her carry-on, she turns to me and shakes her head a few times and waves her hands to the sides.
“Nope. Nope, I’m not gonna say anything this time.”
“You’re not?” I smirk.
“Nope. You’re a billionaire, and I’ve already been impressed by the helicopter, the Rolls, and of course you’re going to have a stupidly-crazy-awesome house.”
“I am?”
“Yup. So I’m just going to act normal and go inside with you.” She turns to Frank and takes her bag from him. “I’ll take that. Thank you, Frank. Let’s go!”
Without waiting, she marches forward, dragging her carry-on up the front steps, right up to the front door. I click the button on my keychain, causing it to open in front of her. I can see the slight pause in her step – she wasn’t ready for something like that – but she doesn’t acknowledge it to me. She just keeps moving forward and goes right inside.
Yeah, I like this girl. I like her a lot.
I find her inside alternating glances between the kitchen and the second living room, having left her carry-on by the door. I just stand and watch her for a second, admiring her beauty. And then a thought crosses my mind – a thought that I never would have thought I’d have in a million years – a thought I’ve never had in my life: What would it be like to come home to her every day?
The thought alone fills me with warmth and desire. Nothing has even happened between the two of us, and I’m already thanking the stars that my plane needed maintenance and I was forced to buy a public ticket, which caused me to end up at JFK. If that hadn’t happened, I never would have run into Lucy and wouldn’t have had the day I’ve had today. Nothing has even happened between the two of us yet, and today has already been one of the most enjoyable days I’ve had in…I don’t even know how long.