Haze, Andrea Wolfe [english novels for beginners txt] 📗

never be as rich as Jack, but that was never the deal breaker for me. Although I appreciated it, Jack was far more than just his wealth. I would never be some gold digger, even if people assumed that about me for dating a rich, famous guy. Outward appearances could be deceiving; I learned that early on, thankfully.

By that point, the plane was taking off. It seemed to be a little more rough than take offs in larger planes—his plane was also much smaller and more personalized than a huge 747 full of random strangers—but I felt safe and secure next to Jack, even though our safety was totally in the pilot's hands.

"It's rough sometimes," Jack said, as if reading my mind. "Tim is really good, though. Don't worry."

Tim, huh? I swallowed the lump in my throat after imagining my Timothy flying the plane.

Sorry, folks, but I hate you both, and so we're going to crash into a mountainside in about ten seconds. Goodbye, cruel world!

Jack sensed my nervousness—he probably attributed it to the take off and not my morbid vision—and offered me his hand. I took it. Our fingers immediately locked and held that way. His firm touch brought my mind back to earth as the plane became airborne. I chuckled at that thought.

We sat there together in loud silence, the plane roaring as it battled the wind during its ascent. The sun looked breathtakingly gorgeous from outside the window, and the realization that we'd be following its setting the whole trip made me even happier.

When we reached our peak altitude, the plane evened out and the engines quieted to a comfortable level. Jack stood up and stretched. "No big deal, right?"

I smiled at him. "That was just fine. Ten minutes ago, I didn't know where I was going. And now I'm on a private jet with you." I suddenly noticed his aftershave, a refreshing scent that was just pure man. As usual, his hair was perfectly styled, the top three buttons on his button-down shirt unbuttoned.

"Let's go sit on the couch. I meant it when I said the seats were just for takeoff."

I laughed. "Okay. Whatever you say."

"Do you want something to drink?" His hand motioned toward a fully stocked bar. "I've got a cocktail how-to book if you try to stump me."

"You're never supposed to admit weakness, Jack!" I stood beside him, eyeing the colorful cover of the book he mentioned.

Become a pro bartender in just six short weeks!

Save money by drinking at home instead of going out!

Be the friend that everyone wants to know!

"Jesus, Jack. Is that book actually about cocktails? It sounds like a self-improvement book."

He gave me a smug look. "Eh, it just had the highest rating online. It's actually not from an infomercial. I expect it to help me get drunk, not get me a promotion."

I giggled some more and tossed it back down on the counter. "Whatever you say, Jack." I couldn't believe how quickly I had gone from turbulence in my life to this beautiful—every glance out the window could have been a separate, unique painting—serene spot in the sky.

"So are you going to place an order or what? I've got other customers to take care of." Jack impatiently tapped his finger on the counter, his eyes glancing at angry invisible customers.

"What, like the pilot? You don't let him drink, do you?" I pretended to be in line with the other non-existent folks.

Jack didn't say anything else and just shrugged. I guess he wasn't going to budge until I gave him my order.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Just give me a gin and tonic. Do you need me to find it in the book?"

He laughed. "Go sit down, Effie." He pointed at the soft microfiber couch as if I hadn't noticed it.

Not seeing the man for a short while made me appreciate his beauty even more. I was immediately feeling that white heat in my core, that lull that made me weak in the knees. God, he did have such a spell over me—he could make me submit to him by doing literally nothing.

I drifted over and sat down, turning my head so that I could see out the window. The skies went on endlessly, the clouds in perfect, puffy formations that resembled anything your mind could imagine. Nothing intimidating or scary about the view. I took a minute to appreciate my situation, to appreciate the world that I had stepped right back into as if I'd never left it at all.

"All right, two gin and tonics, ma'am." Jack handed one my way and I greedily snatched it from him.

"Sir, I only ordered one." I gave him an incredulous look.

"Oh, yeah. This one's for me." He took a quick sip and then put it in the cup holder in the arm of the couch. "I didn't want to open any other bottles, so I copied your idea. I just restocked everything."

Jack sat down close to me, our sides and legs touching. I sipped my own drink and then put it into my matching drink holder. The fact that the couch was symmetrical in that regard pleased me. Although the ride had been smooth thus far, I didn't want to be forced to hold my drink through sudden turbulence.

"So is this private back here?" I asked, hoping to sound innocent. Even though I caught a glimpse of my own ulterior motive, I wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"For the most part. If the pilot ever had to leave the front, he'd buzz me through the intercom. He's not supposed to, though."

"So you've probably had some wild times up here, huh?" I started imagining the no limits possibilities that a rich rock star and his friends could have in a private jet.

"Yeah, but that's never something to be proud of. Or at least I was never proud of it. It was fun, but moving on was even more fun." He gave me a discomfited smile.

Curiosity got the best of me. Obviously, I didn't know