"Owen..."
"I love you, Kaylee." He said it simply, his voice soft. I felt my heart forget to beat. It no longer needed to. It didn't beat for me anymore anyway; it beat for Owen.
"I love you too, Owen." The words flowed out easily, my heart overjoyed. They were truer than anything I had ever said in my life. I really did love him.
"Come with me."
"What? What do you mean?" I sat back down. Owen's eyes were bright, a smile beginning to form around the edges of his mouth.
"Come with me on this business trip."
"I can't. You know I can't," I said, shaking my head.
"Why?" His eyes searched mine. "Money? Not a problem. Work? You can get the time off. Come travel with me. I'll even talk to your boss. I'm sure you can get the time off if I made a sizable donation to the hospital."
Fear lurched in my stomach. "I can't."
He peered at me, his eyes hopeful. "Why, Kaylee?"
I picked furiously at the cuticle on my thumb. If I kept this up it would bleed, but I didn't care. I took a shaky breath, embarrassed and afraid to tell him. "I hate flying. And I'm not good in strange places."
"You flew to Emma's wedding," he said encouragingly.
"Because it was her wedding. You don't even want to know what it took to get me through the flight." That hot sticky feeling was growing in the back of my throat and I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to cry.
"We can work around that. At least think about it. We could be together this way." I could hear the excitement in his voice, and I wanted to feel it too. I wanted to be with him. I just didn't want to leave Iowa to do it. I nodded, though.
"I'll think about it."
Thunder rumbled, and I heard a splash of rain hit the window as a storm rolled in. Owen grinned at me, hope and excitement radiating from him. I knew I wasn't going to really have to think about it. For the chance to be with Owen, for the chance to make this relationship work, I would get on a plane. I'd become a flipping flight attendant if it meant I could be with Owen.
"I'll try it. But you're going to have to have some serious alcohol on the flight."
Owen's face lit up the room, and he pulled me into the bed with him. As he kissed me, I knew I could do this. As much as I hated flying and traveling, I would give it a chance for Owen. For this.
Rain hit the window harder as Owen kissed me. I could do this. I could do anything if I was with Owen. He wrapped his arms around me, the heat of his skin comforting as we nestled back into the sheets. He was back asleep in minutes, his breathing deep and even. Thunder rattled the windows, but he didn't stir as the rain pounded against the glass outside. It was as if the rain was washing away my worries, bringing change and something new.
Chapter 14
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I could do this.
Owen squeezed my hand reassuringly, and I gave him a nervous smile. The plane moved forward and my hand clamped down on his. I could do this.
When Emma had told me that her wedding would be in the Caribbean, I almost didn't go. But she was my sister, so I had dutifully started working on overcoming my fear of flying. I bought books, listened to 'get over your fear' programs on tape, I even met with a hypnotherapist. In the end, the only thing that had gotten me through that flight was a bottle of whiskey.
The plane began to speed up, the small private jet starting its sprint down the runway. I could feel the plane star to vibrate, the hum of the engines drowning out all other noise. I wanted to scream for it to stop, but I was determined to do this. I held Owen's hand in a death grip. I was pretty sure when we got off the plane that he was going to need X-rays and a cast. That was, of course, if he even managed to have a hand left, on account of the way I was squeezing. He just smiled at me and let me keep tightening my grip.
In deep, out slow. In deep, out slow. I was resolute not to use the little pills in my pocket. I could do this. Just don't concentrate on the plane. It seemed as though the plane was getting smaller, and I could feel the miles of empty space increasing beneath me. It was such a long, long way down.
"Just think of it like being in a car," Owen said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. He leaned back in his leather seat, looking far too at ease for being suspended in a tin can a mile above the ground.
"Right. A car. Just a really weird car," I said through gritted teeth. My jaw was going to hurt tomorrow. This was just a quick flight to New York. We were leaving a little early so I could spend some time with Emma in the city before we took the long flight to Dubai. I had no idea how I was going to survive.
"Something to drink?" a stewardess asked, her blue uniform crisp and perfect. I wondered if she liked her job. I wouldn't have.
"Vodka, please. A big shot of vodka," Owen told her. "And an iced tea for me, please."
The stewardess smiled warmly and placed a hand on Owen's shoulder as she walked past. I didn't even care. If she brought me the vodka and we didn't die on this plane, she could kiss him. She returned in a moment, a tall glass of tea for Owen and a nice tumbler of clear liquid for me. She even brought a little bottle of cranberry juice.
"Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else," she said, handing me the drinks. I took a big gulp, feeling it burn down my esophagus. I could do this, and a little liquid courage would help.
"You're doing great," Owen said as he sipped on his iced tea. I envied how he could look so relaxed on this flying death trap. "We'll be there in two and a half hours."
"Right. Because that's practically no time at all."
"Have another drink." He kissed my cheek and turned on the TV across from us. A castle and music I recognized instantly filled the screen. "And something to keep you entertained."
I couldn't help but grin as the animated movie from my childhood started. I sipped on my drink, feeling slightly more relaxed as I hummed along with the opening credits. A bright side occurred to me about flying. I could sing along with the movie, and the noise of the engines would drown out my lack of vocal abilities.
I could do this.
***
I peeked open an eye, the light sending a sliver of pain directly into my head. I knew I shouldn't have had that second drink. My stomach rolled, promising me that if I moved, whatever was left in it would come up. As if there were anything even left in it after we landed.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," a soft female voice called to me. I pouted, wanting to throw a pillow at the voice, but I knew the motion would just make everything hurt again. "Here have some of this."
I felt a glass press up against my lips and I unhappily opened my mouth, letting a dribble of lemon flavored drink in. If I could keep that down, I knew I would be a happier camper. Keyword being "if."
"Where am I?" I croaked. My throat felt like fire. I was never drinking again.
"Owen's hotel room. You have got to remember to eat before you drink next time," Emma answered. "Here, have another sip."
I sat up slowly and took the glass from her. She looked far too perky and pleasant. I gave her a dirty look as I took a bigger gulp of the drink. It was at least making me feel more awake.
"What time is it?" I asked, glancing around the room. I sat in the middle of a king-sized bed surrounded by puffy pillows. The drapes were thankfully pulled shut, but I could imagine giant glass windows or a balcony behind them. I would have liked it if my stomach didn't feel like a tiny alien might pop out of it at any second.
"A little after ten in the morning. Though, that's Eastern Time, so it'll feel earlier for you."
"Why did you wake me up?" I growled. I just wanted to dive back under my sheets and never move again. Maybe I would bring some of this magic drink with me, though.
"Because, we have stuff to do today. Remember, we made plans?"
I groaned. Emma wanted to show me the city, and we were supposed to go out shopping in true New York style with Rachel. I silently cursed the flight attendant and her crisp uniform for bringing me the second tumbler of vodka.
"Get up. You aren't that hung-over," Emma said, nudging me gently.
"Yes, I am," I fired back. She laughed and stood up from the bed.
"Drink that up. I'll start a shower for you and get some breakfast up here. We are going to have fun today."
I groaned again and slumped back down into the pillows. It was going to be a long day.
***
Whatever drink Emma had given me had worked miracles. The shower definitely helped, and the toast she forced down my throat probably did something too. By the time we were in the lobby, I only had a slight headache and thought my stomach should stay put for the rest of the day. As we exited the elevator, a well-dressed woman in her mid-forties hurried over to meet us.
"Hi, Rachel, sorry we're late. Rough flight last night," Emma greeted her.
"No problem at all," Rachel said with a smile. "It's nice to see you again, Kaylee. If we're ready, Dean has the car just outside."
The three of us exited the hotel room, the sky heavy with an impending rainstorm. Waiting by the curb was a sleek SUV with tinted windows. Rachel slid into the front seat, and Emma and I took the back. There was an unspoken tension between Rachel and Dean, but I couldn't figure out if they were fighting love or just plain fighting.
"Kaylee, you remember Dean?" Emma asked, gesturing toward the driver. An athletic-looking man sat in the front seat, his dark hair peppered with gray. He turned around and grinned, reaching a hand back to shake mine.
"I'm glad to see Emma finally got you out of bed. We have some shopping for you ladies to do," he said with a grin. Dean merged the car effortlessly out into the heavy New York traffic. A thunderstorm warning for later in the day came across the radio, but Dean turned it down and flipped on some light music. I kept my nose pressed to the glass, trying to absorb the whole city from the car window. Before, I had been a little too wasted to notice just how big everything was on my way in.
The city buildings rose up, reaching past where I could see, monsters of gray stone and cement. Well-dressed people hurried back and forth on the busy streets, everyone doing their best to ignore everyone else. It was so different from home. I was glad I didn't have to drive, as cars ducked and weaved around us, Dean managing to slide into spaces I never would have tried for. I think there were more cars on this one street than there were in the whole city of Des Moines.
"How do you live here, Emma?" I asked as we stopped for traffic. The street looked like sales lot for used cars than a means of travel.
"What? The traffic?" She shrugged. "I guess I've gotten used to it. The city seemed so big and strange at first, but now, I kind of like it."
"I don't think I could ever get used to this." The city was just too big and too busy for me. Give me my quiet Midwestern city over this any day. Not that it wasn't impressive, it just wasn't something I wanted to live in.
Dean navigated the SUV down another street, merging through a sea of bright yellow taxi cabs to pull up in front of a stylish brick building. A big glass window held mannequins in graceful poses, their clothes perfect and beautiful to the point where I thought they might come alive and coax us to buy their wares. Rachel led Emma and me inside while Dean waited with the car.