Page 17 of Rival to the Billionaire

I feel my heart constrict into a fist at the thought of a life without my family around.

Suddenly, the plane begins to pick up speed: something happens, and the air pressure in my ears change. That's when I hear Jenny let out a little whimper.

I look back to find her smooth hands have stopped moving as she stares out the window, her body almost frozen.

"Jenny?" I ask her.

"I wish there were another way to travel," she says. "I really hate this. I really do."

I sigh. I can tell she's feeling the altitude of the plane, but I don't know how to help her.

I glance down at the knitting needles in her hand.

"So, when did you decide you'd become a grandma?" I ask her.

"Um. What?"

"Look at what you're doing. You're knitting." I smile. "So…when did you become a grandma?"

Her cheeks flush in embarrassment, and I watch as she fumbles with her needles and yarn.

"I picked it up about a year ago,” she says. “Thought it looked interesting.”

"Was it something you learned in a class?"

She nods, a lock of hair falling into her face. "Yes. But I haven't been doing it as much lately. I should, though. I have a knitting circle. We get together on Monday evenings, and I make us our usual meal: spaghetti bolognese, salad, and a bottle of wine."

“So that’s the pull, huh? You and the rest of these, uh, needle-hocking biddies sit and get plastered for an hour?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and smiling. "I'd like to be a fly on the wall at that party."

“Hardy har har. Laugh if you want to, but knitting's relaxing. It helps me think. It's how Carmina and I became close friends. I invited Hare & Holeton employees to join. And she was the only one who responded."

"Yeah, 'cause most people aren't ninety-two years old."

She laughs, and the sound of it seems to brighten up the whole cabin. "Yeah, she's good company. And I’m teaching her to be a better knitter. Trying to get her started on bobbles."

"Bobbles, huh? I—I don't know what the hell a bobble is. Sounds dirty."

"I guess…I think it's sort of like an art. You have to have some talent. It takes more than simply being a beginner."

And then she begins to explain.

I notice her posture relax; her shoulders not so stiff as she speaks to me this time.

It's working.

Talking about knitting while she's doing it keeps Jenny centered, and I find myself interested by all she has to say. The damn knitting sounds more complicated than it seems, yet she makes it look easy.

The brief thought of Derek's earlier text about spending time with Jenny seems to mock me, swimming into my mind before I forget about it.

Soon, I discover that distracting Jenny from the flight starts to soothe me, too. I begin to relax for the first time since we left the ground.

Thirty thousand miles above sea-level, with Jenny Forde's voice humming near my ear, I sit back in my seat and close my eyes, letting the pull of sleep take over me.

ChapterSix

JENNY

Arriving in Vegas is an out-of-body experience.

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