Page 75 of Away We Go

“I’m going to need to send you more articles to help with this fear of flying, it seems,” he whispers into my ear. I turn to look at him, our lips within inches of each other.

“And I’m going to send you some articles about how to follow instructions.”

His brow furrows and I tilt my head towards the bedroom. “What happened? The last I remember, we were going to share.”

A muscle in his cheek bounces and he shifts away from me. “Plans changed.”

He stands up, signalling the end of the discussion, and gathers up my things.

“I can do that,” I elbow him out of the way, annoyed about the whole thing. It shouldn’t hurt that Nicky didn’t want to share a bed with me, but it does. For reasons I’m not willing to dissect at this moment.

“You ready?”

The plane has emptied of everyone but us, and I give him a stiff nod, walking ahead of him and exiting the plane. To continue the extravagance of travelling on a private plane, a black Bentley SUV is waiting for us on the tarmac.

“Wow,” I whisper, slipping into the back seat, running my hands along the buttery leather. “Fancy.”

Nicky laughs. “You’ve been in fancy cars before.”

“But not like this one.” I point to the row of seats facing us. “This is like a non-tacky limo.”

The door next to me opens and Frieda takes one of the empty seats opposite us. “Did you have a pleasant sleep?” she asks with a sweet smile.

Is she being friendly or was that a dig?It’s hard to tell with her. She’s the definition of unreadable.

I shrug and smile back at her. “Yes, thank you. I’m feeling refreshed and ready for the weekend ahead.”

“It’s an important one,” she replies, giving the man next to me a meaningful look. “You’ve got a decent lead in the Championship, but Nathan is gaining on you. You need to keep your eye on the prize.”

I glance at Nicky, who’s got his eyes on me. Tilting my head in Frieda’s direction, I mentally tell him to pay attention. This stuff is important.

He sighs and turns to look out of the window. “I know all of this, Frieda. I can do the maths as well as you.”

She bares her teeth at him. “You just don’t need any distractions.”

I look between them, feeling like I’m missing something. What they’re saying sounds straightforward, but there’s a definite undercurrent of something unspoken between them.

Am I the distraction?

I shake this thought from my mind—not everything is about you, Cherry!—choosing to let them deal with whatever it is they’re saying but not saying.

“So,” I drawl when I can stand the tension in the car no longer. “This is my first time in Canada. Is there anything I need to try or experience while I’m here?”

Frieda flicks her attention from Nicky back to me and her serious face softens. “You must try poutine. And of course, Canadian maple syrup.”

Both are on my list already, so I nod. “Thanks. I can’t wait to try them both.”

We fall into a silence that is only slightly more comfortable than before, and I divide my gaze between the stunning scenery outside my window and Nicky’s glorious profile. It’s a real toss-up which view I appreciate more.

We’ve been driving for almost thirty minutes when the unnerving quiet in the car is broken by a barrage of pinging notifications lighting up Frieda’s phone. I watch with a sense of foreboding as her face changes. Whatever she’s reading on her screen, it doesn’t look like good news.

“We have a problem.”

Nicky arches a brow.

“TMZis about to release a story about you,” she says.

Nicky motions for her to continue.

---