Page 76 of Crazy In Love
Bridger
Everything had been workedout before we even left Rosewood River for Paris. My meeting was scheduled for tomorrow morning, and the antique dealer wrote back that they could meet with us tomorrow afternoon.
Emilia had finally relaxed, after asking Lars endless questions about the safety of the plane. She’d then chatted for an unusual amount of time with the flight attendant because she couldn’t believe how fabulous the onboard snacks were. She’d then grilled me some more about what we’d be doing and where we’d be staying, and then, without warning, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
She was a fascinating woman, to say the least.
I’d worked in the seat beside her for the last few hours while she slept.
I couldn’t help but look over at her a few times.
There was something very angelic about Emilia.
She looked incredibly peaceful in her sleep.
Her cheek was pressed against the pillow on the seat, her dark hair standing out against her fair skin as it framed her facebefore falling down around her shoulders. Her lips were pink and plump, long black lashes curled where her lids were closed.
She was stunning, no doubt about it.
Her scent was consuming my every thought, as jasmine and vanilla had now become something I craved. I hoped that taking this trip together would get her out of my system.
Typically, the more time I spent with someone, the more annoyed I’d become.
I wasn’t a patient man, so I was just waiting for that irritation to set in.
I’d actually found it very endearing that she worried about the cost of the mantel, even though I’d made it clear that she could spend whatever she needed on this project.
Yet, she was still being diligent about everything she purchased. It said a lot about her.
“Mmmmm.” A soft moan left her lips, and I quickly turned to look at her. Her hands moved together and found their way beneath her cheek, resting against the pillow.
Emilia Taylor looks like a fuckin’ angel.
I’d been surprised that she wanted to sit in the seat beside me, when we had the whole plane to ourselves. I figured she’d want to stretch out. But I think she’d been nervous about being on a small aircraft, so she’d taken the seat next to mine.
I spent another hour working on the proposal for my meeting tomorrow with a technology company that was interested in some software we’d recently developed.
Emilia moved beside me and sighed, and I glanced over to see her stretching her arms over her head and yawning.
“Hey,” she whispered. “How long did I sleep?”
“A few hours. Cecilia is about to bring dinner out, so you woke up just in time.”
I tucked my laptop back in my briefcase, just as two trays of filet mignon, scalloped potatoes, and salad were set in front ofus. We’d both ordered a glass of chardonnay, and we reached for our glasses at the same time.
“I can’t believe I slept so long,” Emilia said. “This looks delicious.”
“You’re clearly tired. Are you not sleeping enough?”
She shrugged. “I’m excited about this new project, so I’ve been working late every night, and then I’m up early to get to the flower shop.”
She cut into her steak and groaned after she took the first bite. “This is so good.”
“So what’s the deal with your mother being so critical?” I asked. I’d thought about what she’d shared last night, and it fit with what I’d witnessed that day at her flower shop.
“I don’t really know? It’s just her thing, I guess.” She was quiet, as if the topic was painful to talk about.
She’d mentioned my family being perfect, and me not being able to understand her situation, which I’d thought about ever since she said it.
