Page 15 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
She froze, and her face turned down, like sadness was dragging it low. She looked like a kicked puppy. “I don’t have it. It's back home in Columbia.” She gave me a sad smile, waving a hand like it meant nothing. “It was a bit of a crazy idea anyway.”
Sampson grunted, though he looked like he was back to dozing. “Don’t stress it, Good Girl. I’ll take care of it.”
She blinked at him, where he was strewn across the couch in uncaring insouciance, and then looked over at me, like I was the calm voice of reason. “Can he do that?” she whispered.
“Don’t know if you fully comprehend this yet, Aviva, but once you spend some time with these two, you soon will. There is no obstacle that money can’t overcome, and Sampson is richer than God.” I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Welcome to how the other half live.”
Chapter8
Aviva
First class was an experience. Actually, being with the guys in general was an experience. They were moved to the front of lines, given extra attention, given the best of everything because they oozed two things. Money and good looks. I tried to ignore the incredulous eye widening that all the customer service people got when they saw me tagging along at the back, and after one gate assistant tried to stop me going on with them—because I was an obvious interloper—Hendrick had taken to throwing an arm around my shoulders and holding me close, like we were lovers. The incredulous looks got worse, and some were downright catty, but at least no one barred my entry anywhere.
But first class itself? It was a little slice of luxury, even though it was only a two and a bit hour flight. We were seated immediately, in seats that were as wide as a recliner and with enough leg room for an NBA player. It was better than being crammed in economy, but the guys still looked reasonably disdainful. Hendrick raised an eyebrow at Sampson.
“What? You said I couldn’t bring the jet. I’m not your travel agent, asshole.” He slumped down in his seat, with Otto sitting next to him, and Hendrick and I across the aisle.
Once we were seated, a pretty hostess came down, greeting us with champagne and ‘fuck me’ eyes cast in the direction of Sampson and Otto. At least she kept them to herself in regards to Hendrick, who I assume she thought was my boyfriend.
“Please, enjoy the complimentary champagne as the flight is boarding. If you need anything further, don’t be afraid to press the assistance button.”
She bustled off to greet other passengers, and I belted myself into my seat. I turned off my phone, knowing I only had a few more hours until my parents arrived at the center and realized I wasn’t there.
Otto leaned across the aisle. “Now, I know you said no questions…”
I grinned at him. He was really easy to like, dammit. “You’re going to struggle with that one, aren’t you?”
Sampson snorted a laugh, and Otto elbowed him in the ribs. “I have to email our travel agent about a destination, even if it’s just for the first leg.”
I chewed my lip, pulling out the copy of Jules Verne that I’d stolen from the center. Hendrick raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t see anything about being a klepto in your medical files, Viva.”
“Of course you read her medical files,” Otto groaned.
I ignored them both, and flicked the book open to the last page. I’d read the note over and over before deciding to do this, talking myself in and out of it several times before committing. It read:
Come and find me, and if our destinies are meant to intertwine, I’ll be waiting with the Francs at the corner of 5th Ave and E79th.
Hendrick read over my shoulder, then gave me a look that I knew too well. I’d given it to myself in the mirror numerous times since I read the words.
“We’re traveling around Europe because you’re chasing someone who could’ve written in that book five years ago? You know how that sounds, right?”
It sounded crazy, I knew that. But I tensed my jaw and glared at the three of them. “Rule number three.” Otto was looking at me, not with incredulity, but with actual concern. Like I was actually mentally unwell still. Heat flooded to my cheeks and I doubled down on my stubbornness. “Maybe he’ll be in New York and this will be a very short trip, okay? Or maybe he won’t be there at all and we’ve had a great trip around the world. Just… let it go.”
Hendrick shrugged, and grabbed the book, flicking through the pages. The Captain came over the speaker and gave the usual speech, while the flight attendants ran through the safety briefing that no one in the first class section actually watched.
Finally, we were taxiing down the runway, and I gripped the seat as we lifted into the air. It always terrified me, this moment where you were hurtling down the asphalt in a giant tin can only held to land by some tiny wheels that they literally pulled off the ground.
We jerked up and down a bit, bumping across the runway, and my heart stopped. This was the part where we hurtled off the end of the runway and into a steep embankment, where the plane snapped in half, and the front—with all the first class passengers—burst into flames.
A warm hand covered mine, and I realized I’d been gripping Hendrick’s forearm like a vice. “It’s okay, we’re in the air now. Safer than driving a car.”
I unclenched my fingers from his sleeve and gave him a tight smile. “Sorry,” I mumbled, and when the hostess came back around with a bottle of champagne, I gladly held my glass out for more.
Two episodes of some cop show, one gourmet snack of cheese that smelled like ass, three complimentary chocolates and too much champagne later, we were touching down at JFK. We alighted first, and I swerved a little bit as I stood. The champagne had definitely gone to my head. Otto put his hand out to steady me as Hendrick carried my duffle bag.
I dreaded turning my phone back on, but as we stood at the baggage claim, I switched it off airplane mode.
Still nothing. I breathed out a sigh of relief, then guilt washed over me. They were going to drive all the way to Tampa and I wasn’t going to be there.
