Chapter 13

Mona

“I can’t believe we have a private jet,” I said, shaking my head as we approached the airport.

Oliver shrugged.

“Masterson insisted on it,” he said grinning in my direction. “And I’m not about to turn him down.”

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. It had all gone down so fast. On Monday morning, Oliver was standing in my office with his eyebrows raised, asking if I wanted to come to Europe with him, and now, here we were, a few minutes away from getting on a ridiculously luxurious, private jet and flying out to London. To fucking London!

I crossed and uncrossed my legs and shot Oliver a look across the taxi. I knew this was just a business trip and that was all, but we were still spending the next four days alone together. Just us. How was that not exciting? Anything could happen, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

We pulled up at the airport, and the driver who’d been sent to the office stepped out to open my door for me. I smiled at him appreciatively and wondered if people ever got used to taking this kind of treatment. I hoped I never did.

“Be my guest,” Oliver said as he gestured for me to ahead of him.

I could see a glint in his eye that gave away he was delighted to be able to give me this kind of experience. I made my way slowly toward the jet, putting one foot in front of the other, as though I expected the ground to vanish out from underneath me at any second. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

There was someone waiting for us at the bottom of the steps, a woman a little older than me. She beamed as I got closer, as though she couldn’t be more delighted to see me.

“Welcome,” she said, nodding and sweeping her hand up the steps. “I’m Gloria. I’ll be serving you today.”

She had a British accent, the kind you heard on stereotypical TV characters in British sitcoms, and I had to suppress an amused giggle.

I made my way up the steps and into the aircraft, gripping the handrail tightly to make sure the wind didn’t whip me out onto the runway.

It was warm inside, the lighting soft, and everything around me surely cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment. My mouth hung open as I looked around. This place was incredible. I had flown a couple of times before, but none of the aircraft I’d been on had looked anything close to this swanky.

The space was made up for maybe half a dozen people, at most, with a handful of luxurious, leather seats next to gleaming windows, and low tables that looked like they were plucked straight from an interior design magazine.

Another woman greeted me as I walked in, and handed me a glass of champagne. “Welcome, Mrs. Paulson,” she said and nodded with a professional smile.

“Oh, I’m not-” I tried to correct her, but she had already turned to greet Oliver, and I shrugged. Not that big a deal.

I made my way up the aisle and sat in one of the enormous seats near the back. Oliver joined me, planting himself directly opposite me and raising his glass.

“Mrs. Paulson.” he smirked, and I rolled my eyes, leaning over to clink my glass against his.

“What was that about?” I replied, taking a sip of my drink. God knows how expensive this champagne was, but it was damn good.

“I think the Masterson group are a pretty traditional company,” he explained. “They’d just assume that you were my partner, you know?”

“Should we tell them?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“Probably wouldn’t do any harm to let them keep thinking we’re married,” he replied. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“If it helps you get the account.”

I grabbed the ring that usually lived on my index finger and switched it over to the ring finger of my left hand, waggling my fingers in front of my face to show him. “I do.”

“I’ve got to say, I’ve done pretty well for our honeymoon,” he said laughing as he gestured around, and I nodded.

“Yeah, this place is pretty amazing,” I admitted. “Not quite what I pictured for my honeymoon but…”

“Why, what did you have in mind?”

He grinned mischievously, and my stomach flipped. Here I was, talking about my fucking honeymoon with a guy I’d sworn I was going to keep things platonic with.

“I always liked the idea of a road trip,” I replied. “Go see both our families, explore. Just drive around and hang out.”

“I can’t imagine ever liking anyone enough to risk spending that much time with just the two of us on our own.”

He shook his head.

“No, I think I’d go out to Europe.”

“Just like this?” I asked.

“Maybe without the business meetings,” he admitted, “but yeah, something like this.”

“Sounds pretty perfect.” I cocked my head at him. “Though, you’d have to stop having your dates turn up at the office if you want to find a wife.”

“Oh, come on,” he protested playfully. “What kind of woman wouldn’t let me have my old dates hanging out at work all the time?”

“A much more understanding one than me.”

I raised my eyebrows at him and finished up my champagne. Almost without a pause, the hostess whisked my empty glass away and placed another one in my hand. I raised my eyebrows at her as she backed off, surprised at just how slick this entire operation was.

“You’ll be a great wife. You’re so organized. You’ll keep any guy on the right track.”

“I’m not going to marry anyone who needs to be kept on track,” I shot back.

“I don’t imagine you will, no,” he agreed, cocking his head. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” I said, shaking my head. “Not for a while. Not since high school.”

“Seriously?”

He sounded surprised.

“Why? You think I should have settled down by now?”

“No, it’s not that. I just, I don’t know, I assumed someone like you would have found someone by now. That’s all.”

“Just me and my roommate.” I shrugged.

The alcohol was loosening me up, and I knew it. I should have slowed down, but I was enjoying myself too much.

“No one in college?” he asked.

“No one worth mentioning,” I replied. “I was too busy studying to date.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he joked.

“I don’t even think I want to imagine you in college,” I teased.”

“Ha, I wasn’t that bad,” he protested. “I was busy, too. Didn’t get where I am today by dating too much.”

“So you’re catching up now?”

“Pretty much.” He nodded. “Feels that way.”

“That’s what I’ll do,” I replied with certainty. “When I’ve gotten to where I want to be in my career, I’ll start dating properly. I don’t have time for it now.”

“Where do you want to be in your career?” he asked, and I realized with a start what this felt like – a date. A first date. All the questions, the alcohol, the unfamiliar setting. It felt like we were testing the waters, getting to know each other for the first time. Which, well, maybe we were.

“I… I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands. “I’m only just out of college. I don’t know exactly where I want to be yet, but I know I want it to be good.”

“I’m certain you’ll get whatever it is you’re looking for,” he offered warmly, flashing me one of those devastatingly gorgeous smiles. I felt my heart flutter and averted my gaze down to my lap, forcing myself to take a deep breath.

I had a feeling this was going to be a long flight.