Ava

I stand in front of my open dresser drawers for what feels like forever, staring at the neat pile of panties and bras all stuck together like Russian nesting dolls. My suitcase is open on the desk next to me. I am definitely supposed to be packing, but my brain is filled with a sound like cicadas, sawing incessantly.

What am I doing? Am I crazy?

If I hurry, I can still get down to the ballroom for the last conference, the one on strategies for team-building in a new environment. That would be handy, right? I mean, I’ve never had a corporate job, so I don’t know anything about it. Even if Ethan’s offer is for real, and not just a handy excuse to make me his sex slave for the summer, I’m going to come in there completely strategy free, as far as teambuilding is concerned. That’s pretty irresponsible, isn’t it? In case he has a real job for me?

Maybe I should go downstairs. At least check in.

No. I’m being a chicken. I should put these panties into that luggage, and meet Ethan in his limo. That’s what any sane person would do.

But somehow, I can’t make my hands do it. Finally, I just slap at my thighs in frustration and stomp off toward the bathroom, thinking maybe the change of scenery will somehow organize me into action here.

The bathroom is still fairly put together. I see that maid service has brought me a fresh new stack of towels, new bottles of soap and shampoo, and a selection of moist towelettes in individual packets. You know what, I’m going to take these with me. Even if I don’t go with Ethan, these are definitely coming home with me. I just love things that come in little packages.

When I come out of the bathroom, Bea is standing there, scowling at my luggage.

She tips her head toward me, narrowing her eyes.

“You realize you have come to approximately zero of the conference, right?” she huffs, arching her eyebrows dramatically. “You have gotten the zero rate of return on your investment, I just learned.”

“Yeah, about that,” I start.

“I mean, I just learned that,” she repeats meaningfully. “Just now. In the panel session I was at. The investments overview.”

“Yeah, I get it, Bea.”

“For people with jobs, who need to invest their income,” she continues, pretending not to hear me. "You know, who have salaries… that they need to invest…”

“I kind of do have a job,” I mumble.

She takes a step toward me, her arms floating up from her sides as though lifted by an invisible wind.

“Excuse me? You have a what? How is that possible since you have not given out a single resume since we’ve been here, Ava?”

I shrug, looking away. She’s about to figure it out, any second, but I don’t want her reading it all over my face. “Oh, you know, it’s really nothing. Just an internship.”

Bea walks in a small circle, looking around my room. She points suddenly at my luggage and the open drawer.

“Wait, so you’re really leaving?” she asks incredulously. “Like, you’re leaving early? You’re just done?"”

I meet her eyes and see her face change immediately.

“Oh,” she sighs. “Ethan gave you a ‘job.’”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to pack up. We’re leaving.”

“Just like that?”

She shrugs, then glances up at the ceiling, then glances in the mirror. She seems to weigh the situation in her mind and finally holds her hand out in front of her like she’s balancing knowledge in the pit of her palm.

“Well aren’t you just the luckiest job seeker in the whole world?” she sniffs. “Make sure you Instagram the whole thing, okay? Does he have a private jet or something?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know about that…”

“I bet he totally has a private jet,” she says to herself, strolling over to the long line of brightly lit windows and dropping into the club chair, crossing her legs with a flourish.

“He probably has several jets. A guy with a yacht in the San Francisco Bay probably also has jets… cars… houses? Where is he taking you?”

I creep back over to the dresser, feeling just about ready to pack again. Bea doesn’t seem alarmed by the situation at all. This is not what I was expecting.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” she muses. “I mean, if he takes you to Houston or Philadelphia or Miami or even LA, what’s the difference?”

Yeah, what’s the difference? I ask myself. I’ve already sort of signed on, pretty much convinced myself that the summer fling is the best possible thing for me, even without the ruse of a supposed job offer. Does it matter what city I end up in? It doesn’t really matter what my internship is or isn’t. I’m just going with the flow. Just being breezy, carefree Ava.

“You know, I can see this. I actually like this side of you,” Bea says as though she’s reading my mind. “Usually you’re so…”

I pick up the stack of panties, letting it hover over the luggage before dropping them in.

“I’m usually so… what?”

“You know,” she shrugs. “Uptight.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I’m not uptight. That is not nice to say at all. I’m just the right amount of… tight.”

“A twenty-two-year-old virgin is definitely uptight, Ava,” she informs me wryly. She might have a point, but it is still not a nice thing to say. “You know, if you let your guard down a little, you might enjoy it. And like you said before, Ethan is the perfect man to practice with. Free and easy. No strings.”

I open up another drawer, removing a small stack of T-shirts and some fluttery, wraparound skirts.

“Well it’s an internship,” I mumble, hearing how thin and unbelievable that sounds.

“Ha!” she barks. “Sure it is, Ava. Or it’s just a convenient excuse to get your freak on.”

“No strings, right,” I say again, hearing the words out loud. It’s good. It feels solid.

I hear her sigh as she leans back in the chair, gazing out the window thoughtfully. “Just promise me you’ll have fun,” she smiles. “Whatever comes at you… just go for it. This is like a fairytale, you know? Like an absolute fairytale. Don’t miss any of it.”

All my clothes are in the suitcase now and I turn to her. She seems completely at ease, totally encouraging and as supportive as always.

“Do you really mean that? Just go for it?”

“Why wouldn’t I mean it?” she asks me.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe I’m being too rash? Just packing up and leaving with Ethan Mercer? Mysterious billionaire? Who my whole family hates with the fiery passion of a thousand suns?”

“Now that’s uptight Ava talking again,” she reminds me, stabbing the air with her pointy fingernail at me. “You don’t need to be listening to her for a few months, okay? Just do it. Take a chance for once in your life.”

She pushes herself out of the chair, coming toward me with her arms out for a hug. After our embrace, she makes a point of zipping my luggage closed and dragging it off the desk to hand it to me, then practically shoving me out the door.

Ethan is standing by the elevator when I arrive, a knowing smirk on his beautiful, full lips.

“That didn’t take too long,” he smiles appreciatively.

I feel his eyes slide over me, dancing over every curve like it’s his fingers. I suppress a shudder and try to smile, swallowing hard.

“Were you waiting for me this whole time?”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to change your mind,” he smirks, thumbing the down button. “Did you tell your parents not to expect you for a little while?”

“Oh, yeah. I should do that,” I mumble, digging my phone out of my purse. I get on the elevator without looking, concentrating on the email I need to send. After what seems like a long time, I finally decide on a simple message.

Subject: Exciting opportunity!

Hi Mom and Dad, I found an unbelievable internship at Century Group. I’m so lucky, I’m the only one who got the job! I need to be out of town for at least a few weeks doing training. They want me to start right away. Love you! I’ll write soon.

Ava

It doesn’t seem like enough, but it’s going to have to do. Does it sound natural? Does it in any way imply that I’m alone in an elevator with Ethan Mercer at this very moment?

It’s hard for me to tell. My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears I can barely string a thought together.

“Is that it?” he asks me when the little whoosh sound effect indicates that I’ve sent the email out.

“I guess so,” I smile, unable to do much else. Something about being around him makes me want to smile all the time. Helplessly, giddily. I feel sort of stupid and bubbly. Not stupid in a bad way, just dumbfounded. Looking at him seems to wipe all the thoughts out of my brain.

He reaches over, picking up my suitcase from where it’s leaning in front of me. When the elevator door opens, everyone turns around to look. Ethan slides a pair sunglasses over his face. Mine are still in my purse. As he begins to stride across the hotel foyer, he can shade his eyes from everyone, but I can’t. I see all of their stares, everyone. They all see me with him. The can see us cutting across the foyer for the second time, leaving the conference early. I’m sure at least a few people have a strong suspicion about what’s going on.

That makes me feel ridiculously powerful. Is that wrong?

On the ride to the airport, he keeps his distance, but not too distant. Friendly. He’s in that sweet spot of proximity, where he is someone I’ve known for a very long time. He’s not crawling all over me like some kind of frat boy, and not pushing himself away like the stranger I expected him to be.

His knee is only an inch away from my knee, close enough I can feel the heat. He meets my eyes as he talks, describing how he went into the Marines, then left the service and returned home. When he got back, he found himself somewhat less irritable about his family and their semi-legal financial dealings since he’d seen the world, seen what life is really about as he put it. Their disagreements had gotten much smaller once he’d experienced the confusion and intense emotions of war.

As he talks he drifts off that topic, and onto another one about technology and financing, almost seeming to be playing me a lullaby with his voice. Consoling me, calming me. Luring me into feeling at ease, when really, I have every reason not to feel that way.

Remembering that, I suddenly get anxious again. His bright eyes immediately cloud over and his hand drops to my knee, lightly drumming with his fingertips. He knows; he can tell. As soon as he touches me, my concern evaporates again and I’m completely focused on that one connection, that electric spark between us. The tips of his fingers are so alive, they practically crackle.

We drive through a series of winding roads, coming out into a wide strip close to a private airfield. He drives us right up to one of those round-roofed hangars where a sleek, angular jet is parked in front with several people in orange jumpsuits scurrying around the bottom.

“Okay, here we are,” he smiles. Then he leans forward, his face close to mine. I stare into his bright eyes, ready to connect to him again, feeling a sort of willingness surge through me.

“You still trust me?” he whispers, his breath dancing between my lips, landing on my tongue.

“I think I do,” I confess.

“We’re going to have a wonderful time,” he says encouragingly. “A fantastic time. I swear it.”

I sort of want to giggle at the fairytale quality of “I swear it.” But I realize he means it. He’s making an absolute promise.

“I believe you,” I tell him, and I mean it.

He tugs me by the hand, leaning out of the limo onto the white, sizzling tarmac. It’s a concrete driveway, only about half a mile wide. It collects the sun’s heat, radiating it back up in wiggly waves. Someone grabs my luggage and gently places it in the belly of the jet.

Ethan leads the way, heading for the staircase. A woman in a strangely vintage blue uniform smiles at us, and as we enter, I see the captain behind her, complete with dark blue hats and shirt, with a navy tie with a gold tie clip. They look like extras from a movie set.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mercer,” they say in unison, smiling with that easy familiarity that indicates they’ve done this quite a bit.

“Afternoon. We’ll be fine back here, Nadine.” Ethan smiles back at the flight attendant as he guides me into the main cabin of the plane. He slides the burled wood pocket door closed behind her, cutting her off from us. Suddenly we’re alone in the jet, a remarkably comfortable space that’s almost like a bedroom, but with curves in unexpected places and those tiny, low windows.

“Is this your, um, jet?”

He slides his arms around me, pulling me close and dipping his head down to nuzzle the seam of my neck and shoulder, taking my breath away.

“One of several,” he sighs distractedly, nudging the strap of my dress aside with his nose. His lips trace dozens of kisses along my collarbone, overwhelming my senses with wave after wave of chills.

“You’ll want to be seated for takeoff,” he informs me. My mouth is dry, so I just nod. If he keeps taking my breath away like this, I may never be able to speak again.

The interior has swivel chairs on one side with tables in between, then long sofas on the other. He guides me toward the sofa, his lips never far from my goosebumped skin.

“This is the smoothest possible ride,” he informs me. “You’re going to love this.”

I see the ground moving through the windows and hear the sound of the jet engines revving up. As we shoot across the tarmac, he pulls me into his arms, his hands sliding up the outside of my thighs toward my hips. I sit in front of him, between his open legs, gasping as the increased pressure pushes me back into his body.

His fingers drift between my thighs, nudging my legs open, probing the borders of my panties. I’m breathless and overwhelmed, almost falling into some kind of dream as his fingers slide against me, urging deeper and deeper, finding me slick and wanting already.

“Tell me you will always want me like this,” he whispers into my ear from behind as his electric fingers circle my clit, turning me on like a bright light.

“I will, I will,” I breathe, shuddering. I can’t imagine not wanting him.

I’m forced against Ethan as the plane rises into the air, leaving the ground below. I hear the landing gear thunking against the bottom of the cabin as I grind against his fingers, guiding my pulsing, swollen sex against him. He strums and teases me, drawing out a quick climax that I hadn’t even realized I’ve been holding back. My body bucks and shivers, melting against him, collapsing helplessly in his arms. It’s as though I’ve been holding my breath for my whole life, and here he is, finally letting it out of me.