Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Tyson smooths a hand down his tweed sports coat, not the least bit offended. The cocky bastard. If there are two things I know about Tyson Ackres—and I know many, considering we’ve been friends going on a decade—he likes to dress sharply and flirt with women.
The list of women in his contacts could rival Casanova’s.
Sadly for them, he’s no longer on the market. For the last three months, he’s been a one-woman man. I’ve never seen him so caught up in someone, and most shocking of all, he wasn’t hooked by an attention-seeking socialite or some status-hungry model—it was a working mom of two, named Samara. Tyson was on a work flight from Moscow to London four months ago when he struck up a conversation with a shy flight attendant. The way he tells it, she was eager to do her job and get out of his sight. He was eager to get to know her better. Eventually, he wore down her defenses. When they got to London and he learned that they both had one night together in the city, he begged her to give him a chance. Despite her initial reservations, she agreed to a date.
I think she could really be it for him. Shocking as it seems.
“Does Samara know about your past?” I ask now, trying to needle him like he’s been needling me.
He shrugs. “She does. I’ve been honest with her. And by the way, you don’t have to say it like that. I was single, and I dated around. I never cheated. I never acted like a heartless womanizer.”
He’s being honest there, at least.
“Speaking of women,” he continues, “who was the enchanting brunette I saw you speaking to earlier in the observation lounge? The one chasing you down.”
“No one.”
“So you don’t deny she was enchanting?”
“Enchanting? Who talks like that?”
“Can you two hens bicker somewhere else?” Captain Neal grumbles.
Tyson can’t help but smile.
But I’m not smiling.
I bristle at the reminder of Casey.
Casey Hughes.
Jesus, talk about a blast from the past. I haven’t thought about her in years. Longer. I mean, I’m surprised I even recognized her. But I did, immediately. There was no lag time for my brain, no stalling as I ran through a mental Rolodex of contacts. Even all grown up, styled, and made up in a way that barely resembled the middle schooler I used to know, I pinpointed her immediately—the girl I ate lunch with a handful of times. My long-forgotten quiz-bowl crush.
Back then, I really liked her. She was smart and nice and beautiful. Of course that was all a front. Though there was no way to prove it at the time, I know she sabotaged me all those years ago. After the quiz-bowl district finals, while I was squinting through my shattered glasses, she fled from the stage like she was guilty of murder. Meanwhile, I went home a sore loser with a broken nose. I had to have surgery! And while she wasn’t exactly the direct cause of that, at the time, I couldn’t help but pin all the blame on her. After all, if she were innocent, she would have stayed to check on me. She would have acted like a friend. We were friends, or so I thought.
Funny.
“There’s nothing interesting to tell you,” I reply with a shrug. “She’s a reporter.”
“Ah, so it was a work issue that had her running you down like that? I didn’t hear what you two were talking about, but it seemed heated. I figured you two must know each other.”
I look away, narrowing my eyes as if inspecting a blip on the horizon. “In a way, we do. Our paths crossed a long time ago.”
When I look back at him, it’s just in time to see him unfurl a gotcha grin. He’s barking up the wrong tree.
I roll my eyes. “Not like that.”
He should know better. I don’t leave a trail of discarded women in my wake. I’ve always been serious about relationships, in it for the long haul. Just ask Vivienne.
“She’s beautiful.”
I hum as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to me.
It had, obviously. It felt like a gut punch to see her again, but for some reason, I find myself wanting to play this situation close to my chest. I have no idea why. Tyson wouldn’t care if I found Casey attractive; in fact, he’d be relieved to hear it.
I guess I still feel a certain loyalty to Vivienne even though she and I are no longer in a relationship, as of a month ago.
Tyson would tell me it’s time to move on.
He has told me that, plenty.
I’m just not quite there yet.
I’m still certain that this thing with Vivienne will resolve itself. She’s the type of woman I need by my side. I understand she doesn’t quite see that, and for now, I’m fine with tabling the issue. I have enough on my plate. My sole focus is on making sure the maiden voyage of Aurelia is a success. I want the best media coverage possible.