Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“She died five years ago of an aneurysm, right? I believe Dash told me that, at some point.”
“She was only forty-nine, with so much left to do in this world.”
“The founder of the Alice Shopping Network, Alice herself. I have no doubt she did. If I remember correctly, from your job interview, you said she’d gone public and gotten out of the company?”
“Yes, she didn’t like what the company looked like after the offering, but she was plotting new ways to take over the world.” I tilt my head and look at him. “You didn’t want to hire me because I came from money.”
“I never said that.”
I laugh. “You said it directly, Tyler Hawk.” I deepen my voice. “‘I’m going to be frank, Ms. Bailey, I don’t hire people who aren’t hungry. I assume you inherited a lot of money from your mother. Your father is also a rich man. It’s hard to believe you could ever be what I consider hungry.’”
“Ah, that’s right. To which you asked, ‘Weren’t you born into money and in the shadow of your successful parents? Don’t you want to prove you can win because you’re you?’”
“And with that, you sold me. And now, you have your success.”
“I won’t feel like it if this deal falls apart.”
“Nothing to worry about, Bella. Per Allie, we’re the dream team, remember?”
There is something in his voice, in the air between us, when he says those words. I tell myself it’s all about sex. I’m in lust with him. He’s in lust with me. But I’ve known him for years and there is a bond between us that already existed.
The plane starts to taxi at rapid speed, and I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling as if I’m about to crash and burn, and not on this plane, but with Tyler.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Bella
The plane levels off and I glance over at Tyler, all comfy in his seat and sipping his drink while I’m on a proverbial ledge, about to crash.
“I guess flying doesn’t bother you?”
“So much so that I got a pilot’s license a few years back. Up here in the sky is the one place the rest of the world can’t touch you. It’s like a timeout from the chaos.”
I’m not surprised he has a pilot’s license. It seems like something the ultimate alpha control freak would want in his arsenal, along with a wall that is ten feet high. We hit a bump and I’m clearly on edge because I gasp. “It doesn’t feel like a timeout."
His eyes brim with amusement. “It’s just a little choppy air. It’ll pass.”
“Says the man who’s a control freak. How do you not want to go check on the pilot?”
“I’m a control freak about what I can control. We’re up here now. Whatever is going to happen, is going to happen. Believe it or not, flying helped me understand that there are things in life we can’t change.”
“Like my mother dying?” I say, slightly triggered by this topic, having far too many people in my life lecture me about my mother’s death being unavoidable. And I can easily assume his trigger as well. “Or who your father is?” It’s out before I can stop it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but I’ve—well, just thought of you and the struggle this must be often since he died and—”
His lips press together. “Stop trying to save me, Bella. He’s gone. The end.”
“Is it the end?”
He looks at me, seconds ticking by, and I can almost feel that ten-foot wall slam between us before he says, “I was talking about something more like a flock of birds flying into the engine. I can train and prepare myself for how I respond.”
“Can we not talk about flocks of birds in engines right now?” I pick up my drink and down it before I say, “What does happen if a flock of birds hit the engine on a plane this size?”
“We emergency land. Did you see that movie with Tom Hanks? Sully? It was the true story of the pilot who landed a commercial flight in the Hudson River in New York City.”
My hand goes to my neck. “Please tell me it wasn’t a flock of birds?”
“It was a flock of birds that took out not one, but both engines.”
I hold up a hand. “Okay, that’s all I need to hear while we’re in the air, thank you.”
The flight attendant appears and takes our dinner orders. When she leaves, I’ve ordered pasta and Tyler is having fish. It’s better than chicken, which is always dry and tasteless. We eat and share another drink, and end up talking through all the details of Dash’s contracts, both in publishing and film. When the tables are cleared, I say, “Should we talk about the meetings tomorrow?”
“Good cop, bad cop works. We strike a deal with studio B, and make it solid. We go to studio A and I tell them to go fuck themselves, unless they meet our terms. You try to save it, tell them you’re trying to get me to just go back to Nashville, but there is a lot on the line. You really want to save it, but you need a little give on their part to keep me from convincing Dash that studio B is the best choice.”