Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“You’re okay.” I laughed softly.
“What the fuck? Just okay?” he hissed.
“Yeah, just okay.” I smiled and hung up.
“Oh, my God! Mrs. Evans, you’re going on your honeymoon! Are you not excited?” Ana squealed, surprising me. “Mr. Evans is really very nice.”
“He’s more than nice. He’s perfect,” I murmured, thumbing the tickets as I looked down at them.
“What did you say, Mrs. Evans?”
“Nothing, I said nothing.”
****
“Come on, Addie!” Daimon cried out from outside the car. I sat still as Ted held the door open. I was nervous, more like scared. I’d never gone anywhere outside of the country and Daimon was taking me on his private jet to French Polynesia, clear across the other side of the world. Once I found out we were going, I couldn’t help but do as much research as I could. I could never say it was a dream, because I’d never dreamed that big, ever. Not since I was a teenager.
“Addie, get your ass on the fucking plane,” he shouted again from the airplane stairs. It was past ten o’clock at night and the lights of the tarmac kept flashing. The plane’s lights were on as everyone waited patiently for me.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Evans?” Ted asked, looking down at me.
“Yes,” I murmured nervously, finally exiting the car. Daimon came down the air stairs and met me outside the car.
“First, you don’t have a passport,” he said, taking my hand into his, leading me toward his jet. “Then, you freak out that I'm taking you out of the country, and now what? Are you seriously trying to tell me you’re scared of the plane?” He pulled me up the stairs to a waiting man wearing a grey steward suit.
“Hello, Mrs. Evans. I’m Mitch, your flight attendant. I’ll be seeing to your comfort until we get to our final destination.” He half-smiled. Why did I suddenly get the impression this man didn’t like me? Mitch stood tall with his dirty blond hair styled back. His face was clean, smooth and his eyes were a light grey.
“Thank you,” I nodded as Daimon jerked me inside the plane.
“Sit here.” Daimon pointed at a seat in the front of the plane. The private jet was much larger than I thought. The interior was all black and clean cut, exactly to Daimon’s taste. “Push the button on the side if you want to lie down after we take off.” Daimon sat next to me and swirled his chair to see me.
“It’s pretty big for a private jet.” I smiled as I looked around nervously, fidgeting in my seat.
“It’s a medium-size jet, good for long travels,” he said with a shrug. Dark wood accents and highly polished black metal were everywhere. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I think it’s…you.” The amount of sheer lavishness was exactly Daimon.
“If you would please buckle your safety belt,” Mitch said as he walked toward us. “The plane will be taking off shortly.”
“T-taking o-off?” I stuttered.
“For God’s sake, Addie, it’s going to be fine,” Daimon said, trying to calm me.
“Daimon, I’m…just really…” I panted, trying to breathe.
“Nervous?” he finished, shaking his head. “It’s nothing, Addie.”
“To you. This is the first time I’ve flown anywhere,” I bit my lower lip as my leg shook.
“Mitch!” Daimon called out.
“Yes, Mr. Evans,” Mitch sang as he smiled at him brightly.
“My Addie needs a drink. Get her a whisky neat and double it,” he instructed, looking at me. Mitch pulled back the curtains from the front of the plane and came to us with two lowball glasses on a silver tray.
“Here you are, Mr. Evans.” He handed Daimon his drink. “A whisky double with lots of ice,” he said happily.
I watched Mitch carefully. So he knew how Daimon liked his drink. He ought to since he worked for him, I thought to myself, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling of unease around him.
“Here you are,” he said, with a very different demeanor as he handed me my glass.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. I took a large sip, loving the sweet and caramel flavor of my drink.
“It’s the same one I had at the speakeasy you took me to.” I looked at Daimon surprised.
“You said you liked it,” Daimon said as he turned his chair and put his drink down. I smiled to myself, happy he remembered.
“Thank God, for alcohol.” I sighed and let my head fall back onto the leather chair.
Take off was an experience. Being pulled back into one’s chair and then experiencing a moment of weightlessness was different.
“Why are you smiling to yourself again?” Daimon asked, once the plane leveled off.
“I was thinking that on this trip, I’d be experiencing a lot of things I never have before.”
Daimon smiled wickedly as he watched me intently. “I should surprise you more often. Especially if it’s going to get me the kind of reaction you gave me last night,” Daimon said alluringly as we sat across each other. I rolled my eyes at him, trying to hide my embarrassment as I remembered how I ‘serviced him’ the moment he stepped into the penthouse.