Page 31 of Lie with Me
“You’re welcome.” I kiss her ardently. “Thank you for clearing your schedule for me.” I need to joke in order to deal with this.
“Anytime.” She giggles sweetly between kisses. I wish I could bottle that sound and listen to it in the middle of my loneliest night.
I have to do this.
I release Tara reluctantly and press one last kiss to her forehead. The hum of the idle engine behind me persistently reminding me I have to go.
“See you around.” She looks up at me and smiles weakly. I return the expression. I mentioned to her once that I didn’t do the good-bye thing, I always just say see you around. It’s the lastthing I said to her before she walked into the airport in Hawaii.
“See you around,” I reply, attempting to sound cheery, but failing miserably. I leave Tara standing next to the car and board the plane. The captain is waiting by the cockpit door as I enter.
“Evening, sir.”
I roll my eyes. “Sid, you don’t have to be so formal. It’s just me.”
“I know.” He chuckles. “Just wanted you to feel important for a quarter of a second before I told you to sit the fuck down and buckle up.”
Now, there is the pilot I know and love.
“Much better.” I sigh.
I flop into the plush leather seat and gaze out the window at Tara. She’s still standing outside the car, staring up at the plane. My heart hurts just looking at her. I try to focus on anything else, but it seems the further away I am from her, the more magnified her presence is. I glance at her one last time as she climbs into the limo and shuts the door. The moment she disappears, it feels like my world flies out of control. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I pull out my phone and deliberate for a split second before I type away.
Me: Tell me a secret . . .
Moments tick by, too many for my liking before she responds.
Tara: I wish you would stay.
Those five words are all it takes to seal my fate and solidify my decision. I’m not ready to leave, yet. I’m not ready to leaveTarayet.
I shoot up from my seat and bang on the cockpit door. No, not protocol at all; we have a two-way intercom if we need to communicate, but who is thinking about things like that at a time like this?
“Sid! Cut the engine!” I pound on the door.
Several seconds later, an irritated Sid appears in front of me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, son? I was about to taxi out!” he snaps at me. I love Sid. He’s no-nonsense and tells you exactly how it is whether you want to hear it or not.
“I need to get off the plane. Open the door.”
“Did you hit your head or something? We have a flight plan. I have a family to get back to.”
No, it’s not typical for a pilot to talk back to his passenger, but this is a special circumstance since I’m the one usually flying the plane. I knew this weekend was probably going to take a toll, so I employed Sid to fly me to and from New York. There was no way I was going to want to fly thirteen hours home after spending close to thirty-six hours with Tara.
“Then go home. I can fly back commercial.”
He looks at me dumbfounded before his expression changes to understanding. A perverted understanding.
“You’re fucking pussy whipped.”
“Look who’s talking. You’re about to explode in your pants if you don’t get home to your wife.”
“Damn straight, son. Have you met my wife?”
Yes, she’s drop-dead gorgeous and half your age.
