Jessie Page 8

  “What?” I hover. Should I pass down the stairs again? They’re obviously here for me, but if I don’t get on this plane right at this moment, who knows what will happen. If I do board, I’ll never know what my future could have held - I know what’s worst.

  Curiosity gets the better of me and I clank down the steps two at a time and jog over to the fence. “Two minutes,” I shout over my shoulder to my crew, holding up my index and middle finger to them in case they can't hear over the cacophony of jets whirring.

  If I miss my departure slot, we’ll be given another. It’s not like I really have a work emergency to return for, anyway.

  Jessie

  I’m sweating. My heart is thundering. And I need to use the bathroom. Obviously, I don’t let on, but my stomach is churning as Zac bounces over.

  Kyle is shouting, “Hurry up! We don’t have all day.”

  “OK, OK. I’m coming. I do have a private jet waiting on the tarmac for me you know. I’m not about to hang around any longer than I need to.” He sounds grumpy, but at least he's running.

  And then it hits me. Private jet?

  I focus on the airplane Zac was just about to board. There’s no signage, only eight windows and two propellers. This does look decidedly like the private jets that El and the other top drivers float around the skies in.

  But Zac?

  “Did you send your jet for him?” I ask Elliott.

  “Huh?” He scrunches his brow.

  “Did you send your jet to collect Zac, Elliott?”

  “No, that’s his.” He’s screwing up his face like I’m speaking in French or something.

  “That’s his plane on the tarmac over there?”

  “Yes, Jessie. Have you two spoken at all these past few days?”

  I look at him out of the corner of my eye. Zac is getting closer and I don’t want him to hear us talking about him.

  “Have you told Jessie what you do?” Elliott shouts at Zac.

  “Yes, but I don’t think she believed me.” He raises his eyebrows as he takes his last few steps.

  Elliott and Kyle both stand and turn to me. “You didn’t believe him, why ever not?” Kyle asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess him flying out on a budget airline wouldn't make me assume he was private jet material.”

  The boys laugh. All three of them, as Zac has now arrived at the other side of the fence, erupt into loud, brash, and humiliating laughter.

  When it finally subsides, Elliott and Kyle make their excuses. “We’ll leave you to it.” Kyle points to the car.

  When they close their doors, I eye Zac. “Look, I’m sorry. I pushed the panic button. You’re not like the rest. I’m just scared of what will happen if I let my guard down.”

  “Have you been hurt in the past?” he asks.

  “Haven’t we all?” I smile.

  He shakes his head. “See!”

  “Huh?”

  “You can’t let your guard down, even now. It’s an impossibility for you.” He turns to leave.

  “Give me a chance. I just took an hour’s drive to catch you before you took off for a different country such is your overwhelming ability to open up and discuss our communication issues.” I'm shouting at him now.

  I tap my foot. It’s actually my leg which is shaking, but it comes over as impatience.

  “Jessie, I’m busy. I really do have my own, very profitable business to run and I can’t put everything on standby because you’ve had a change of heart. I’m heading off. See how you feel at the end of the vacation and if you’re still interested in discussing our differences as you so eloquently put it, then give me a call and we’ll see about meeting up for a chat.”

  This had not entered my list of potential outcomes. Sure, I’d considered that we may not catch him in time, but not that if we ended up face to face, he would turn his back on me and continue his merry way back to UK, alone.

  Jessie

  I stand and watch like a dumb mute as he leaves me. He turns on his heel and walks back to his private jet. I don’t speak. I don’t move. I just clutch at the chain fence. My eyes well up and I have an overwhelming sense that my fight or flight fucked this up big time.

  Elliott and Kyle did not miss a chance to tell me how much of a good guy he is on our journey down and I’m just standing here, feckless, letting him walk away from me. I’m not good enough for him by all accounts.

  I watch as he jogs up the steps and enters the cabin. I hold my breath on the off chance that he’ll have a change of heart and turn. I know in my soul that he won’t, but I hold my breath just in case. And then, I wait a little longer until they seal the airplane.

  It’s only now that I understand that he was serious. He isn’t hot headed like me. He thinks before he speaks and stands by his words.

  My eyes are full with hurt and shame when I slide into the back seat of Elliott and Kyle’s hired car. No one speaks. There’s nothing to say.

  They saw the whole episode play out, and while they may not have heard what we discussed, his solo return to his jet was confirmation enough of what those words meant.

  “To the house, then?” Kyle says, maneuvering the car around until it faces in the opposite direction.

  “I guess so.” My voice shakes, but I cling onto my tears, protecting my pride.

  “I think not. Drop us at the door; we are going for some drinks.” That’s Elliott. His words are meaningful because he doesn’t drink much as he’s always in training. Sure, this is his wedding trip, but alcoholic beverages are not the number one thing on his hit list when times get tough.

  He’s more likely to go for a run.

  I feel even more shame as I realize he can no longer do that. And that people have it a lot worse than I do and complain a lot less.

  “Ugh. I’m so mad with myself, I could scream.” I don’t notice I’ve spoken the words, until Elliott replies.

  “I think that’s what caused this mess, Jess. We need to get this sorted. Come on Kyle, drop me at the door.”

  All three of us end up at the fake Irish bar which sits on the concourse by the check in and security gates. It’s not the best view we’ve had, and I’m sure we could have chosen somewhere way more beautiful. But its locality and a fully stocked bar is sufficient for us to adequately drown our sorrows.

  Zac

  I thank my lucky stars for the informality of this tiny airport. There’s one way in and the same route out; it just happens to be on the opposite side of the corridor, with nothing more stable than a security line for separation.

  I’m not sure I’ve made the right decision. It’s gone against my every survival instinct, but she made the effort to come and find me. To apologize. I can’t race off without hearing her out.

  I can always fly out later. But, I can’t go back and recapture this moment.

  I’m not expecting to see them ensconced in the Irish bar when I walk past, already with the best part of a bottle of wine sunk.

  But that’s where they are. Chatting and laughing. But, it’s the type of laughter which holds no joy.

  All three of them are like that and not for the first time it occurs to me how much two of my dearest friends wants me to make a life with another individual who they hold in their hearts.

  She really can’t be all that bad.

  She’s not all that bad, but whether we truly just have only our wires crossed remains to be seen.

  Throwing any remaining sense of caution to the wind, I enter the bar and stand in the doorway. Out of the blue, my legs freeze. I’m not sure what I’d planned, but I’m assuming walking up and joining my friends at their table would be the next move.

  But, for some reason, I doubt my decision.

  What if I’ve pissed Elliott and Kyle off and they don’t want me?

  What if Jessie has had another change of heart?

  What if I hear them talking shit about me?

  Really, I don’t suppose it matters if any of that is true, other than Jessie, as I d
id just make rather a dick move, so their anger and frustration could be justified. But, what if I rejected her final flourish and she’s done?

  They turn and see me and my doubts are availed without further ado. My legs instantly work again and four faces grin in all directions.

  “You came!” Jessie stands first and runs over, tripping over a chair.

  Instinctively I catch her and we end up in each other’s arms. The moment could not have been more genuine and awkward wrapped into one. The feel of her warmth, the smell of her apricot hair and the touch of her soft skin against mine fills the gaping void consuming my heart.

  But, in the millisecond it takes us to realize what has happened, we also then accept this is not the natural order of things anymore and before we jump ahead to this stage, we need to have a serious discussion.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She laughs, brushing away that gorgeous hair from her face. I take comfort in her flaming cheeks.

  Jessie

  “I thought you may change your mind.” Elliott slaps Zac on the back.

  So, that was his game all along. He knows both of us better than we probably know ourselves. Zac shakes his head. “You’re trouble, do you know that? You never give up on what you want even if it doesn’t concern you.”

  We all laugh. It’s a little loud and quite shrill from the lingering tension. Zac is right. Elliott is not a quitter, that’s for sure.

  “Well, now we’ve got you two in the same room without a wire fence between you, may we please trust you to get on with this drunken afternoon alone; without further fighting?”

  I nod. “Sure.” But, I look at Zac for reassurance as I speak.

  “You can.”

  “Good. Just don’t leave her behind again. That’s my only stipulation for giving you two the privacy you need.” His words are loaded and in that moment, my heart swells with love for my friend.

  Five minutes later, we’re alone and the tension is back. It’s a juncture and someone needs to break the silence, but we’re not sure who goes first, or how to best formulate the sentence so it best conveys what is on our mind.

  “Look, I’ll start. I’m sorry. I overreacted and I shouldn’t have. I was concerned about all manner of things and you're not responsible for what other people have or have not done in the past.”

  “Likewise. I’m not trying to own you, Jessie. I just want us to be close and if we’re to work, a load of jealous guys on the scene won't help anything. Particularly when they spend more time with you than I will. You said yourself that you live together.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. But, there’s nothing going on between us. They’re just around, we’re not in a relationship.”

  When Elliott and I hooked up, it was for convenience. It's never been an issue. I moved over easily when Kyle came on board, so he wasn't bothered by having me around.

  But I get the sense, that if I tell Zac about our past arrangement, it may well fuel his fire with the power that plane should have powered off the runway with.

  My alternative is to keep my mouth shut and hope he never hears of it, because if I miss this opportunity to confess all, then whenever it comes up again it'll be blatantly clear that I lied by omission, here, today. At the point when we’re supposed to be getting our cards on the table.

  I gulp my wine. It’s surprisingly good, rich and full bodied. Not like the trash you buy in England from these plastic theme pubs. It gives me vital seconds to consider my options.

  I have a third option. I can wait.

  Wait until he’s had a few more drinks under his belt. The only potential issues with that course of action is that I don’t know how badly drink affects him yet. Our time has been torrid enough that I can’t tell if his moods have been fueled by alcohol, or if it calms his natural reaction.

  And, the second issue, is that I will also have had more to drink by then, and I’m not sure how good my capacity to deal with his outrage will be at that point.

  No, this needs to be done now.

  I start as though picking up from my last sentence. “I’ve not been with anyone regularly since Elliott and I hooked up, and you can see there was nothing romantic in that. It was just a practical arrangement.” I cringe, waiting for the back lash.

  It doesn’t come.

  Nothing comes.

  He sips his drink.

  Zac

  Oh, my. Will it ever end? I’m trying to be cool here. To understand that people have lives and then they move on.

  Rationally, I can see it would be unlikely that Elliott would make such an effort to hook me up with someone who he still has a thing for. But, at the same time, the very actions she’s been denying are there laid bare on the table.

  My concerns about the guys having a soft spot for her, or a hard spot, or whatever the hell it is, are correct.

  She just doesn’t see it like that.

  I grit my teeth, draw air in and for want of anything more productive to do, pick up my glass and suck the alcohol though my enamel layer, until the acid burns the back of my throat.

  “Say something.” Her voice is soft.

  I shake my head. There is nothing to say at this moment. I need to process the information. The woman who I am starting to fall in love with is a bike.

  Brilliant.

  And my friends who instigated me falling in love with her, have ridden said bike.

  Even better.

  I down the entire glass of wine, then raise my hand. “Can we have two shots please?”

  This is so fucked up.

  “OK, say I let this little revelation pass us by, then how do I know that when you’re away on the road for a month at a time that when ‘needs must’ you won’t just jump into bed with Ryan, or anyone else for that matter, purely from a practical perspective?”

  “You don’t. But then, you’re not exactly mister celibate yourself. How do I know you’re not doing the same at home? Just because you’re not on the road, it doesn’t mean you don’t have sex on tap. It’s easy enough to buy it, and let’s face it. Now that I know about just how rich you are, you don’t even have to do that. Plenty of women will fall at the feet of the financially powerful.”

  ‘Just not you,’ I think.

  “Come on Zac, this is all part of being in a relationship versus being single. Life changes. I’m assuming we are talking about whether we want to be in a relationship?” She suddenly checks.

  And this is it. The crux of the problem, spoken out loud. With nowhere to hide, I consider my reply before I drop myself in the middle of something it’s going to be difficult to extricate myself from without another whole batch of problematic side effects.

  Dialing into my head and my heart and double checking where they stand, I pause. “Yes, this is what we are talking about. I would very much like to be in a relationship with you, but my brain tells me that my single lifestyle is more suited to my life goals and so we do have a lot to discuss.”

  “This isn’t a business arrangement, Zac! I’m not one of your precious stones that you choose whether you’ll invest in. You go with your heart and your head has to follow suit.”

  “But does it?” I ask before my mind catches up.

  Her mouth forms a ring, and she pants through it, slapping the table with the palm of her hand. “Are you kidding me? We’re here, after you making the grand gesture of canceling your exit, and you’re still not sure if you want us?”

  Oh we are going around in circles, and this time it’s my fault. I do not see a way through this quagmire of emotions. “Look, I’m not good at this laying my heart on the line thing. It’s not where my experience lies. Bear with me while I find my footing, OK?”

  Jessie

  I didn’t have the time to find out what he means by life goals before I erupted about him actually not being that clear on whether he even wants to be in a relationship with me. I make a mental note though. Now would be a bloody good time to understand what his life goals are. Including kids.

  “Look, let�
�s take a step back and have a drink together. I’m here now. I’ve canceled my plane, so we have time again.”

  I lean back in my seat. Much as it’s not the answer, it is more appealing that arguing with him. Maybe this way we’ll be able to work out whether each of us wants to be in a relationship rather than making a contractual agreement.

  The heat dies down and we start to enjoy being in each other’s company again. We entertain each other and before we know it, the time is 10 pm.

  “We should be heading back,” he says.

  “I’m assuming that means you’re coming with me then?” I’m not really questioning it. The electricity is sparking again and as I ask this our eyes lock and without any kind of effort, our heads merge and our lips touch.

  My head swims. Sure, I’ve had too much wine, but this elation is from touching this man in a way no other ever will if we can get our acts together. I close my eyes and smell him. The bristles on his chin rub mine where he didn’t shave this morning and I love that I know that about him.

  The tenderness of his arm as it wraps around my waist melts away any anger making me whimper as it floats off. His hand moves down to rest on mine, our fingers intertwining as he releases my lips and tugs on my hand.

  “Come on.”

  When we exit the bar, he turns left instead of right. “Where are you going?” I’m about to say, ‘it’s this way,’ but the look on his face silences me. “Oh? But I don’t have anything with me?”

  He smirks and when we arrive at security, I understand why. “Here you go, Mr. Mirza.” The official hands a passport over to Zac and we make our way through to the other side.

  OK, so now I’m reeling, as if I wasn’t before.

  The guy just handed my passport to Zac, so how did that happen? But, I’m unable to ask this because my brain is busy processing the other piece of information that I was given at the same time. Mr. Mirza he said. We managed to make it through all this time together without me knowing his full name. Mirza makes him, Zacharias Mirza, the billionaire diamond trader who recently made the largest sale that the oldest auction house in London, has ever known.